#caught stealing x

[austinbutlerslovers]

Zip Ties

Label Mature 18+

Summary Your boyfriend Hank is always in trouble, so when he asks to practice getting out of being zip-tied to a steering wheel —you just bring the zip ties.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Hank zip tied to a steering wheel •teasing •edging•dirty talk•blowjob• clit play•oral on fem•sex in a car •overstimulation•squirting• cream-pie•orgasm•aftercare

🔗 Master list

Dedicated to: @aust-een @umika @austinbutlerfly @feralgodmothers

Zip Ties

Your boyfriends is in trouble—again, but when is Hank not in trouble? So when he tells you he wants to learn how to get out of zip ties while in a car, you just bring the zip ties without a second thought.

He slides into the passenger seat, placing a knife on the dashboard, his familiar smirk playing at his lips as he brings his wrists through the spokes of the steering wheel.

���Pull them real tight,” he instructs his voice low and hurried.

“Speaking from experience?” you joke, giving the ties a satisfying zip as you pull them tight around his wrists.

He shoots you a look with the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve gotten out of,” he says, his tone somewhere between amusement and something a little darker.

With that, he sets his focus on his wrists, pulling against the plastic restraint. 

His shoulders tense and shift as he angles his arms. Every twist and pull makes his body strain just a little more, the effort evident in the way his jaw tightens. 

You watch him with amusement wondering what the hell spurred him into suddenly needing this particular skill.

“Hank I don’t think you’re getting out,” you say with intrigue as his breaths come in heavier, but his focus is absolute, even though the zip ties hold firm, unmoved by his struggle.

“If I could just…” he mutters, straining harder, “get the right angle.” He shifts, planting a foot against the floor, bracing himself as he pulls, his wrists beginning to turn red from the effort.

You can’t help but take in the sight, the way his frustration grows with every second he can’t break free.

He looks hot—there’s no denying it, with that look of pure determination in his eyes, the flex of his muscles, and the way he’s practically begging for release…in more ways than one.

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you watch his futile efforts. 

“What if you can’t get out Hank?” you ask, eyes glinting with mischief. He turns his attention on you and for a second, his defiant look tempered by something else.

“Then I’m fucked if this happens again,” he admits, his gaze dropping back to his wrists, now raw from his attempts. There’s a flush creeping up his neck, a stubborn determination that won’t let him give up—even though he’s clearly not breaking free.

“Fucked how?” you press, leaning in closer, unable to hide the smile in your voice. He gives you a look, eyes narrowing, his face tinged with color as he begins to realize his situation.

“Don’t start,” he warns, his voice a little rougher.

You reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“And what if I start?” You ask, your voice softer, the look in your eyes daring him. “How would you stop me if I did?” You ask trailing your finger down his neck. 

He’s silent now and you can see his brain going a mile a minute—trapped in a car with my girlfriend ziptied to the steering wheel— you grin as you see the shift in his expression showing his surrender.

“Poor Hank” You coo leaning closer trailing your finger down his chest,

“You wanted to learn how to get out of zipties,” you say teasingly. “But now I’m starting to think I might like you right where you are.”

He lets out a breath, a flush creeping up his neck as his eyes flick downward.

You savor every second of his helplessness, taking in the way he looks at you, bound and vulnerable, and with a soft, teasing smile, you lean in, letting your lips meet his in a slow, deepening kiss. 

At first, he’s still, holding onto that last bit of resistance, but then you feel him give in, his lips parting as he kisses you back, his breath mingling with yours in a quiet, unspoken acceptance.

Slowly, you pull away from his mouth, letting the tension build as you trail kisses along his jaw, slow and deliberate, leading your way toward his ear.

“Do you know how much I want you right now?” You ask pressing a kiss on his jaw.

Your words make his chest rise and fall faster and as he meets your gaze, he’s unable to hide just how much he wants you too.

“Please,” he whispers, the single word rough and unguarded, revealing how eager he is. 

“Alright Hank” you say playfully.

You continue to trail kisses slowly drifting down his neck, savoring every inch as your lips brush against his skin. As you reach his chest, you let your fingers trail along the fabric of his blue shirt, pulling it open wider, exposing more of him to your touch. 

Your eyes trail downward to his lap seeing the unmistakable outline of his hard cock pressing against the denim. 

The sight alone sends a thrill through you, and without hesitation you reach down unbuttoning and lowering the zipper of his jeans. 

You slide your fingers into his waistband, tugging just enough to make him feel it, then glance up at him with a lustful gaze. “Lift for me,” you say, the words filled with a taunting edge.

With a low breath, he shifts, lifting his hips just enough to let you slide his jeans down his thighs. His big cock springs free, thick and hard, swaying slightly before it settles in his lap.

You glance up, meeting his gaze, and see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, that slight edge of desperation he can’t quite hide.

“Do you want me to suck your cock Hank?” You ask with a hint of playfulness.

The flush on his face deepens, spreading down his chest as he closes his eyes for a second, jaw tight, as if somehow that will help him push down his need.

He exhales sharply, his voice heavy with vulnerability as he answers. “Yes.”

You grin, savoring the control you hold over him and gently push his legs open wider as you lean into his lap.

Your lips reach his inner thigh first, pressing soft teasing kisses against his skin and his breath catches feeling how close you are to his cock. 

His body tenses as you take more time, letting your lips linger with each kiss, moving slowly up his thigh.

You lift slightly, letting your tongue lick a smooth line along his thigh until his breath catches, then your mouth descends, biting the sweet spot that makes his cock twitch as he groans above you waiting to be sucked.

You instead only flick your tongue along the base of his cock driving him insane as his thighs tense until they begin tremble.  

“Baby please” he whispers losing all resolve.

His cock is rock hard now a deep shade of pink as the tip weeps precum, but instead of satisfying his need you lift back up to face him. 

“Do you want to come Hank? “ you ask swirling your thumb along his sensitive tip as his hips buck up instantly seeking more.

“Y-Yes…” he pants, the word tumbling from his lips, strained and desperate, barely holding himself together as he watches you.

Without hesitation, you lower yourself, bringing his tip into your mouth licking and kissing along the sensitive head before taking him deeper as you begin to suck his cock.

His eyes close involuntarily, his head tipping back, surrendering completely to the sheer bliss washing over him.

You glide from the top to the middle, then back up again, your lips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm, savoring every inch as you take his cock deeper with each pass.

You feel his body tense as you push yourself to take him as deeply as you can and his  breaths turn ragged as your lips stretch tightly around him until you reach your limit. 

The soft sounds of his restrained pleasure only fuel your arousal, driving you to take him harder and faster, your rhythm intensifying as you suck him deeply, taking his cock all the way in and out, then back in again.

Each time you take him fully, you feel his cock twitch, his breaths turning into barely contained, shaky gasps.

“Baby—” he chokes out, as if he hadn’t expected you to go this far and intense on him.

His hands clench in the steering wheel, his wrists digging against the ziptie in as he fights to keep some semblance of control.

