#caught stealing x

[austinbutlerslovers]

False Intruder

Label Mature 18+

Summary Hanks been on edge ever since he brought home a cat named Bud, and now you wonder just how safe you are when you’re both startled awake in the middle of the night

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Hank protective • savior mode • kiss it better • affectionate • adoring •fingering • don’t wake the neighbors • sex against a headboard • p in v • nipple play • clit play• simultaneous orgasms • creampie• aftercare 🔗 Masterlist

✨ Inspo recent Caught Stealing pics

False Intruder

Your apartment with Hank is a shared haven, the kind that feels alive with both of your most cherished belongings, each one decorating the place with the life you’ve built together.

The bedroom is bathed in the glow of the city skyline as New York hums outside, a distant blend of car horns and the low rumble of the subway passing by… but inside, it’s just you and Hank, wrapped in your own little world.

You slip under the cool sheets after a long day, the bed settling softly beneath you. You’re wearing one of Hank’s t-shirts, the fabric soft and worn, carrying the faint scent of him, and the tart detergent of the corner laundromat.

Lying back, you watch Hank through the partially open bathroom door, his movements slow and methodical as he pulls his black boxers on, sliding them up his thighs in a way that has you mesmerized, the waistband snapping against his hips.

He brings a dark gray tee over his head, the fabric stretching over his broad chest, and you catch a glimpse of the faint scars across his torso…remnants of trauma he never speaks about.

Hank’s been off lately, you can see it in the way he’s lost in thought after he clicks off the bathroom light, the usual easy charm of him undercut by a jittery edge.

Ever since he took in that scrappy cat Bud to watch for a neighbor, he’s been paranoid, glancing over his shoulder, triple-checking the door locks. 

You don’t know if it’s the cat or something else, Hank’s not the type to spill his guts unless you pry, and even then, it’s like pulling teeth.

Bud climbs on the bed beside you his green eyes glinting in the dim light as Hank comes to sit on the edge. The cat proudly settles onto his lap, and Hank’s broad shoulders hunch as he scratches behind Bud’s ears, his calloused fingers gently moving in a way that makes you yearn for them.

“Love you, you little bastard,” he coddles, his voice low and warm as Bud purrs, a deep rumble that makes Hank’s lips quirk into a rare soft smile. “Yeah, yeah, you know it.”

You slide closer, resting your cheek against the pillow, watching them. “You gonna spoil that cat all night?” you jab, your voice playful and sleepy.

Hank glances at you, his blue eyes catching the city’s glow. “She’s getting jealous,” He whispers leaning down to press a kiss on Bud’s forehead and you can’t help but smile.

For a guy who’s built like he could break someone in half, Hank’s got a heart that sneaks up on you.

Bud stretches lazily and hops out of Hanks lap with a soft thud, padding across the hardwood floor with his tail flicking. 

He curls up onto Hank’s worn green duffle bag in the corner and you let out a sigh of relief. That cat’s been a third wheel non stop, wedging between you and Hank like he owns the place.

Hank slides into bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight as he brings his bicep under your head. He’s warm, and solid, his body a furnace as he pulls you against him, pressing your back to his chest. 

His other arm snakes around your waist, heavy and possessive as you feel the steady beat of his heart against your spine. 

He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in and a low hum rises from his throat. “You smell so good,” he whispers, his lips brushing the sensitive spot behind your ear, grazing it in a way that makes you melt into him.

“Better than Bud?” you quip, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. 

“Close call,” he says, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs, earning a playful grunt. He leans in closer pressing his lips to your neck kissing the curve soft and slow. “Mmm. Definitely you,” he confirms and, you smile as you give in to him, the city’s hum fading as you close your eyes.

His warmth, his scent, and the weight of his arm are enough to pull you under, and your breathing slows as you drift off to sleep together.

Hours later, a loud crash rips through the apartment, sharp and jarring. It barely registers, your mind sluggish, still tangled in sleep, until you feel Hank sit up his hand pressing your chest protectively.

“Stay here,“ he whispers, and you nod, your pulse hammering sensing the danger as he slides out of bed.

Hanks broad frame is tense as he heads to the corner near the bedroom door. His hand lowers down, fingers curling around the handle of his old baseball bat, the one he keeps propped against the wall  ‘just in case.’

The wood is worn and smooth from years of use…some of it not so innocent, and he grips it tight, his knuckles whitening. With his other hand, he pushes open the door and you sit up in bed watching him step out into the darkness feeling the fear rising in your chest.

The apartment is deathly still, the kind of quiet that amplifies every creak, every distant siren and you clutch the sheets, your mind racing. 

Was it a break-in? Is someone after him? You’ve seen the way he flinches at loud noises, the way his eyes dart to the door sometimes, like he’s expecting trouble. 

You strain to hear anything, your ears ringing with the effort, but there’s nothing. 

The weight of silence is suffocating making your heart pound harder until, a soft click—the living room light flicks on, a sliver of yellow spilling under the bedroom door. It clicks off just as quickly, and your breath catches as footsteps approach. 

Hank steps back into the bedroom, his silhouette filling the doorway. The bat is loose in his hand, no longer poised to swing, and his shoulders are relaxed having lost their tension.

“Bud,” he says, his voice rough and tinged with exasperation. “Knocked over that damn lamp in the living room. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding through you so fast it leaves you dizzy. “Hank,” you whisper, pressing a hand to your chest. “Hank, I thought…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, setting the bat back in the corner, the wood clunking softly against the wall.

He turns, his eyes catching yours, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “You were worried about me,” he teases.

“Yes, always,” you admit, your voice still trembling from the remnants of fear. “Don’t act all smug about it.”

He grins, slow and warm, climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

“You don’t gotta worry about me,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, the air between you shifting into a different kind of energy…the kind that comes from facing danger and coming out unscathed.

Your heart is still racing with adrenaline and the way his eyes darken, you know his is too.

He pulls the blankets back, reaching for your thighs, his hands rough as he drags you down to him. He brings your legs around his waist, his blonde hair falling loose from behind his ears, his blue eyes warm and affectionate as his full lips curve into a soft smile looking down at you.

“You mean so much to me,” he confesses, his voice heavy with desire, his gaze locking onto yours like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded in this world.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he says, his hands gliding down your sides to your thighs, giving them a firm possessive squeeze that makes you ache for him, feeling the heat blooming deep in your core.

His hand slips beneath the hem of his t-shirt you’re wearing, and you sigh as his fingers slide into your panties, circling your clit, testing and teasing until you feel the hard press of his cock against your thigh, straining in his boxers.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he whispers, his voice low and reverent as he slips his fingers inside you.

You gasp as they move slick and sure, stretching you with slow, deliberate thrusts, your hands clutching his forearms, fingers digging in as the pleasure begins to take over.

His piercing blue eyes stay locked on yours, his blonde hair falling messily across his face framing his handsome features as he watches you fall apart beneath him.

“Hank… yes,” you moan, your voice trailing off as he curls his fingers just right, hitting that perfect spot with devastating precision, thrusting harder as your moans rise, raw and desperate.

Your hips rock against his hand, chasing the rhythm he creates, fast and overwhelming, your breaths hitching with every slick, unrelenting stroke.

His focus is entirely on you, jaw clenched with determination, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels your walls start to flutter around his fingers, knowing you’re close.

“Come for me,” he pants, seeing you lost in pleasure and you moan, your voice breaking off as you climax.

He presses his thumb firmly against your clit, circling with unyielding pressure, and the sensation sends a jolt of heat surging through your core, pushing you toward release with dizzying speed.

You come hard, your walls clenching tight around his fingers as he coaxes you through it, his thrusts faster, feeling the slickness between your thighs.