You keep sucking him steady and unrelenting, your own moans vibrating against him as you lose yourself in the rhythm. His smooth, hard cock feels incredible in your mouth, his taste lingering on your tongue, rich and intoxicating, making you want more with every pass

Your saliva is everywhere wetting his cock and as you glide up and down you suck him as deeply as you can, feeling his cock press against the back of your throat. You hold his cock there for as long as you can until you hear a desperate moan escape his lips finally losing control. 

His cock jerks inside your mouth as his voice chokes off showing just how close he to coming.

Suddenly, he tenses, a hint of panic rising in his voice as he whispers, “Babe, wait!”

But you don’t let up, savoring the way he’s unraveling under your touch his hips bucking against your mouth.

He lets out a strangled, nearly desperate sound, practically whimpering as he tries again, his voice even sharper this time, “Someone’s coming!” 

The words break though this time and you freeze, your heart skipping as you hear the faint sound of voices nearby.

You both thought this spot was secluded, hidden enough to give you privacy—but clearly, someone’s closer than either of you had anticipated. 

His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, torn between the thrill and the threat of being caught.

Quickly, you pull back just slightly, your breath warm against his cock as you listen to the sound of footsteps growing nearer.

“Cut me free!” he whispers urgently, his voice heavy with tension, the situation shifting instantly to serious.

You don’t hesitate, reaching over to grab the knife from the dash. With one swift, precise slice, you cut through the ziptie, freeing his wrists.

He flexes his hands, quickly rubbing at the marks left by the tip ties, his eyes darting toward the source of the voices.

Adrenaline is flooding your veins as you slip your back to the seat, both of your alert and ready to act natural if anyone appears. 

You don’t even catch a glimpse of who was approaching as the sound of far-off voices begins to fade in the distance, footsteps retreating back the way they came. The tension in your chest slowly loosens, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling the weight of the close call slip away.

Before you can even fully relax Hank hands find your waist and he pushes you down against the seat, his eyes dark and filled with barely restrained lust.

His hands find your hips, fingers hooking into your panties as he hastily pulls them off. 

You’re practically dripping out of your pussy as his eyes darken in delight seeing just how wet you are.

Without hesitation he pushes your legs up to your chest pressing his tip against your entrance. 

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” He says his eyes intense, his usual control slipping as he stares at you, clearly pushed far beyond his limits.

He thrusts himself into you hard and full stretching you to a depth that makes a sharp, involuntary sound rip from your throat and he holds you firmly in place savoring the sight of you as your walls tighten on his cock.

Your lips are parted, your chest rising and falling with every shaky breath, and your eyes are hazy, desperate with need—completely cock drunk  for him and he knows it.

“Baby —I’m not gonna last long ,” he admits, his voice rough, almost desperate. “But I’m gonna make both of us come”

His grip tightens on your thighs, his body pressed firmly against yours, as if he needs to feel every part of you to satisfy the need you’ve ignited in him.

He closes the distance in an instant, capturing your lips with a fierce, breathless kiss as he starts to fuck you hard and raw. 

He holds your thighs up firmly anchoring you in place with such a possessive grip that all you can do is moan as he thrusts into you, the squishing noises of your wet pussy turning him on even more. 

“Oh fuck-fuck-I’m gonna come” he pants as he begins pounding into you, hips smacking as you slowly you feel the tightening of your core deep inside.

“Please come in me—please fill me—please Hank” you babble incoherently whimpering and moaning losing your mind beneath him. 

He tries to hold back but his cock twitches and his pace falters, he groans gripping your thighs tighter but he can’t hold back and he comes. He yells with frustration and pleasure as he releases in you, hips thrusting their hardest.

You moan in pleasure as he holds you in place taking every inch of his cock as you take every last drop of his come.

Then he slowly pulls out keeping your legs held in place.

“I’m gonna make sure you come” he says breathlessly.

He keeps you to place hands behind your knees making you hold them back.

Then he takes three fingers rubbing them across your wet sensitive clit. 

You moan beneath him your body jerking as he starts playing with your clit, pressing it squeezing it.

You become so wet he can't resist and bends down between your thighs pulling your legs over his shoulders as he starts licking your pussy. 

He bites and sucks on your sensitive inner lips until your pushing against his face crying his name, then he pushes two fingers inside you.

He starts finger fucking you with your clit still held between his teeth and it feels so pleasurable you think your going to pee. “Hank-wait!” You squeal as you try to push him back, try to loosen your legs but he places his hands firm on top of yours forcing you in place.

You bite your lip eyes screwing shut trying to stop whats going to happen, but his fingers fuck your harder and faster as he holds your clit between his teeth and as he bites down you come, liquid squirting as you scream his name. 

He moans deeply against you, his mouth lingering as he laps up every last drop, and when he finally releases your legs, there’s a gentleness in his movements.

He trails slow, lingering kisses along your skin, his lips brushing over your thighs, up your stomach, along your chest, taking his time with each touch. When he finally reaches your lips, he pauses, his gaze locking onto yours, filled with a depth of emotion that says more than words ever could.

Then, he captures your lips in a soft, unhurried kiss, his mouth moving against yours with so much passion it leaves you both breathless.

He pulls back, staring into your eyes, his gaze soft, as his thumbs gently brush along your temples. 

“You drove me absolutely crazy,” he grins, his voice filled with warmth. “And I love you for it.”

You meet his gaze, pride flickering in yours as you fight to catch your breath. “Maybe I’ll… zip tie you… more often,” you tease with a playful smile on your lips.

He grins, pulling you even closer, his body warm and firm against yours. “I have to admit,” he says with a smirk, “This was definitely hotter than the first time when two guys held me hostage zip-tied to a steering wheel.”

You burst into laughter, his unexpected confession catching you completely off guard. He tries to shush you, pressing a finger lightly to your lips to tell you the full story, but he’s shaking barely able to keep a straight face himself. Before long, the two of you are having a fit of laughter, caught up in the absurdity and joy of the moment—because really, when is Hank not in trouble.

🧢 End 🧢

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @feralgodmothers @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @faegoddessog @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @psycheetamore @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @finley-08 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @megangovier @ifuckindontknow @kaelatargaryen @jjubilee-fluff

[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 🩷❣️🦖🐠

—

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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

[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!!

[lovemyselfyay]

AUSTIN IN BLACK AND WHITE PICTURES IS MY WEAKNESS

[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

[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

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling - Chapter 1

Synopsis:

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.

Author’s Note:

I’ve never written anything before, though I’ve always had stories in my head. Seeing all the Caught Stealing set content this week finally pushed me to get something down. I’ve combined the original two parts I posted earlier into one updated story, adding in some details I couldn’t leave out!

Word Count: 8,712

Masterlist

The truth is, I don’t really know what possessed me to walk into Paul’s tonight. I’m not the kind of person who normally does things like this—spontaneous, bold, risky. That’s never been me. Or at least, it hasn’t been me in a long time.