“So fucking good for me,” he breathes, his voice full of awe as he finally slips his fingers away.

You shiver, but he’s already moving, guiding you up and turning you around.

“Hold the headboard,” he says, and you obey, your fingers curling around the cold metal as he kneels behind you, his hands sliding down your body, squeezing possessively. 

“So fucking pretty like this,” he praises, his voice rough with want as pulls your panties down, the fabric skimming your thighs.

He lowers his boxers, and you feel the warm, blunt head of his cock glide along your slick folds, the sensation making you clench inside, your back arching to angle yourself better for him.

He lines himself up, his large hands gripping your hips, and he pushes in, slow and deep, filling you with a stretch that makes your clit throb as your walls squeeze tightly around his thick cock.

“Hank, fuck,” you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as his thighs press hard against the backs of yours and his cock settles deep inside.

He pulls you against him, his chest warm against your back. “So perfect on me” he whispers, his lips finding your neck, kissing soft and slow, his mouth moving desperately, as if chasing away the fear still lingering inside of you.

He moves with purpose, holding you tight to him as he thrusts, paced and measured, his cock hitting so deep it steals your breath, and he groans in your ear, heightening your pleasure with every push of his hips.

“Feels so good,” he pants, and you moan your voice wrecked as he slides one hand to your breast, squeezing firmly as his fingers tease your nipple. His other hand moves to your jaw turning you to kiss him, his lips pressing harder against yours between every well timed thrust.

The city’s glow paints the room in shades of midnight blues and purples, casting shadows over his tight muscles flexing as he drives into you, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lips.

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, that the neighbors might hear, that Bud’s probably watching from his duffle bag with judgmental cat eyes.

There’s only Hank and the way he fills you, the way he makes the world narrow to just this moment with him.

“Need you so much,” he rasps against your ear, his voice rough with want, nearing the edge of release.

Your hands clutch the headboard tighter, your knuckles aching, your body arching to meet his thrusts. “Need you too,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need, urging him on.

He pulls you tighter against him, thrusting faster, deeper, harder, each stroke pushing you both closer, your bodies trembling on the brink.

He starts grunting, the adrenaline burning through you both as his thighs begin smacking against the backs of yours.

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, your voice breaking in to soft, helpless whimpers that drive him on.

“Fuck, come for me,” he whispers, hushed against your ear, his fingers finding your clit again, rubbing tight circles as your orgasm surges through you, your walls clenching on his cock as your moans pour out into the dark.

He groans your name as he follows, spilling into you, hot and thick, his cock pulsing as he buries himself deep. 

You both try to catch your breath as he wraps his arms around you, keeping you close, your bodies heaving together, until your drained and sated and he slowly pulls out as you shiver from the loss.

You collapse together and he pulls your back against him, his arms wrapping around you, his chest heaving. 

The city’s hum is back, a soft reminder of the world outside, but it feels distant and unimportant as Hank’s lips brush your shoulder, his breaths shallow and warm.

“I’m worried,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s not like him to admit something like that, and the vulnerability in his tone makes your heart ache. “I just… I need to keep you safe.”

You turn in his arms, facing him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as his blue eyes search yours in the dim light, heavy with uncertainty.

“You do,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “We’re okay, Hank. Everything’s okay,” you reassure him, your words soft but firm.

He squeezes you tighter, pulling you against him like he’s trying to make himself believe your words, and as you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you can’t help but wonder what Hanks been dragged into in the city that never sleeps.

END 🧢⚾️

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff @laurenmcquilty @louisejoy86 @butlerrizz @kulturalismellektermek

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who specifically always demands his managers to reserve a spot for you at every single one of his games.

you always go to support him, with him insisting he needs you there as some sort of “lucky charm” (he won’t actually admit he thinks those superstitions are bullshit), so imagine his shock when he finds out that your seat is empty on the day of one of the most important games of the season—the game that will decide who gets to compete in the german cup.

it’s ten minutes before the game starts and despite his coach’s pep talk to the team, all kaiser can focus on is your empty seat and the absolute betrayal you’ve bestowed upon him, your supposed “best friend.”

he hasn’t realized it—nor will he admit it if he ever were to come to such an epiphany—stubborn as he is, but the reason as to why he does so well in games that you’re present at is because of the fact it gives him more motivation to win and impress you rather than just solely being dependent on the faces of despair from his opponents. a unique sort of euphoria that he gets whenever he can spot you jumping up and down in your seat with his number #10 jersey on, that your praise belongs to him and him only.

so when he steps out on to the field and sees that your seat is still collecting dust, he seethes silently to himself, gritting his teeth, pissed that he even called you his best friend to begin with. because what sort of friend doesn’t show up to one of the most important games in germany’s football?!

he’s still planning to win, of course. he’s michael kaiser—he’s famous for doing so. and he plans to use all his rage that you’ve caused to do so, just in spite of you.

because he’s michael kaiser, number ten of bastard mündchen. he doesn’t need your help. he never did.

(see, what he doesn’t know is that you’re simply home sick with a cold and that you’re still dressed in his jersey, just also with a sweater and bundles of blankets on top to stay warm, but regardless, you’re still watching and cheering him on from behind the tv screen. you’ve sent him some texts and voicemails telling him so, but none have received a reply back yet and you can only imagine what this drama queen has in store for you once he wins the match.)

[stylespresleyhearted]

CCG UNIVERSE - dad! Austin

notes: this is based on Mccall’s infamous Coffee Girl universe. Two years later I’m still obsessed. Honestly she should guess this is coming. Very Dad! Austin centered but CCG is still the bestest and I love her I just want dad! Austin and had so many ideas. LOVE YOU MCCALL 🩷❣️🦖🐠

—

liked by ashleybee, dualipa, and 1376000 more

coffee.girl If you’ve tried to contact me this past week, this is why I haven’t been able to get back to you. 🥹

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jillian.mua “If Daddy doesn’t see it, it didn’t happen.” - Luci 😂

coffee.girl no, seriously. Calls him multiple times a day it warms my heart.

austinfan her contact photo being austin w baby luci KILL ME

fan12 the bath one 😭 ‘member when austin said him and luci name all the birds and fishies together

austinbutler Hidden talent ♥️

fan13 i seen @coffee.girl at lunch with luci and luci was ‘vlogging’ for austin lmao what an icon

ashleybee she can call auntie ashley whenever she wants 😭💗

lennykravits Beautiful relationship between father and daughter ❤️ Isn’t it the best @austinbutler

entertainmenttonight You have broken the internet.

fan23 AND HE LOOKS SO HAPPY IN EVERY SINGLE CALL MY HEARTTT

austinupdates Did she make him a drawing of a heart 😭

liked by coffee.girl, oliviadejonge, and 73198 others

jillian.mua Someone didn’t answer the phone @austinbutler

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austinbutler Was on set. Calling back now.

coffee.girl LOL 😍

bazluhrmann She’s going to be a movie star!

fangirl1 lmaooo baz already working on her career

liked by fan11, coffee.girl, and 89154 others

people Join the poll at the link in our bio! Who do we think Austin Butler is talking to:

1. Luci Butler

2. @coffee.girl

3. someone else (enter a name)

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fan23 PLSSSS 😂😂😂😭 Luci won the poll 98% and the other two percent people said Callum 😂😂

fan13 lol the bromance that lives on forever

fangirl if you didn’t vote for luci have u been under a rock?

austinfan convinced if it wasn’t for luci austin would throw his phone away

fan43 austin and ccg are finally being a bit more open about luci pls don’t ruin it by being weird everyone

liked by austinbutler, ashleytisdale, and 136943 others

coffee.girl 🧜🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♂️🦄🐠🐟����🐙🦖🦕🕊️🪸🍤🩷💜💙 daddy

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jillian.mua love love love when I get me some of these

oliviadejonge Luci-code 🥀❤️‍🔥

ashleybee Sweet girl, she’s going to break his heart 🥹 love you Luc!

ashleytisdale She’s really missing him, isn’t she? Jupiter’s the same when Chris has trips.

coffee.girl Oh yeah I’m letting her sleep on his pillow and counting down the days 😢

evalongoria They get older and they understand but missing them never gets easier. My girls are the same. ❤️ Love and strength to your family.

austinbutler Hi baby ❤️🐠 Thank you. Love you both.

austinbutler Calling now

liked by jillian.mua and 93176 others

people No more tears! Our hearts are spared from any more Luci Butler missing her dad posts as Austin Butler reunites with his family in NYC today.

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fan13 honestly so happy for them poor baby luci was breaking my heart 😭😭

fan23 can’t imagine how austin felt having to be away for work he’s such a good father and husband. ♥️

fangirl HAPPY 4 UR BEAUTIFUL FAM 💗💗 @coffee.girl @austinbutler

liked by zendaya, ashleytisdale, and 1393765 others

austinbutler My girls are stylin’ ❤️

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zendaya the coolest 🔥

tchalamet i see the fit 👀

fan13 wahhhh so happy they reunited !!! 😭

catherinemartindesigns Beautiful ladies. 😍

keoghan92 OI OI lucky fella ☘️

liked by ashleybee, jillian.mua, and 67915 others

people Spotted in New York City: Austin Butler happily watches on as his wife keeps their daughter entertained while he films.

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ccgupdates me as a mom.

fan13 LMAO PLS thats so cute! Love you so much @coffee.girl

sophieturner You’re an icon babe 🔥

coffee.girl 🤣

fan23 I love that Austin looks so amused 😂😂

liked by austinbutler, ashleybee, tomhardy, and 1368923 others

hollywoodreporter Amidst filming on Darren Aronofsky’s film for new movie Caught Stealing, Austin Butler and @coffee.girl had to console their daughter who did not enjoy seeing her dad bruised and battered. More pics at the link in bio.

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butlerfam Luci sweetheart you are SO adorable ❤️❤️❤️

fan23 i love that they’re consoling her but so obviously amused 😂

fan13 need them to adopt me like yesterday ❤️ thanks

jillian.mua This little girl owns me

ccgupdates We all know Luci don’t play about her dad 🤣

fan41 LMAO IN HER LITTLE DINO SWEATER TOO OH LUCI 😭😭

ccgfan Aw how sweet lol. Hope she’s okay! @coffee.girl

coffee.girl Haha yes thank you everyone! Took some cuddles and kisses but now she’s in the make up chair getting some matching cuts and bruises 🙄😂

liked by jillian.mua, fan13, and 74187 others

dailymail Austin Butler and his wife look gorgeous as they enjoy a solo date night

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user12 I don’t care about celebrities but I wish this family love and happiness. They do their own thing.

fan13 Austin’s life completely changed when he did Elvis 🥹

ccgfan I believe in true love bc of them

liked by coffee.girl, ashleytisdale, and 45914 others

people Another film day, another cute moment on set. Luci Butler adorably waves to taxi her dad enters during shooting.

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fan23 hahaha if u watch the video austin waves back at her

fan13 thank you Darren for having an open set so we can see all these adorable Luci moments 😭

butlerfan She’s going to be a star ⭐️

catherinemartindesigns Let’s do another film so we can have Miss Luci join us on our set. ❤️

bazluhrmann She’s going to be the lead !

liked by ashleybee, ashleytisdale, and 76198 others

dailymail Austin Butler hangs with Luci while his wife, @coffee.girl, runs some errands.

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fan23 Luci crying when Austin was carrying the bag of potatoes flashback 😂

liked by fan23, fan41, and 893187 others

butlerfamupdates Austin attentively watches over Luci as she plays on set ❤️🥹

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fan23 He’s such a great dad. His mom would be so happy and proud.

zoekravitz Luci has stolen my heart 🐠🥹 I think it’s time @channingtatum

fan41 LMAO LUC MAKING HER WANT BABIES 😭😭😭

coffee.girl She loves her Aunt Zoe ❤️

lennykravitz The Butler family is the best. I’m convinced Luci knows the entire animal kingdom. Smarty pants!

fan31 Luci is the only celebrity child who has celebrity as fans. Her power unmatched.

liked by ashleybee, austinsfamily, and 1398376 others

austinbutler Fulfilled.

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ashleybee Can’t wait for you guys to come down so I can smooch her face off!! Love you guys ❤️

tomhardy Love to your family mate ❤️

florencepugh Can I come over soon please 😢

zendaya Aunty Z is gonna be in NYC in two days 👀👀

tchalamet @coffee.girl and Luci are part of the Dune family they gotta be there! ❤️‍🔥

krisjenner Family is blessing. Love you guys.

fan12 oh no stay away from them 😭

keoghan92 me and Brando on our way to see youse ☘️❤️

sabrinacarpenter Luci takes Short n’ Sweet MSG - sounds like a plan

coffee.girl haha she’s OBSESSED 🤩

dualipa Love from Aunt Dua and Uncle Cal! See you guys soon! 💗

butlerupdates It says so much that the Butler family garners so much love from the public and celebrities. It speaks of their humbleness, beauty, kindness, and love.

coffee.girl AUSTIN THIS ISN’T THE PHOTO WE AGREED ON!!! AGAIN!!!

—

um hi @blainesebastian blame my ovaries we talked about this

[movingmusically]

Masterlist

Caught Feeling

(A Hank Thompson x Reader Fic)

Tired of her quiet, predictable life, a woman takes a spontaneous detour into a gritty bar. What begins as a distraction becomes a night of rediscovery, as an encounter with a captivating bartender brings her face-to-face with her own fears—and desires.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Epilogue

Tricks, Treats, and Temptations - Halloween One Shot 🎃

Pages and Promises - One Shot

The Edge of Desire - One Shot

Wild Card - One Shot

A Table for Two - One Shot

Close Shave - One Shot

Sapphire and Steel - One Shot

Night Terrors - One Shot

A Stroke of Intimacy - One Shot

Austin Butler

Series:

What Are Friends For?

Callum Turner thinks he’s a genius matchmaker. Angie, his best friend, thinks he’s meddling. Austin? He’s just curious. But as sparks fly, one question lingers—is this just a fleeting moment, or something worth holding on to?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 -

Requests/One Shots:

Operation: Love

Back to Graceland

Feyd’s Darling

What Comes After

Let the World Wait

The Little Things

The Way Back

Headliner

Unscripted - Part 1 - Part 2

Best Laid Plans

No Doubt, It’s Funny

All of Us

#DDoAB - Love Bug

Rumour Has It

The Space Between Us

Good Girl

What If?

Paper Roses

The Happiest Place on Earth

Exit Through the Side Door

The Truth of It

Let Him Follow

Gifted

With You

Benny Cross

Requests/One Shots:

Keys & Chrome

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Harvest

@wolfstarmicrofic October 1, word count 407

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Remus drawled from the bench where he was reclining with a book covering his face. He had a headache and the smell of the Bubotubers wasn’t helping. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sirius assured him. “Hey, you’re meant to be the lookout, how are you meant to see anyone coming if you can’t see them?” 

“Werewolf, remember? I can hear and smell them long before I can see them. Being able to see is not a problem,” Remus answered. He swore sometimes Sirius did actually forget what he was. He heard Sirius huff and the squelching of a Bubotuber being squeezed as Sirius continued to harvest the sap from the slug-like plants.