There was a time when I was more comfortable in my own skin, when my shyness didn’t feel like a weight. It used to be a part of me, something I accepted, something I lived with rather than fought against. I could be quiet and still feel confident, blending into the background but never doubting my worth. But somewhere along the way, that shifted. The quiet I once enjoyed now feels stifling. I’m constantly second-guessing myself, overthinking every little action, every word I say, as if there’s some invisible audience keeping score.

The world feels too loud, too fast, and I feel too small in it.

Lately, the silence of my own company has become less of a comfort and more of a reminder. A reminder that I’m stuck. That life is moving forward, and I’m standing still, watching everyone else go on without me. I can’t even remember the last time I did something that made me feel...alive. Not just existing from one day to the next but really feeling like I’m part of something—part of the world instead of just a spectator.

Tonight, it feels like I’ve reached some invisible limit. I can’t take another evening of staring at the same four walls, of flicking through channels without really watching, of pretending I’m okay with the monotony. Work drained me, as it always does, leaving me too exhausted to think but somehow too restless to sleep. My mind feels like it’s stuck in a loop, clogged with the same old worries that circle endlessly, without resolution. They’re small things—most of them, at least—but they pile up, weighing me down until I can barely breathe under their collective pressure.

Normally, I’d push through it, fall back into my routine because that’s what I do. I know the safe route; I’ve perfected it over time. But tonight, the routine felt unbearable. The thought of going home, of slipping back into the same old patterns—it made my chest tighten with the kind of dread I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t that I had a plan, not really. I just knew I couldn’t face another night of nothingness.

So instead of walking home like I always do, I took a different path, literally. One foot in front of the other, the sidewalk unfamiliar beneath me as I moved further away from everything that felt safe and known. It wasn’t intentional, not at first. But the farther I walked, the more it felt like I was being pulled—by something I couldn’t name, some need inside me that I’ve been trying to ignore for too long.

And that’s how I ended up here, standing in front of Paul’s, the bar I’ve passed countless times but never once considered entering. It’s not my kind of place. Never has been. It’s gritty, loud, with an edge that feels too rough for someone like me. The kind of bar where everyone seems to know each other, where conversations are shared over sticky countertops and half-drunk glasses of whiskey. The regulars here probably have stories they’ve told a hundred times, stories about the kind of life I don’t live—the kind of life I always thought I didn’t want.

But maybe tonight, I don’t want to be the kind of person who always plays it safe, who blends into the background without ever leaving a mark. Maybe tonight, I need to be someone else. Someone who isn’t so afraid to take up space. Someone who doesn’t spend hours dissecting every interaction, every conversation, until the memory of it feels more like a mistake than a moment.

I step inside, and immediately, the atmosphere hits me like a wave. The smell of cigarette smoke clings to the air, mixing with the sharp scent of alcohol and something else I can’t quite place. It’s dimly lit, the kind of place where shadows linger in the corners, and the faces blur together unless you’re really looking. There’s a hum of conversation, the low murmur of voices blending with the occasional burst of laughter, creating a background noise that fills the space without overpowering it.

I don’t know why, but the second I cross the threshold, I feel the weight of the room shift. Not in any obvious way. It’s not like anyone stops what they’re doing to look at me—most people are too engrossed in their own lives, their own stories. But I feel it. I feel different, like I’ve stepped out of my usual world and into something unfamiliar, something that makes my nerves buzz just beneath the surface of my skin.

For a brief moment, I want to turn around, to leave before anyone even notices I’m here. That familiar urge to retreat, to go back to what I know, bubbles up inside me, threatening to overwhelm the tentative boldness that brought me here in the first place. But I don’t leave. I take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then force myself to stay. To move further into the bar, even though every part of me is screaming to turn back.

I make my way toward the bar, my steps feeling both too loud and too quiet at the same time. My eyes flick around, taking in the crowd, but not really seeing anyone. I feel exposed, out of place, but at the same time, there’s a strange comfort in knowing that no one is really paying attention to me. I can be invisible here if I want to be—and that’s fine. I’m not here to be noticed. I don’t need anyone to see me.

I just need a break—from my own head, from the endless loop of thoughts and worries that seem to follow me wherever I go. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find here, or if I’m even looking for anything at all. All I know is that tonight, I couldn’t go home. I needed to be somewhere different, somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere that wasn’t the same quiet, predictable space where my thoughts would close in on me again.

That’s when I see him.

He was positioned behind the bar, leaning casually against the counter with an ease that suggested he was in his element, practically part of the furniture. His blonde hair, tousled and slightly unkempt, peeked out from under a well-worn baseball cap, pulled down just enough to give him a hint of mystery, shadowing his piercing blue eyes. Those eyes caught mine with an intensity that felt almost tangible, sharp and probing, as if he could peel back the layers of anyone who happened to fall under his gaze.

For a brief moment, the thought of diverting my eyes flitted through my mind, a reflex to escape the unexpected vulnerability I felt under his scrutiny. But I didn’t look away. Instead, our eyes locked, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face—a smile that seemed to see right through to the nerves I was trying so hard to mask. He held my gaze for a beat too long, creating a moment charged with an unspoken challenge before he turned his attention back to the drinks he was pouring.

A stir of something unfamiliar fluttered inside me—a cocktail of nerves, curiosity, and an exhilarating sense of daring. This wasn't typically me; I was not one to flirt openly, especially with bartenders, nor to sit alone boldly in such a buzzing place. But tonight was different. Tonight, I felt drawn to the unknown, compelled to explore whatever this could lead to.

As I approached the bar, each step seemed amplified, my awareness heightened as if every movement was a statement of intent. I slid onto a stool, feeling the coolness of the leather through my jeans, and my presence seemed to draw his attention once more. The bottles behind him caught the soft lighting of the bar, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the polished surface. The room was steeped in the smells of smoke and aged wood, enriched with a hint of something musky, almost intoxicating.

He glanced up as I settled in, his earlier smile returning, expectant, as if he had anticipated the challenge I was about to present.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, his voice a rough blend of warmth and rasp, perfectly echoing the raw, ambient energy of the bar.

Under normal circumstances, I’d have a standard order ready, something simple and unassuming, designed to blend in rather than stand out. But tonight, driven by a newfound audacity, I hesitated, meeting his gaze squarely. “Whatever you recommend,” I ventured, my voice more steady than I felt.

His eyebrow arched, clearly amused by my response, and his smirk widened, adding a playful edge to his already compelling demeanour. “You trust me to pick for you?”

I nodded, the gesture firm despite the fluttering in my stomach. “Yeah. Surprise me.”

He chuckled, a low sound that seemed to resonate with a hint of respect, or perhaps challenge. Shaking his head as if in disbelief at my daring, he reached for a bottle. “Alright, you asked for it.”

Watching him work was like observing a skilled artist; each movement was fluid and assured. He selected ingredients with precision, mixing them with a practiced hand that spoke of years behind the bar. As he prepared the drink, I found myself stealing glances, drawn to the confident way he navigated his domain.