A few minutes went by in silence, but then he heard footsteps coming towards the greenhouse. “Pads, quick!” He hissed, sitting up and grabbing James’s invisibility cloak and flung it over them. “Just keep that jar away from me,” He whispered into Sirius’s ear. He felt Sirius nod and his heart thud loudly. 

He moved them back into the corner of the greenhouse as a pair of fifth years Hufflepuff's walked in. 

“Eww, the second years must have been harvesting the Bubotubers before lunch, it stinks in here,” The boy said, holding his nose closed. 

“Let’s come back tomorrow,” The girl said. “It’s not that important that we study the Lady’s Mantle today. We can go to the library and get most of the facts there and come back when it doesn’t smell so bad,” The Hufflepuff's fled the harsh smell of the Bubotuber Puss. 

Sirius’s heart was racing in his chest. Remus didn’t need his sensitive hearing to know that as he was pressed up against Sirius’s back and could feel it. The odd thing was that it didn’t slow when they were alone again. Remus leant forward, his chest fully pressing into Sirius’s back as he whispered into his ear. 

“We should go back to the tower and put that some place safe,” Sirius heart rate sped up until it was almost at hummingbird levels. “You alright, Padfoot?” Remus asked, worried about his friend.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s get out of here,” Sirius pulled the cloak from over him and walked out of the greenhouse, leaving Remus wondering what he’d done to upset Sirius. He sighed, his headache beginning to pound again. He decided to make a detour to the hospital wing for a pain potion. He’d worry about Sirius later. 

[hotwings-incorrect-quotes]

*late evening, police station, lov got caught bc they stole shopping cart to ride it, all of them are booked and it’s dabi’s turn*

police officer: name?

dabi: dabi.

police officer: surname?

dabi: just dabi, think of it like about “beyoncé”

police officer: *already doubting their life choices* occupation?

dabi: token emo villain

police officer: any addictions?

dabi: all of them

police officer: *sighs* any family?

dabi: no, thank you

police officer: i see, who should we call in case of an emergency?

dabi: i have a post pigeon, you can call him i guess

bonus

*it’s like 4 in the morning and hawks’ phone is ringing*

hawks: *sleepy, picks up the phone* hello?

police officer: good morning sir, we got this number to call it in case of an emergency. i believe we have your boyfriend to pick up from the police station.

hawks: *growls* i’ll kill him... what did he do? arson?

police officer: no... he stole a shopping cart with his friends and violated quiet hours.

hawks: oh god, i’ll kill him for real this time.

*suddenly on the other side of the phone*

police officer: PUT OUT THIS FIRE SIR!!

[kinascum]

ZIP-TIEDᯓ★

Hank Thompson x PoliceOfficer!Reader (sorry)

wc: 3.1k | summary: oh you won't confess? alight ill make you talk, pretty boy. | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. DUBCON. interrogation. coercion. sexual content. explicit language. power dynamics. authority abuse. dark themes. talk of crime, stealing. talk of sickness. violence. restraints while engaging in sexual activities.

A/N: thanks m girl @aust-een for fueling this idea lmao

You stand outside the interrogation room, watching through the one-way mirror as Hank Thompson slumps in the chair, his eyes hollow, his jaw tight. The room is stark, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead casting an unflinching glow on the cold metal table and the two chairs. The air is thick with tension, a palpable silence that seems to hum with anticipation. You know he's the one—the infamous thief that's been taunting the city for months. The bookstore heist was just the latest in a string of burglaries, each more brazen than the last. But here he is, caught red-handed.

As you enter the room, the door swings shut with a heavy thud that echoes off the concrete walls. You don't bother with pleasantries or the reading of rights. He knows why he's here. You've studied his file, watched the security footage—his graceful moves and calculated precision. His reputation precedes him, and so does your resolve to get answers.

"No cameras," you say firmly, looking him in the eye. "No microphones. Just you and me."

He smirks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for a brief second before dropping back to the floor. "What makes you think I'll talk?"

You lean against the wall, crossing your arms. "You will. One way or another."

He chuckles darkly, the sound barely audible in the stark room. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

You don't answer, instead you start pacing the floor, the soles of your shoes squeaking on the clean tiles. The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring. You can almost feel the tension coiling around him, tightening with every step you take.

After a moment, you stop, your eyes locking onto his. "Look, Hank. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." You let the words hang in the air, a silent ultimatum.

He remains unmoved, his gaze unwavering. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

You take a deep breath, then cross the room to stand directly in front of him. You lean in close, your voice low and measured. "It means I'll get the answers I need, whether you give them to me now, or I have to... coax them out of you."

You can see the doubt flicker in his eyes, the beginnings of fear. Good. It's time to turn the heat up.

You start with simple questions, a dance of words meant to unravel his defenses. His replies are monosyllabic, gruff, but they come. You press on, your tone even, your gaze never leaving his. The room feels smaller with each question you ask, the air thickening like the plot of a noir thriller. The silence stretches taut between you, a tightrope of anticipation.

You decide to change tactics. You pull out a chair and sit down across from him, your eyes never leaving his. The chair scrapes against the floor, a jarring sound in the quiet room. You lean forward, your elbows resting on the table, your fingers steepled. "Hank," you say, your voice softer now, "why don't you tell me about the bookstore?"

He snorts, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "What's there to say?"

You lean back, your chair creaking under the weight of your frustration. You've seen his type before—slick, smug, thinking he's smarter than everyone else. But you're smarter. You've read his file, studied his patterns. You know he's hiding something. So you wait, watching the play of emotions across his face. And when he doesn't speak, you stand up, your movements deliberate, and pull the zip tie from your pocket.

You circle the chair, his eyes following you as you do. His breath hitches as you pull his arms behind his back, the plastic biting into his wrists as you secure them to the chair. He tries to jerk away, but you're stronger, more determined. "What the hell are you doing?" he snarls.

"Just making sure you don't go anywhere," you reply, your voice calm, almost casual. "You see, Hank, I've got all night."

He struggles against the restraints, his face reddening with rage. "You can't do this!" he spits.

You lean down so your face is inches from his. "Oh, but I can," you murmur. "And I will."

You start with the basics again, asking about the bookstore. His responses are still defiant, but the edge of fear is there now, sharper than before. You can see it in the way his eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape. But there isn't one. You're in control here.

You lean back in your chair, watching him squirm under the plastic. His breathing has become shallower, faster. The tension is palpable, a living thing in the room with you. "Let's try this again, Hank. What can you tell me about the bookstore?"

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "Nothing."

With a sigh, you stand up and walk around the table. He tries to lean away from you, but the chair is bolted to the floor. "You know, Hank," you murmur, your voice low and seductive, "I'm not a big fan of playing games."

You place your hand on his thigh, feeling the muscles tense beneath the fabric of his pants. He jerks at the sudden contact, his eyes snapping up to yours. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Your smile is cold, calculated. "I'm making sure you understand the gravity of the situation." You slide your hand up, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his crotch. His body responds despite his protests, his cock stiffening under your touch.

He bucks against the chair, trying to break free, but the zip ties hold firm. "You can't do this!"

You lean in close, your breath warm against his ear. "And what are you gonna do?"

Your hand starts to move in slow, torturous circles, your grip tightening just enough to keep him on the edge. His eyes roll back in his head, his teeth gritted as he fights the pleasure you're giving him. But you're in no rush. You've got all night.

You whisper in his ear, your voice a silky promise. "Every time you lie to me, I'll make it harder for you. But every time you tell the truth, I'll make it feel so good."