He slid the drink across the bar with a smooth motion, and when his fingers brushed mine, a spark of electricity zipped through me, startling and vivid.

“Here you go,” he said, his tone light, that easy grin playing on his lips again. “Let me know what you think.”

I took a tentative sip, and the drink was a revelation—smooth with an undercurrent of complexity that mirrored the night itself. It warmed me, loosening the edges of my anxiety, coaxing a sense of openness I hadn’t felt upon walking in.

“Not bad,” I replied, my own smile a reflection of his, a silent acknowledgment of the small adventure I had embarked upon.

His eyes studied me, a flicker of intrigue passing through them. “Good to know,” he said, his voice tinged with a subtle warmth. He momentarily excused himself to attend to another customer, his movements efficient and practiced as he refilled a drink without missing a beat.

As he worked, the familiar atmosphere of the bar wrapped around us—a comfortable hum of background chatter mingled with the clink of glasses and the occasional cheer from patrons watching the baseball game on the television above. Adjusting his cap, he made his way back to where I was sitting, his approach marked by an easy, confident smile that seemed to pull the dim light of the bar towards him.

Normally, I’d be tongue-tied, fumbling for words, but here, with him, it felt different.

“So, you come here often?” I asked, aiming for light-hearted but cringing a bit at the cliché.

He chuckled, a light, engaging sound that drew a grin from me. “I guess you could say that. I work here most nights. Name’s Hank, by the way,” he introduced himself, extending a hand across the bar.

Hank. It suited him perfectly—strong, straightforward, with just the right amount of rugged charm.

“I’m—” I began, ready to offer my own name, but just then, a regular at the end of the bar caught Hank’s attention, loudly requesting help with the jukebox that was stubbornly refusing to accept their money. Hank shot me a quick, conspiratorial smile that promised he’d return, and then he was off, his stride confident as he navigated the crowded space.

I watched him as he worked, noting the way his shoulders rolled with each movement, the casual confidence in his stride. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew the eye and held it. It wasn’t just his looks—though those certainly didn’t hurt—it was the way he seemed so completely at ease in his environment, as if he were as much a fixture of the bar as the shelves of liquor behind him.

As he adjusted the jukebox, his eyes occasionally flicked to the small television mounted above the bar. The San Francisco Giants were playing, and it was clear from his intermittent nods and muttered comments to another patron that he was following the game.

When he returned, the noise level in the bar had dropped a bit, and he leaned in slightly to resume our conversation. “Big Giants fan?” I asked, gesturing towards his hat and the screen above us.

"Definitely," Hank said, his smile broadening. "I played a ton in high school back in California, but a bad leg break sidelined me for good. Now, I never miss a game, it helps keep the spirit alive."

“From baseball player to master mixologist,” I observed, noting the transition from his past interests to his current profession. “Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He let out a soft chuckle, a hint of irony flickering in his eyes. “Something like that,” he replied with a slight shrug. “Though life always has a few surprises up its sleeve, doesn’t it?”

As the evening unfolded, the bar had thinned out, not nearly as busy as when I first arrived, but still lively enough to keep Hank moving between customers. Between sharing a laugh, or tossing a rag over his shoulder with casual grace, his eyes would inevitably return, as though drawn by some unspoken pull. Each time he approached, it felt like we were continuing a conversation that had never really stopped, even if words weren’t always exchanged. It was more about his presence—the way he leaned in slightly, his focus making it seem like nothing else in the room mattered.

The warmth of the alcohol settled into me, quieting my usual reservations. It wasn’t enough to cloud my thoughts—I was still fully aware—but it gave me a newfound confidence. With each passing moment, the initial unease melted away, replaced by a comfortable rhythm between us.

“So, what brings you to Paul’s tonight? You don’t exactly blend in with the usual crowd here,” Hank inquired after a while, his tone casual but curious, his eyes searching mine for something deeper than the surface-level chit-chat.

I hesitated, the question more profound than I had anticipated sharing with a near-stranger. Yet, something about Hank’s straightforwardness, underscored by the honest curiosity in his eyes, made me want to open up.

I shrugged, glancing around. “Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. This isn’t exactly my usual kind of place.”

He chuckled, leaning against the bar, his blue eyes flicking up to the TV screen for a moment where the end credits of the game were rolling. “Yeah, I kind of figured. You’ve got that look—like you’re used to being somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else like… where?” I asked, curious what he saw in me.

He paused, his gaze momentarily drifting off as if visualising the answer, then locked back onto me with a reflective expression. “I dunno. A café, maybe? Somewhere quiet. You strike me as someone who appreciates peace.”

I smiled, touched by his perceptiveness. “You’re not wrong. I’m definitely more of a coffee shop girl than a bar regular.”

Hank’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned in a bit, resting his chin on his hand, studying me as if he was putting together a puzzle. “Let me guess,” he started, his voice lowering to a warm, playful tone, “you’ve got that favourite little corner spot, don’t you? Always tucked away with a book or maybe a notebook for doodling or jotting down your thoughts. And I bet you drink your coffee black, no distractions—just you and your thoughts.”

The accuracy of his assumptions made me burst into laughter, more open and genuine than I expected in such a setting. “Okay, you’re close,” I conceded, still chuckling. “But, I do take a little sugar with my coffee—just a touch to sweeten the deal.”

His laughter joined mine, creating a light, easy atmosphere that seemed to set the tone for whatever was to come. “Noted,” he said, with a mock-serious nod. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

The lighthearted moment briefly subsided as he posed a more thoughtful question, his tone lowering to a gentle, inviting rumble. “So, what’s got you stepping out of your coffee shop comfort zone tonight?”

Glancing down at my glass, the swirl of liquid momentarily mesmerising, I acknowledged the underlying current of vulnerability. Yet, there was an ease in Hank’s presence that coaxed the words from me more freely than I expected. “I don’t know... I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. Work’s been overwhelming, I guess I just needed a break from myself for a while. From the routine, the quiet. You ever feel that way?”

Hank’s response was a nod, his eyes softening with a deep understanding. “Yeah, more than you’d think.” Curiosity piqued, I found myself more drawn to him, seeing him not only in his role here but as someone who genuinely understood the struggles people go through. “What about you? You seem like the kind of guy who’s seen it all here. What keeps you coming back?”

“The people, I guess,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes meeting mine again. “Everyone who walks in has their own story, their own reason for being here. I like that—it’s unpredictable. I can be part of the background or something more, depending on the night. Tonight feels different, though.”

“Different how?” I asked, my voice quieter now, the conversation shifting as his attention became more focused.

“Maybe it’s you,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “You stand out. You’re not trying to blend in, like most people who come in here to disappear for a bit.”

I felt a shiver run through me, even though his words were light. “I wasn’t really planning on standing out,” I admitted, my voice softer now, a little shy.

He folded his arms on the bar, leaning in just a touch closer. The subtle intimacy of the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

I felt my cheeks warm, surprised at how much I liked hearing that. “Yeah… me too,” I said, smiling just enough to let him know I meant it.

He smiled back, his voice dropping lower. “Sometimes, stepping into something unfamiliar is exactly what we need to remind ourselves what we’ve been missing.”

There was a brief pause, comfortable yet charged with an unspoken acknowledgment of the connection forming between us. “And what do you think I’ve been missing?”

He leaned in, closing the space between us. “Maybe something real. Something that pulls you out of the everyday.”

I held his gaze, my heart racing a little faster now. “Maybe I am.”

“Well,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “you’re not alone in that.”

The air between us thickened, charged with an undeniable pull. Even in the quiet, there was no mistaking the connection forming between us—raw, real, and electric.

The last patrons trickled out, and the bar lights dimmed slightly, signalling the end of the night. The soft glow cast shadows that only made the space feel more intimate. A slow, soulful tune from the jukebox filled the room, amplifying the closeness between us.

Hank leaned in a little more, his hands idly wiping down the already spotless counter, though his attention was fully on me. The air around us felt thick with unspoken anticipation, a magnetic pull that neither of us could ignore.

"You’ve definitely changed the vibe in here tonight," Hank murmured, his voice a low, warm rumble that seemed to match the mood of the room. “Doesn’t happen often.”

I felt a flush of heat rise to my cheeks but found myself leaning in too, letting the moment take over. "Is that your way of saying you hope I come back?" I asked, my tone playful, though beneath it, there was something bolder, something daring.

A slow smile spread across his face, one that made my pulse quicken. “I’m definitely saying that. You’ve made tonight... different. And I like it.”

The room felt smaller, as though it was just the two of us, the rest of the world fading into the background. Our eyes locked, the tension between us humming with an intensity that felt almost tangible. Neither of us moved to break it.

Hank leaned a little closer. There was a question forming on his lips, one that seemed to dance in his eyes as he paused, giving the moment the weight it deserved.

His gaze flicked to the back door, then back to me, and I could see the question in his eyes before he said it. “You wanna get out of here?” His voice was low, the words hanging in the air between us like a challenge.

The invitation was clear, laden with possibilities and the thrill of continuing whatever was unfolding between us outside the confines of the bar walls. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Normally, I would hesitate, tangled in self-doubt and over-analysis. But tonight felt different. It felt like a return to an older version of myself—I took a deep breath, embracing the liberating shift, and met Hank's gaze with a quiet nod.

"Yeah," I said softly, "I do."

Hank nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he moved towards the employees-only door at the far end of the bar. He gestured for me to come closer to where the bar ended, and I walked towards him, my heart pounding in my ears.

As I reached the end of the bar, I found myself separated from him by a pane of glass that partitioned off the employees’ area. Above Hank, the neon “BAR” sign bathed him in an ethereal glow, casting dramatic shadows across his features, highlighting the contours of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and the gentle curve of his full lips. He reached up to unlock the door from his side, his eyes locked on mine.

Our hands met through the glass, fingertips aligning in a moment charged with anticipation. The cool surface couldn’t lessen the warmth that radiated from his touch. With a soft click, he swung the door open, diminishing the barrier between us.

“After you,” he said, his voice low and inviting. I moved around the partition, stepping into his world behind the bar for the first time. There was an intimate thrill to being on his side, close enough to share his space.

Together, we walked towards the back of the bar, where a heavy door led to the alley outside. As Hank pushed it open the cool night air hit my skin, but it did little to cool the fire that had been burning between us all night. The alley behind the bar was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, but I barely noticed. All I could focus on was him—the way his broad shoulders moved, the way his hands flexed at his sides as if he was holding himself back.

We stopped just outside the door, and before I had time to second-guess myself, he turned to me, stepping in close. The space between us disappeared in an instant, and I felt his hand at my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, all I could do was look up into those mesmerising blue eyes, my heart pounding in my chest.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. His lips crashed against mine, urgent and hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this moment. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as his mouth moved against mine, and I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers instinctively finding their way to the base of his skull. His hair was soft, curling around my fingers as I tangled my hands in it, pulling him closer.

He let out a low, guttural sound, the kind of sound that sent shivers down my spine and made my knees weak. His hands slid up my back, his fingers digging into my skin as he pressed me against the brick wall behind us. The roughness of the wall was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, and I arched into him, wanting—needing—to be closer.

As he kissed me deeper, the sensation was overwhelming—like a storm that obliterates everything else, leaving only a beautiful, blissful blankness in its wake. It blew my mind how everything inside me cast into darkness, every worry dissolving in the heat of his touch. What a relief it was, not having to think anymore.

My hands stayed tangled in his hair, pulling him down harder as his lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jawline.

This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the shy, quiet girl who kept to herself, who avoided risks. But right now, with Hank’s body pressed against mine, his lips on my skin, I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel—alive, bold, free.

And I wasn’t about to stop.

His breath was hot against my skin as his lips moved lower, trailing down my neck, and I could feel every nerve in my body igniting. I tugged at his hair again, just enough to pull him back to my mouth, and when our lips met, the kiss was even more intense—desperate, as if we both knew this moment was everything we had been building up to all night.

I could feel his body press harder against mine, his hands roaming over my waist, my hips, pulling me even closer as though the small space between us was unbearable. My back hit the rough surface of the brick wall again, but the discomfort only heightened the sensation. The world outside the alley faded away—there were no more sounds from the bar, no distant cars, just the pounding of our hearts and the shared heat between us.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, and he rested his forehead against mine, his blue eyes searching my face in the dim light. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire.

I swallowed, my breath still catching in my throat. “I think I do,” I whispered back, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I thought I had you all figured out, but… you keep surprising me.”

“I’m surprising myself,” I admitted, my fingers still tangled in his hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath my touch. “But I like it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me fully, his gaze softening for a moment, as if he was trying to read me—trying to make sure I was still in control, still wanting this as much as he did. And I was. More than I’d ever imagined.

“What now?” His voice was a little quieter, a little less hurried, but still laced with that same intensity.

I didn’t need to think about it. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his again, this time slower, more deliberate, savouring the feel of him, the taste of his mouth. “I don’t want this to stop,” I whispered between kisses, my hands sliding down to grip his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held back.

He groaned softly against my lips, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “It doesn’t have to.”

The way he said it, so sure, made my heart race even faster. We were in an alley behind a bar, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing felt rushed or wrong. It felt like exactly where we were supposed to be. Like I had finally stepped into a part of myself I’d been avoiding for too long. And with him, it felt… right.

The intensity between us burned hotter, and soon, his hands were back on my waist, sliding under my shirt, his fingers grazing the skin there in a way that made me gasp. I could feel the roughness of the brick wall behind me, but all I could focus on was him—his touch, his breath, the way he seemed just as lost in this as I was.