He grunts, his body straining against the restraints. "What do you want to know?"

You lean back, your hand still wrapped around his cock, stroking him with a maddening gentleness. "The truth, Hank. That's all I want."

He grits his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck you."

You increase the pressure slightly, watching as his body tenses. "The more you resist, the more you'll regret it."

You can feel him fighting it, his hips pushing against your hand, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His voice is strained, desperate. "What...what do you want to know?"

You lean in closer, your breath hot on his neck. "Everything."

You start with the night of the bookstore heist. Your hand moves in a steady rhythm, each stroke bringing him closer to the edge. He clenches his fists, his knuckles white. "What happened that night?"

He groans, his body betraying his resolve. "I...I went in...for the books."

You tighten your grip, slowing down. "And?"

He swallows hard, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to...to take the money."

You feel his cock pulse in your hand, but you don't let him finish. "Why did you do it, Hank?"

He pants, his eyes wild with need. "I needed it...for...for my sister's medication."

You ease up, his erection subsiding slightly. "Go on."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I...I had no choice. She's sick."

You nod, your grip loosening slightly. "What did you do with the money?"

"I...I gave it to her," he gasps out, his voice strained. "I didn't keep a dime."

You resume the slow, torturous strokes, feeling him harden again. "What about the other jobs? The jewelry, the art?"

He shakes his head, his eyes pleading. "I don't know what you're talking about."

You squeeze harder, his hips bucking. "Don't lie to me, Hank."

He lets out a strangled cry. "Okay, okay! I did them. But...but it was always for a good cause. I never kept anything for myself."

You lean back, studying his face. The lies are coming easier now, his need for release overwhelming his pride. "Who did you sell the items to?"

His breath catches, his body trembling. "A...a fence. I don't know his name."

You don't buy it. You know he's holding out on you. You lean in, your voice a whisper. "Hank, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me everything."

He growls, his eyes flashing with anger and desperation, his release inching closer. "I don't know! I swear!"

You lean back, your hand leaving his crotch. He gasps, his eyes snapping open, his body rigid with unfulfilled need. "What?" he pants, the question a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You lean back in your chair, folding your arms. "I said I want the truth, Hank. No more games."

The room is silent for a long moment, the only sounds his ragged breaths and the distant murmur of the precinct. His eyes dart around the room, searching for something—anything—that might give him a way out of this. But there's nothing. Just the two of you and the truth that hangs heavy in the air.

"Please," he whispers, his voice cracking. "Please don't do this."

You stand, walking around the table to stand in front of him again. You lean down, your hand resting on the zip tie, ready to tighten it. "The fence's name, Hank."

He closes his eyes, his jaw clenched. "Vic," he says through gritted teeth. "Vic Castellanos."

You straighten, a flicker of satisfaction crossing your face. That's a name you recognize. A big fish in the city's criminal underbelly. But you don't let him see it. Instead, you lean down, your voice a seductive purr. "Good boy."

You run your hand along his thigh, your fingertips dancing up to his crotch again. He jerks, his body begging for release. But you stop just short, your hand hovering over him. "But that's not all I need to know."

He groans, his eyes pleading. "What...what else?"

You smile, a wicked glint in your eye. "Everything, Hank. Every detail."

With a flick of your wrist, you unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. His cock springs free, hard and desperate. He tries to struggle again, but the chair holds him firmly in place. You take a moment to appreciate the view, the way his erection juts out, pulsing with the rhythm of his racing heart. Then, you wrap your hand around him, your grip firm but gentle.

You start to stroke, slow and deliberate. His eyes roll back in his head, a strangled sound escaping his throat. "The...the...other jobs," he gasps. "They were...for charity. For kids, for the homeless."

You keep your rhythm steady, your eyes never leaving his face. "Go on."

His breath comes in ragged pants now, his hips moving with your hand. "The...the diamonds," he whispers. "They...they were for a children's hospital."

You nod, your hand moving a little faster. "And the art?"

"A...a museum," he chokes out. "They needed...needed funding."

You lean in, your breath hot against his ear. "Why steal for them?"

He swallows hard, his body tight with need. "Because...because no one else would help."

Your hand speeds up, your grip tightening. "What about the people you hurt, Hank?"

He opens his eyes, the reality of his actions crashing over him. "They...they didn't matter."

You stop, your hand hovering just above his cock. "What makes you think they didn't matter?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain and desperation. "Because...because the ones I was helping mattered more."

You resume stroking, your touch a little softer now. "But they were just pawns in your game, weren't they?"

He nods, his eyes squeezed shut. "Yes," he whispers.

You lean back, watching him. His body is taut with tension, his breathing erratic. You know he's close, so close to the edge. But not yet. "Tell me about the last job, Hank. The one that went wrong."

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "It...it was a mistake. I didn't mean to get caught."

You cock your head, your eyes gleaming. "And what did you take?"

He grits his teeth, the struggle clear on his face. "A...a necklace. For...for my sister."

You nod, your hand moving faster now. "And why did you choose that necklace?"

"It...it was her birthday," he gasps, his eyes filling with tears. "I wanted to make her happy."

You lean in, your voice a gentle caress. "What was so special about that necklace?"

Hank's body jerks as he fights back the sob that threatens to escape. "It...it was one like our mother's. She...she never got to wear it. I wanted her to have something of hers."

The room feels heavier with the weight of his confession, the air thick with unshed tears. But you don't let up. You need all the information he has. "Where is it now, Hank?"

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezed shut. "I...I don't know. I had to ditch it when you...you caught me."

You stroke him a little faster, his cock hardening in your grip. "Where did you hide it?"

He moans, his hips bucking involuntarily, a tear slipping from his eye. "In...in a locker at the bus station. Number 43."

You nod, your hand moving faster, your strokes now a blur. He's close, so close. You can see the sweat beading on his forehead, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. And then, with a strangled cry, he finally breaks, his body convulsing as he climaxes, hot cum spurting into the space between his stomach and the chair. You watch with a detached fascination, your hand still moving until the last tremor passes through him.

As he pants for breath, his body limp with exhaustion, you lean down and whisper in his ear, "Good boy." You give his cock one final squeeze before releasing it, watching as it goes soft again. You step back, your heart pounding in your chest. You've got what you wanted—his confession, the fence's name, the location of the necklace. But the game isn't over yet.

You pull a handkerchief from your pocket and offer it to him. He looks at it with a mix of disgust and gratitude, using it to clean himself up. You watch, your expression unreadable. "You know, Hank," you say, your voice low and calm, "you're not such a bad guy. Just...misplaced."

He glares up at you, his wrists still bound by the zip tie. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

You shrug, tucking the handkerchief back in your pocket. "You had a reason. A good one, even." You lean back against the wall, crossing your arms again. "But you're still a thief."

The anger in his eyes fades to something else—despair, maybe. "What are you going to do to me?"

You smile, a cold, hard smile that sends a shiver down his spine. "Oh, Hank. That's not for me to decide."

You leave him there, the room echoing with the sound of his labored breathing. You've got your answers, but the night is still young. And there's so much more to uncover about Hank, the man behind the mask. As you walk back to your office, you can't help but wonder what other secrets he's hiding. And how much more of himself he'll be willing to give up before the dawn breaks.

taglist! @baileysturns @joyouswonders @eternal-love

[misfitbimbosblog]

SO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME HE WAS HIDING ALL THIS UNDER THAT JEAN JACKET AT THE CONVENTION MATT SMITH PLS LEAVE THE JACKET AT HOME WHEN YOU COME TO MEGACON.🧎🏻‍♀️ I am simply GAGGED

[gilverrwrites]

Sorry no brain function tonight just a little mermaid-esque AU, only instead of a Prince, it’s Pirate Captain Slade Wilson.