But there was something else too, a sense of grounding I hadn’t expected. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t pushing. He was waiting, following my lead, giving me the space to feel, to take in every second of this. And I knew, in that moment, that whatever happened next, it was because we both wanted it. Because we were both ready for it.

And as the world around us continued to disappear, the night taking over, I knew that whatever came next—whether it lasted for just this night or beyond—it would be the best decision I’d ever made.

But then, as if sensing a shift in the moment, Hank’s lips stilled against mine. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. His fingers tightened on my waist as though he couldn’t bear to let me go for even a second, but his voice was softer now, more grounded. “We should get out of here.”

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his in the dim light. He was still close, so close, his blue eyes darker now, full of unspoken promise. “Yeah,” I breathed, my heart still racing. “We should.”

Without another word, he gently untangled us from the wall, his hand sliding into mine as he led me out of the alley. The sudden openness of the quiet street hit me all at once, the world outside the alley much brighter, sharper, but I barely registered it. All I could think about was the way Hank’s thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand as we walked, like he needed the physical connection to tether us to the moment. I held his hand tighter, feeling the warmth radiating through his palm, the steadiness in the way he held me.

We walked in silence for a minute, the intensity of the night lingering between us. There was no rush, no need for words right now—just the sound of our footsteps echoing softly in the quiet night. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him as we walked, at the way his jaw clenched and relaxed, his gaze still fixed ahead, but every now and then flicking back to me with that same heat that had burned between us all night.

With every step, the cool night seemed to draw us closer, the world fading until there was nothing but the warmth of his hand in mine. Finally, we reached his apartment. Hank fumbled with the keys for just a moment, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, betraying a mix of nerves and excitement. The lock clicked, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet hallway, and the door swung open, revealing the inviting glow of warm light inside.

He stepped aside, letting me walk in first, his hand still wrapped around mine. The apartment was simple but cozy, a space that felt lived in but not cluttered. Warm light spilled from a nearby lamp, casting a golden hue over dark wood furniture, soft blankets draped over a well-worn couch, and a guitar propped in the corner. The air was tinged with a scent that was both woodsy and intimately familiar—perhaps cedar, or simply the essence of Hank—enveloping me in a sense of deep, comforting familiarity.

As he shut the door behind us, the soft click of the lock seemed to seal us off from the rest of the world. The moment was heavy with anticipation, yet it carried a tenderness that made the space between us feel charged yet safe. I stood still, taking in the room, and felt his presence behind me. Turning slowly, I met his gaze—intense, dark, yet filled with a softness that drew me closer.

The electric connection that had sparked between us earlier was not only still present but had intensified in the privacy of his space. His eyes momentarily searched mine, a silent question lingering in their depths, ensuring I was truly there with him, in this moment. Reassured by my subtle nod, his familiar half-smile appeared, sending a rush of warmth through me.

He approached me, each step measured and unhurried. Reaching me, he raised his hand to gently cup my face, his thumb tenderly brushing my cheek in a touch that grounded and calmed me. His fingers wove through my hair, and a shiver ran down my spine as his thumb delicately traced my lower lip, the gesture so filled with intent and tenderness that my breath hitched in anticipation.

For a moment, we simply stood there, barely inches apart, the stillness of his apartment wrapping around us. Then, driven by playful curiosity, I reached up and gently tugged at the brim of his cap, pulling it off. His hair, tousled and soft, spilled over his forehead. The golden lamplight highlighted subtle waves, which caught the light as they fell free. I smiled and let the cap drop to the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to see you without this,” I teased, my fingers weaving through his hair, exploring its texture—thick and surprisingly soft, curling lightly against my fingers. He exhaled a soft sigh, a sound of relief or perhaps pleasure, his eyes deepening into a more intense hue as they locked with mine.

“It feels better already,” he murmured, the timbre of his voice low and inviting. His hands found their way to my waist, his touch firm yet gentle, anchoring me close to him as his gaze stayed fixed on mine, conveying a depth of feeling that went beyond mere attraction.

We kissed again, but this time it was different—slower, more deliberate, as if we were savouring every second. His hands roamed over my waist, tracing the curves of my hips before gliding up my back, each touch sending shivers cascading through me. I leaned into him, my body pressing closer, feeling the firm warmth of his chest against mine.

His lips left mine only to trail down to my neck, soft and warm as he planted a line of kisses from my jaw to my collarbone. My breath caught in my throat, a flush of heat sweeping over me as his hands slid under the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my lower back. I arched into him, wanting more of his touch, more of him.

But he maintained a tantalising pace, not rushing the moment. His hands explored with deliberation, exploring the contours of my body as if he wished to etch them into his memory. His touch was gentle yet assertive, guiding without pressuring, and I felt the attentiveness in every movement, ensuring I was fully present with him. My hands wandered across his chest, tracing the defined muscles beneath his shirt, revelling in how his body tensed responsively to my touch.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and in a quiet plea for more, I tugged gently at the hem of his shirt. He pulled back just enough to help me lift it over his head, tossing it to the side. The sight of him—shirtless, standing before me in the soft light—made my heart race even faster. His torso was sculpted and firm, his skin radiating warmth under my fingertips as I followed the lines of his muscles, feeling the slight tension there as if he, too, was holding back, letting the moment unfold slowly.

Hank’s hands slid up my sides, his fingers brushing over the fabric of my shirt as he slowly began to lift it. I raised my arms in silent consent, allowing him to pull the garment over my head. The cool air brushed against my skin, yet it paled in comparison to the fervour of his touch. His hands returned to the small of my back, drawing me in until our bodies aligned. I was now standing in just my bra and jeans, my bare skin pressing against his, the direct contact of our skin was electrifying.

His gaze swept over me, filled with a mixture of awe and desire, yet he maintained his deliberate pace. Leaning in, he kissed me tenderly, his hands rising along my back to trace the contours of my spine, finally pausing at the clasp of my bra. He hesitated, his breath warm against my ear, his voice a soft murmur, “Is this okay?”

I nodded, breathless, my hands running up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. “Yes.”

He smiled against my skin, his fingers deftly unhooking my bra before letting it fall to the floor. His hands were on me again in an instant, warm and firm, sliding up to cup my breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over my skin in slow, teasing circles.

Hank’s lips grazed my collarbone, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to the swell of my chest. His hands explored me with deliberate care, his touch sending waves of heat coursing through my body. When his mouth found my nipple, he teased it gently, the sensation sparking something deep and primal inside me. I let out a soft moan, my fingers tightening in his hair. “God, that feels amazing,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He let out a low groan as he lifted me with ease, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His hands tightened around my thighs, keeping me close, I could feel the hardness of his body pressing into mine, each step toward the bedroom intensifying my need for him, the heat between us nearly unbearable.

He laid me down gently on the bed, his body hovering over mine, his hands never leaving my skin. He kissed me again, slow and deep, as his hands moved down my sides, tracing the line of my ribs, my hips, before reaching the waistband of my jeans. His fingers lingered there for a moment, his touch light but full of promise.