His men catch you in their nets whilst fishing one day. They're none too pleased to find you, It’s bad luck to have women on board, even fish women, could be a siren those are really bad news but Slade is instantly intrigued. He’ll be damned if he’s gonna throw back a treasure like you, and if his men have a problem with that, they know where the plank is.

So perhaps he keeps you captive, or maybe you too are fascinated by this strange large human like none you’ve seen before with his silver hair, and a single eye bluer than the Indian Ocean. Whatever the reason, you stay.

Adjusting to human legs is hard upon a ship, the spray of the sea often tripping your transformation. Other times because Slade grows impatient with your tripping and balancing and so he throws you over his shoulder when he’s in a hurry, big ol’ hands wandering a little too close to your cavern, but never as close as you’d like.

The fact that you can’t talk isn’t a huge issue, because Slade talks a lot. Pompous nonsense if you were to ask his quartermaster Deadman Todd, but talk nonetheless. And his voice is so smooth, so authoritative, it’s like the shore on a stormy day and you could listen to it endlessly.

He tells you about his mute son back on shore though, and teaches you hand signs to help you communicate with him. At dock he ‘obtains’ books he thinks may be to your liking, using them to teach you how to read and write. But books aren’t the only things he brings you, he likes to dress you up in shiny jewels and fine skirts that show off your cleavage and your legs when you’re skipping around the deck, winding up his men with your unapologetically feminine wiles. Your free-spiritedness, while often endearing does grate their nerves often. This is an adventure for you, a strange fish-fetishist fantasy for their boss, but it’s their lives.

To placate his men and return the favour of Slade’s gifts, you chart maps for them, directing him and his crew to the locations of long-lost treasures and suggesting routes that will keep them away from the dangerous creatures that lurk beneath.

Until one night a bad storm hits, all but capsizing the ship, knocking many men overboard.

Despite your silent arguments, Slade instructs you to wait it out below deck, and reluctantly you agree until you hear that he too has been buried by your salty mistress. Without hesitation you dive in after him, collecting his scattered men and bringing them to the surface until you find your human.

As the tempest begins to calm, Todd helps you to hoist every man with a pulse back aboard. It takes 3 men to haul their deadweight captain, and you spend far too long attempting to breathe air back into his lungs but just when things look like they might never be the same again, he pulls through.

By sun up everyone is hammered, singing shanties and making the most of their 2nd, 3rd, 10th chance at life.

Everyone but you and Slade, who had hurled you over his shoulder the first chance he’d got. Who’s taken you back to his quarters, thrown you on his bed, stripped you off your finery and laid siege to your body the way he’d been craving since he’d first seen you in that net.

Oh ho ho and don’t get me started on Deadman Todd and his fancy for the rebellious daughter of rival Captain; Roman Sionis ;)

[austinbutlerslovers]

I just want to say I'm in awe of your talent, that you're able to create such hot and detailed stories from just one or two pictures. You're amazing.

I mean… look at him, he could inspire novels 🥵 I can’t even control it when I write fics from a single picture.

🔗 Pleasure & Pain 🔗 Fight Training 🔗 After Hours

🔗 The Good Girl 🔗 Teachers Pet 🔗 Overstimulation

[fqiryspit]

fuck you omgggg this is annoying asf 😫 not to mention embarrassing for me...like steal something else when im reporting you girl.

thank you to the absolute doll that lmk about this mwah mwah i love you i love you!!!!

[anything-pov]

Y/N: Did you two eat my emergency chocolate?

Emily: Define “emergency.”

JJ: Yeah, Emily was stress-eating during Reid’s chess meltdown.

Y/N: And you just… joined her?

JJ: I left you a granola bar!

Y/N: Granola doesn’t replace chocolate, JJ.

Emily: We’ll buy you a new one.

Y/N: Not good enough.

JJ: Fine, two bars. Happy?

Y/N: Make it three… for emotional damages.

JJ: You’re lucky we love you.

Y/N: And don’t you forget it :).

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: A Table for Two - One Shot

Author’s Note:

I’m not sure if I’m totally happy with this one, but here you go.

Word Count: 3,706

Masterlist

The restaurant was one of those cosy, tucked-away spots that felt like a secret only a few people knew about. The lights were dim, the air filled with the aroma of rich food, and the low hum of quiet conversations created an intimate atmosphere that wrapped around us as soon as we walked in.

I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Hank as we settled into the booth, the soft leather curving around us, forcing us to sit close. Tonight, he looked different—a bit more polished than usual, his typical laid-back style replaced with a fitted button-down shirt that hugged his shoulders just right, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off that casual confidence he wore so well. He looked incredible, and judging by the glances we were getting from a few nearby tables, I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Alright, who are you and what have you done with my Hank?” I teased, leaning forward on my elbows and giving him a playful look.

He rolled his eyes, though I could see a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Thought I’d make an effort for you tonight,” he replied, giving me a slow, appreciative look in return. “You don’t look so bad yourself, by the way.”

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his gaze as it lingered on me. I’d chosen a black dress that fit in all the right places, the fabric soft and silky against my skin, and I knew it was a step up from my usual casual style. I’d even added a bit of extra makeup, just enough to make my eyes pop, and from the way Hank’s gaze kept drifting over me, it seemed he approved.

“So, what’s the occasion?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light even as I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine.

He shrugged, giving me that lopsided grin I loved so much. “No occasion. Just wanted to treat you. Figured we could do with a night out that’s a little… different.”

“Different how?” I tilted my head, curious and already excited.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Different in the sense that I get to spoil you tonight. Relax, enjoy a nice dinner… and maybe see where the night takes us after that.”

The promise in his tone made my pulse quicken, and I found myself biting my lip to hide a smile. He was clearly setting the tone for a romantic night, but I had other plans. If he thought we were just here for a quiet dinner, he was in for a surprise.

As we looked over the menu, I let my hand rest on his forearm, tracing gentle circles with my fingers. “You really do clean up nicely,” I murmured, leaning in closer, my shoulder pressing against his.

“Yeah?” His gaze met mine, a flicker of curiosity mixed with amusement. “Glad you approve.”

“Oh, I more than approve,” I whispered, letting my fingers drift down from his forearm to his wrist, barely brushing his skin. “It’s almost… distracting.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?”

I didn’t answer, just gave him a slow, knowing smile as my hand shifted to rest on his thigh, just above his knee. It was innocent enough at first, just a light touch as if for balance, but I saw the slight shift in his expression, the flicker of awareness in his eyes.

“Looking forward to the food?” I asked, my fingers tracing small circles just above his knee, barely brushing the fabric of his trousers.

He cleared his throat, giving me a sidelong glance as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I—uh, heard good things about this place.”

“Me too,” I replied, letting my hand inch a little higher, my fingers moving with slow, deliberate intent. “But I think I might be in the mood for something a little more… exciting.”

His gaze flicked down to my hand, then back up to meet my eyes. “Oh yeah?” he murmured, trying to sound casual, but I could see the tension building in his jaw.

I nodded, biting my lip as I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze before letting my hand drift higher.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand coming to rest over mine, trying to still my movements. But I could feel his pulse quicken beneath my touch, his fingers tightening over mine. “Y/N…” he warned softly, his voice low and full of tension.

“Yes?” I blinked up at him, feigning innocence.

He opened his mouth to reply, but just then, the waiter arrived with our drinks, forcing Hank to sit back and try to compose himself. He released my hand reluctantly, giving me a look that promised consequences later.

Just as my fingers inched a little further up his thigh, I could see Hank’s breathing deepen, his hand subtly tightening around his drink. Sensing his growing tension, I pulled my hand back, giving him a sweet, innocent smile that had him raising an eyebrow in barely veiled suspicion.

We quickly shifted our focus to the menu, exchanging glances and comments as we made our choices. We ordered, and as soon as the waiter left Hank relaxed back into his seat, looking at me with a mix of amusement and something darker in his gaze. “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, leaning in close enough that he’d feel the heat of my breath. “What can I say? You did tell me to relax and enjoy the night,” I murmured, my lips brushing the edge of his ear.

He gave me a long, considering look, as if trying to decide just how much trouble I intended to be tonight. But before he could say anything more, the clinking of plates interrupted, and our waiter arrived with the starters, momentarily pulling our attention back to the table.

As we started eating, I picked up a bite-sized piece from my plate and held it up to his lips. “Here,” I said, my voice soft as I guided it towards him.

Hank raised an eyebrow but opened his mouth, letting me feed him. As I pulled my hand away, I let my fingers linger just a little, brushing against his lips. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, the air between us thickened, charged with something unspoken.

“Behave,” he whispered, his voice a mix of amusement and warning, though the smile on his lips told me he was enjoying every second. But I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him tonight. Where was the fun in that?

I leaned back, reaching for my wine glass with a little smirk. “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied innocently, letting my fingers drift under the table until they found his knee.

He shot me a knowing look but said nothing, focusing on his food as if he weren’t completely aware of the way my fingers were now tracing slow, lazy circles on his knee. I took my time, letting the conversation flow naturally, laughing and chatting as though I wasn’t slowly inching my hand a little higher every now and then.

“You keep that up, and we might not make it through dessert,” he whispered, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

I tilted my head, feigning innocence even as my fingers dared to edge closer. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as if to regain control, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darkened with each subtle movement of my hand. The waiter returned with our main courses, and as the plates were placed in front of us, I pulled my hand back, giving Hank a sweet, innocent smile that earned me an arched eyebrow and a look of barely contained amusement.

As soon as we were left alone again, we dug into our meals, exchanging glances and casual conversation. But I didn’t wait long before letting my hand drift back under the table, settling once more on his thigh. This time, Hank placed his hand over mine, as if to keep it in place—but his grip was loose, giving me just enough freedom to continue my gentle exploration.

As I edged higher, my fingertips grazed over the firmness building beneath the fabric of his trousers, and I felt him twitch beneath my touch. His breath hitched ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it, taking a sip of his drink, his grip tightening around the glass as though it could anchor him.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a hint of warning beneath the amusement. But his hand didn’t stop me; if anything, it seemed to press mine down just a little more firmly against him, almost like he was encouraging me.

I let my fingers roam a bit further, tracing along the outline of his growing cock, feeling it harden under my touch. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as though trying to keep his cool, but the slight twitch under my hand betrayed him. It was intoxicating, knowing I was getting to him even in this public setting, pushing him to the edge while we sat mere feet away from other diners.

“Still enjoying dinner?” I whispered, my fingers pressing just a bit more firmly against his bulge, eliciting a barely audible groan from him.

He shot me a look, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and barely-contained desire. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he replied, his voice low, each word measured as though he was struggling to keep it steady. But I could tell from the way his cock twitched beneath my hand that he was right on the brink.

I leaned in close, letting my lips brush his ear as I whispered, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

For a moment, he seemed to grapple with himself, torn between the need to stay composed and the growing desire that was making him shift restlessly in his seat. I gave him one last, teasing press against his hardness, feeling him pulse beneath my touch, before I finally withdrew my hand, taking a sip of my wine as though nothing had happened.

Hank’s gaze lingered on me, dark and intense, and I could see the promise in his eyes—a promise that whatever restraint he’d shown tonight wouldn’t last much longer. And the thought made me bite back a smile, my own anticipation growing for what was sure to come once we had a bit more privacy.

As soon as our main courses were done, I let my hand drift back to Hank’s thigh, resuming those slow, maddening circles I knew were driving him crazy. His whole body tensed, and he shot me a look, one part warning, the other pure, dark hunger.

He swallowed, shifting slightly in his seat as if that would somehow help him regain control. “Y/N…” he began, his voice low and strained. But there was no real conviction behind it, and I knew he was close to breaking.

“Hmm?” I murmured, keeping my face perfectly innocent as my hand moved with deliberate, teasing slowness over his thigh, edging higher until I was more than just brushing against his now rock-hard cock. My fingers pressed firmly, tracing his length in a way that left no room for subtlety. I could feel the heat radiating through his trousers, the hard, undeniable evidence of just how much he wanted me.

“Something wrong?” I asked, my tone light, almost playful, as my hand lingered, pressing slightly, feeling him throb under my touch.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hand shot to mine, gripping it tightly, but instead of stopping me, his fingers seemed to hold me in place, as if torn between restraint and surrender. His eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and barely controlled desire, flicking down to my hand and then back to my face, his breaths shallow. He was right on the edge, his control fraying, and the thrill of knowing I could unravel him this way sent a shiver through me.

Finally, with a shaky exhale, he dropped his napkin onto the table. “That’s it,” he muttered, his voice so low only I could hear, and in one smooth movement, he got up, pulling me with him. His hand wrapped firmly around mine as he led us out, leaving the table without a glance back.

“Hank,” I whispered, a laugh escaping as I tried to keep up with his pace. “The bill—”

“Taken care of,” he replied through gritted teeth, not slowing down as we made our way to the exit. “But you… we’re not done.”

Once outside, he wasted no time flagging down a cab, barely containing himself as he held the door open for me. The tension between us was electric, thickening the air around us as he slid into the cab, his hand resting possessively on my thigh, his grip firm as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance.

As we settled in the back seat, he kept himself composed, but his hand stayed on my leg, his thumb brushing slow, torturous circles that only heightened the anticipation humming between us. Every so often, he’d shoot me a look—a mix of impatience and something darker, a promise of what was to come once we were finally alone.

The cab ride felt endless, the city lights blurring past as he kept his hand on my thigh, fingers tightening every time I shifted closer, teasing him just a little more. By the time we pulled up outside my place, his restraint was practically hanging by a thread. He handed the driver cash without a word, his gaze locked on me, smouldering with barely veiled intent as we hurried up to my door.

I unlocked the door, stepping into the centre of the room, turning to face him as he closed the door with a quiet click, the finality of it sending a thrill through me. I didn’t have to wait long; he was on me in an instant, striding over and closing the distance with a dark, hungry look in his eyes.

Without a word, he reached for me, fingers sliding into my hair and giving it a firm, grounding tug that tilted my head back, exposing my neck to him. His mouth was there in an instant, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin, each one leaving a trail of heat.

His free hand slipped up, wrapping gently around my throat, thumb resting just beneath my jaw, keeping my gaze locked with his. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through me, his fingers firm but careful, a perfect blend of dominance and restraint. His other hand stayed buried in my hair, holding me close as his lips crashed against mine in a kiss that was raw, intense, and completely consuming.

I gasped against his mouth, the sensation overwhelming, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, leaving me breathless. My fingers found the waistband of his trousers, fumbling slightly in my eagerness as I reached for the zip, tugging it down. I slipped my hand inside, through the fly, and felt him shudder as I closed my fingers around him, his cock hard and hot in my hand. The quiet groan that escaped him only spurred me on, my thumb brushing along his length as I felt him pulse against my touch.

A low growl escaped his throat, and he pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and need. His hand moved from my neck to the buttons on my dress, his fingers curling around the fabric. In one swift, determined motion, he yanked, popping the buttons open, the sound of each one tearing free echoing in the silence of the room.