My body ached for him, the need overwhelming now, and I reached up, my hands tugging at his belt. Hank’s breath hitched as I unfastened it, my fingers slowly working the buckle before moving to the button of his jeans. I eased the zipper down, each movement deliberate, and he quickly followed my lead, his fingers deftly undoing the button on mine. With one smooth motion, he eased both my jeans and underwear down. I sat up slightly, desire tightening in my core as I eagerly guided his jeans and boxers down. He groaned softly as I slid the fabric over his hips , and I couldn’t help but bite my lip, heat flooding through me as I took in the sight of him, feeling a mix of awe and raw need.

With nothing left between us, Hank moved closer, his weight slowly pressing down as he hovered above me, our bodies finally connecting. The sensation of his warmth and the solid press of his length against me was overwhelming, yet exactly what I craved. His lips found mine again, gentler this time, while his hands explored me with careful intention, as if he wanted to savour every moment and memorise every inch of me.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath, his hands still cupping my waist, his thumbs gently brushing over my skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with yearning.

I smiled up at him, my hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss. “So are you.”

It was intoxicating—he was intoxicating. And yet, as his hand slid down my side, I felt a flicker of something else. This isn’t me, I thought, not for the first time tonight. The quiet, careful girl who played it safe, who kept her feelings locked away, wouldn’t have ended up here. But with Hank—with him—everything felt different. It wasn’t just the heat between us or the way his touch made my body come alive. It was the way he looked at me, the way he saw me, like there was no one else in the world but us.

And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to let go.

His fingers traced lower, along the length of my thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. He kissed just beneath my ear, and I could feel the soft brush of his hair as he moved, his breath heavy but controlled. Hank’s hand moved between my legs, his fingers parting me gently, slick with my wetness, exploring with a careful but knowing touch. My breath caught, and I let out a soft moan, my body arching into him, craving more. I could feel the tension building inside me, every nerve alight with sensation, and the way he touched me—so deliberate, so focused—made the moment feel even more intense.

He lifted his head, his lips brushing against mine as he met my gaze, his blue eyes dark and full of need. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made my heart pound even harder—like he was asking for more than just permission. He was asking for trust.

And I gave it to him.

My hips shifted with his movements, my body instinctively responding as his fingers pressed deeper, working in rhythm with my rising need. His touch sent waves of heat through me, building toward a release I could feel just out of reach. His lips moved against mine, his breath ragged as he murmured my name, his voice thick with want. I could feel the urgency in every kiss, every movement, as he drew me closer to the edge.

This wasn’t me—this wasn’t who I normally was. I didn’t do this. I didn’t sleep with men I’d just met. I had always been cautious, reserved, taking my time before giving myself over to moments like this. But with Hank, none of that mattered. There was something different here—something raw and honest that made me let go in a way I never had before.

I wasn’t inexperienced, far from it. I knew what I wanted, and right now, I wanted him. It wasn’t the uncertainty of the newness that had me trembling beneath him; it was the way he made me feel like this was more than just the moment. It was the way he looked at me like he saw me—like I wasn’t just a passing encounter, but something real.

Without breaking our connection, Hank shifted, his mouth moving lower as his fingers continued their steady rhythm. My hands tangled in his hair as I guided him down, my body urging him on. Then his lips were on me, soft and insistent, sending another rush of pleasure through me. My hand moved to grip the sheets beside me as he sucked gently, amplifying the sensation while his fingers stayed firm, working me toward release. I gasped, my legs tightening around him, instinctively holding him there as I let go completely, my body giving in as the waves of pleasure crashed over me.

I’d never let go like this before—not with someone I’d just met. But right now, I wasn’t thinking about what was usual or expected. I was just thinking about him.

Breathless, I felt him move back up, laying the length of his body gently against mine. Before he could say anything, I pulled him into a slow, deep kiss, tasting the remnants of my release on his lips. When I finally pulled back, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough, filled with both satisfaction and unspoken need.

My heart raced, still buzzing from the release, and I breathed out a soft, teasing reply. “Not done yet,” I murmured, my lips brushing his jaw. The warmth of his skin against mine only fuelled the fire that hadn’t quite faded.

With a shift of my hips, I surprised both of us, rolling him over beneath me. Hank let out a low groan, his hands instinctively settling on my waist as I straddled him, my confidence growing as I took control. His eyes locked on mine, dark with hunger, and I could feel the rapid beat of his heart under my palms as I pressed them firmly to his chest.

“You like that?” I whispered, his answer was another groan, deeper this time, as his hands gripped my hips a little tighter. “You have no idea,” he growled, his voice full of want.

I leaned down, letting my lips barely graze his, keeping him just on the edge of what he craved, knowing I was the one in control now.

I hovered just above him, our breaths coming fast, feeling the heat radiating from his body, knowing he wanted more—needed more. But I held back, teasing him with the lightest brush of my lips, making him wait, making him want it as much as I did. His grip tightened on me, his fingers pressing into my skin as he resisted the urge to take control again.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

I smirked against his lips, revelling in the power I had over him in that moment. “Good,” I whispered, barely audible, before pressing my lips to his in a deep, languid kiss that made his whole body tense beneath me.

Hank groaned into my mouth as I moved my hips ever so slightly, teasing him with the smallest amount of friction. His body reacted immediately, his hands gripping my waist with a new urgency, but I wasn’t ready to give in just yet. I wanted to savour every second of this, every sound he made, every look in his eyes.

“Please,” he muttered against my lips, his voice hoarse, laced with desperation that sent a thrill through me.

I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the tension in his muscles. “I’m just getting started,” I teased, lowering my lips to his neck, letting my teeth gently graze the skin there, sending a shiver through him. The soft gasp that escaped his lips sent a thrill through me, and I knew I was in control now.

He let out a low growl, his control slipping just enough that I could feel the shift in his body, the tension coiling tighter, and it sent another rush of excitement through me. I rocked my hips again, this time giving him just a little more of what he wanted, and the sound he made—deep, desperate—was enough to make my pulse race.

He tried to move beneath me, but I pressed him back down, holding him there with just a look, my body hovering above his as I whispered, “Let me.”

His breath hitched, his hands stilling on my waist as he nodded, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but need. He was completely mine in that moment, and the feeling was electric.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, taking his entire length with one long, languid thrust. I began to move, letting the rhythm build between us, each motion deliberate, but this time, I wasn’t holding back. His hands tightened on my hips, guiding me as I set the pace, every sound he made spurring me on.

I didn’t think about anything except the feel of him. It was the not thinking I loved most, the not thinking that I never wanted to end.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, his voice almost reverent as his eyes met mine, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. “I can’t… get enough of you.”

The words sent a surge of heat through me, my movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as the tension between us spiralled higher. His hands roamed over my body, tracing every curve, every line, and I could feel the restraint slipping from both of us, the heat between us burning hotter with each passing second.

I leaned down, letting my lips capture his again, this time deeper, my tongue sliding against his, claiming him just as he claimed me. His hands gripped my hips tighter, matching my pace as the intensity grew, our bodies completely in sync, every breath, every movement pushing us closer to the edge.