The fabric parted, falling open from my chest down to my waist, exposing the bare curves beneath, my skin flushed under his heated gaze. His eyes dropped, and his breathing grew heavier as he took in the sight of me, a fierce hunger etched across his face, his restraint unraveling moment by moment.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with want, his thumb grazing the base of my throat, feeling the rapid beat of my pulse beneath his touch. His eyes flicked back up to mine, and then he was on me again, kissing me with a fervour that was almost bruising, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me steady as if to keep me exactly where he wanted.

With a low growl, he deepened the kiss, his mouth claiming mine in a way that left no space between us, his hand moving down from my jaw to slide over my collarbone, fingers pressing firmly as he traced the edge of the open dress. I felt his other hand slip around to my waist, gripping me tightly, pulling me flush against him as his body pressed me backwards, forcing me to stumble slightly in my heels until I felt the cool edge of the countertop behind me.

I gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, but his lips found my neck instantly, biting and sucking in a way that sent sparks straight down my spine. His hands roamed over my bare skin, fingers digging into my hips, guiding me until I was perched on the edge of the countertop, the cool surface a sharp contrast against the heat between us.

He didn’t waste a second, his hand sliding up my thigh, rough and insistent, moving higher until his fingers found the fabric of my underwear. His breath was ragged against my skin, and his hand paused only for a moment before he yanked them aside, his touch sending a shockwave through me as he explored my dripping cunt with rough precision, leaving me gasping.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered against my neck, his voice rough with need, his words heavy with a raw, possessive edge that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t wait for a response, just pulled back enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an unrestrained hunger. His thumb brushed over my clit, slow and deliberate, teasing, relentless.

I gasped as he slid his other hand lower, guiding his cock to press against me, the heat and hardness of him leaving no space between us. His mouth claimed mine again, swallowing my moan as he thrust forward, filling me completely in a single, powerful motion that stole my breath. My hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging in as he set a hard, unrelenting rhythm, each thrust deep and rough, fuelled by a barely contained intensity.

Every movement sent a wave of heat spiralling through me, the pace building faster as he held me tight, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth never left mine, the kiss as desperate and hungry as his movements, his breath hot against my lips. The taste of him, the feel of him moving inside me, was dizzying, overwhelming, as he pushed us both closer to the edge, the raw urgency between us leaving no room for restraint.

The intensity between us escalated, his pace quickening as I clung to him, both of us lost in the overwhelming need that had been building all night. Every movement drove us closer, each sensation heightened, until finally, I felt him tense, a low groan escaping his lips. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he held me tight, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of raw desire and hesitation.

“Sweetheart…” he murmured, his voice thick with urgency. “Can I… come on you?”

The request sent a thrill through me, and I met his gaze, nodding. “Yes,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips. He pulled out, barely keeping control as I took over, wrapping my hand around him with purpose.

I kept my strokes steady, watching his jaw clench, his breath hitching with every movement. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and full of anticipation as I quickened my pace, guiding him right to the edge.

With a groan, he finally let go, his release spilling over my stomach in warm, rhythmic pulses. He shuddered, his breathing ragged, eyes softening as he looked at me, satisfaction mingling with a deeper warmth in the shared moment.

After a beat, he pulled away slightly, reaching for a nearby dish towel, his movements gentle as he carefully wiped me clean, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Sorry about the mess,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

I smiled, my fingers tracing light patterns along his back. “Nothing to apologise for,” I whispered, still catching my breath, feeling the pleasant ache of the intensity we’d shared.

He stayed close, brushing his thumb gently over my cheek, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that felt almost tender in the aftermath of everything we’d shared. The silence between us was comfortable, a quiet moment filled with unspoken words and lingering glances, our breaths slowly steadying as the world around us softened.

Eventually, he straightened, a hint of that familiar grin returning to his face as he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I think I owe you a proper dessert after that.”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. “Oh, is that so?”

He smirked, his fingers tracing a line down my arm before intertwining with mine. “Absolutely. But first…” He gave my hand a squeeze, a playful spark in his eyes. “Maybe we should start with round two.”

I felt my cheeks heat up as he leaned in, brushing his lips over mine in a kiss that was somehow softer, yet just as filled with promise. And as he pulled me closer, I couldn’t help but smile, already lost in the anticipation of what the night still held.

[nourangul]

Bad Habits

Truthfully, I know nothing about Caught Stealing, I have the book on order, but it has to get here before I can get a sense of what his character will be. That didn't stop me from being utterly taken by the Matt Smith Punk Era. So without further ado, a shot in the dark but with nighttime vibes I really like: Red from the upcoming Caught Stealing with Austin Butler.

Divider by Firefly Graphics

It was late, the darkness pressing hard on those still up and about like an oppressive blanket beckoning to sleep. She had yet to go to bed or even attempt to and the need for sleep clawed at her eyes as surely as her tears had.  The lighter clicked alive and left her eyes dazzled as she sparked another cheap fucking cigarette to life. Her ashtray was near full to overflowing, ash dusting the kitchen table that was every bit as cheap as her cigarettes with its new scuffs. Another stupid fight with another stupid boyfriend. Another breakup to add to the fucking list.  Gods, how fucking many times before she fucking learned? And how many fucking times before she stopped calling him? At least Red hadn’t picked up this time, but she still left a message. He was still a bad habit, same as the cheap fucking cigarettes and she had no real want to quitting either.  “Maybe he won’t come or call, maybe he’s finally fucking done with our bullshit.” She murmured to the thick darkness that coated her rundown apartment in silence. It was cheap like everything else, cheap like her, but it was home. Though even she couldn’t find comfort in the silence anymore and went to the record player and her favorite moping album. Venus In Furs by The Velvet Underground crackled over the barely holding on speaker and she let out a sigh of relief. It was her favorite song for late night. She'd gone through so many singles that she’d just bought the entire record… a few times. No matter how dark her thoughts were, this song always got her moving.  And it always seemed to herald a knock at the door.  Like a demon called to some archaic chant, Red always seemed to show up to this song. When she needed him the most—and wished equally hard she didn’t.  And he never denied her the company.  His hair was down and pushed to one side and damp… was it raining? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter as she pulled him inside and slipped into his arms like it was as easy as breathing. He smelled like stale cigarettes, cheap beer, and sweat, the leather jacket needed a good cleaning, but she didn’t care. He was big, warm, strong and… Her complete weakness. Always and ever in his arms. Always and never under him making her barely big enough bed squeak and bang against the wall.  When she kissed him, he tasted like home with an edge of salt from her own tears.  “Stay, Red? Even if it’s just until morning.” She wasn’t begging, nor exactly… but she was close. Dignity didn’t factor when she was pressed against him. Something soft and chilled against a heated brick wall.  “We gotta stop meeting like this—makes me wanna fucking kill whatever idiot made you cry like this.” He was gruff and his voice was low and he’d make good on the threat. Somehow, it was funny. Just a little bit.  “Even if the idiot is you, sometimes?” He shook his head and held her face in his hands. A slice of warm heaven.  “You ever gonna let me be your fucking idiot, babe? Or am I just a bad habit?” Her eyes were dark as the song ended and she laid her chilly hands atop his.  “Maybe you can be born. Ask me in the morning, Red. Right now, I’ll make you promises I can’t keep and you deserve better than that from me.” They both knew that was a lie. She’d make good on every single promise he pulled out of her. She always had. 

Bonus punk Matty:

[gu6chan]

will say about the dnd party im part of one of the characters is, according to their player, inspired off nifty from hazbin hotel and it shows (negative)

[leviiackrman]

“What if he stares at you every time you look away?”

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