“Hank,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as I rocked against him, my body trembling with the intensity of it all.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice raw and full of promise. And then, with a swift movement, he sat up, pulling me with him so I was still straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as his lips moved to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. I gasped as he left soft love bites along my collarbone and down the side of my neck, his breath hot against my skin, each kiss, each bite sending a new wave of heat through me.

I gripped the back of his neck, my fingers digging into his skin as I arched into him, every nerve alight with sensation as his mouth worked its way across my skin, leaving a trail of pleasure in its wake.

The tension between us spiralled higher, my release building fast as my body tightened around him, the pleasure growing more intense with each second. His lips stayed on my neck, hands gripping my hips as he urged me to move, guiding me to grind harder against him. That added pressure sent me over the edge, and with one final push, I shattered, the pleasure crashing over me in waves.

Hank’s name escaped my lips in a broken whisper as I came undone above him, my body shaking with the force of my release, wave after wave, my mind completely lost in him. I felt him follow soon after, his grip tightening on my hips as he buried his face in the curve of my neck, his breath ragged and hot against my skin as his own release overtook him. His body tensed beneath me, and I could feel the shudder that went through him as we rode the high together, leaving me breathless and trembling in his arms.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, our bodies tangled together, our breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as we slowly came down from the high. His lips brushed my collarbone once more, softer this time, tender, before he leaned back, his eyes meeting mine.

“You…” he started, his voice hoarse, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t have words.”

I smiled back, my own heart still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just from the intensity of the moment—it was from the way he looked at me, like I was something more. Something important. “Good,” I whispered, my voice just as raw, “I don’t need them.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hands slid up my back, pulling me close once again. I curled up against him, my head resting on his chest as our breaths slowly synced. I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath me, feel the warmth of his skin, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely at peace.

And as we sat there, tangled together, I knew that whatever this was—whatever we were—it was only just beginning.

Masterlist

[confessionbrain-writings]

Stairway to Heaven - Hank Thompson

Pairings: Hank Thompson x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smutty content, unprotected p in v

A/N: Just seeing Austin as Hank in Caught Stealing got me reeling already, I'm afraid I can't cope when the movie comes out. Anyway, I went feral by seeing this photo and I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's not exactly what I had in mind and it's definitely not perfect, but it's something. There will be mistakes, I quickly typed this out and am too tired to fix it, you've been warned. 🧡

Check my masterlist here

A deep, irritated sigh escaped your lips as you eyed the clock behind the bar. One hour. You’d been waiting one whole hour for your date, and he still wasn’t there. That motherfucker stood you up. 

The handsome bartender, Hank, noticed your sour mood. He swung the towel he was using to dry glasses over his shoulder and leaned casually against the bar. He crossed his arms and eyed the clock as well, giving you a knowing look.

“He still ain’t here, is he?” He asked, his voice deep and soft.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Clearly, I’m still here on my own, aren’t I? So, yeah. He ain’t here.”

A grin tugged at his lip at your sharp and bitter tone. “Shame to stand up a pretty girl like you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the asshole, ” you snapped and slurped the last bit of your drink before shoving it across the bar with more force than necessary.

He picked it up and placed it with the dirty dishes, before continuing with drying glasses. “I will. But you know… some people just don’t know a good thing when they have it. It’s his loss.”

“Ugh, I guess so.” You agreed and couldn’t stop the words from spilling over your lips, unable to control your frustration. “I’m mean, seriously. I even went to get my nails done, bought this new dress— hell, I even put on this uncomfortable but stunning heels!”

The build-up frustration made you stand up, while you continued your rant. “And for what? To sit here all by myself, sipping some mojitos looking like a loner and—“ a tearing feeling made you stop in your tracks and looked down at the back of your thigh.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You cursed upon eyeing the hole and growing ladder in your tights, caused by a chipped part of the barstool.

A chuckle made you look up. Hank eyed the tear and a smirk appeared upon his face.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, heat creeping into your cheeks.

“What’s funny,” he started, closing the distance so you could feel heat radiating from him, “is that you’re all dolled up for that asshole, but I’m the one getting a show.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his voice dropped an octave lower.

“And if I’m being honest, that ladder in your tights? Damn, it’s a stairway to heaven to me, and if you’ll let me, I’d gladly climb it.”

His words caught you off guard for a split second, the tension between you palpable and electric. Hank’s gaze changed and somehow your frustration transformed into anticipation, tension filling the air between you.

You leaned back so you could take a look at his face, checking if he was joking or not. The playful grin made way for a longing look, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. Your heart started to pound aggressively in your chest as you took a few shallow breaths.

“Well… maybe I’ll let you.” 

That was all the confirmation Hank needed. He made his way over and slung his arm over your shoulder, guiding you towards the back while he called to his co-worker Joe, to take over.

Before you knew it, you were cornered between shelves, carton boxes and crates. His broad hands roaming all over you, squeezing you at all the right places. Your heart-rate was skyrocketing, accompanied by your panting breath.

Your hands were trembling as you started to unbutton his shirt, and caught his eye, his usual blue eyes were now darkened with desire and it only fueled the building fire within you.

Without wasting another second he closed the distance and hungrily pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wild, sloppy and full of hunger. It felt like you were on fire, and your body was yearning. Yearning for him.

His hands roamed down your waist to your thighs, and a gasp left you when the sounds of ripping fabric filled the room. Hank had ripped your tights all the way up to a big hole, so your inner thighs and apex were kissed by the cool air of the storage room.

A hoarse laugh came from Hank. “Oh, you should see your face.”

You huffed back and started to unbutton his pants, quickly snaking your hand into his boxers to cup his growing bulge. His brows knitted together and a soft moan escaped him.

“You should see your face.” You countered as you started to stroke him. 

Hank answered with another huffed chuckle and grabbed your wrist, tugging at it sharply and turned you around, so your front was pressed against a shelf.

“Yeah? Well, let’s see your face when I’m done with you.”

Without wasting another second he flicked the skirt of your dress up, bending you roughly against the shelf so you were more exposed to him and pushed your thong to the side.

A squeak left you as you felt his hot breath against your throbbing core, quickly followed by a long and sensational stroke of his tongue which made your knees buckle. He leaned back and spat, spreading the saliva with his finger, teasing your entrance, which made you moan in pleasure.

Gosh, it felt like you were about to jump out of your skin and before you knew it, you begged him. “Please…just fuck me already.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He leaned back and made quick work of releasing his cock. A scraping noise of a crate being dragged across the floor made you look down, and watched how he had placed his foot on top of it, before lining himself up against your soaking entrance. His broad hands palmed your sides as he started to tilt his hips. 

He slowly filled you up, and the most sinful moan crawled its way out of your throat. You closed your eyes and reveled is the feeling of him stretching you open and filling you with his cock.

“Ah, fuck!” You moaned and pressed your hips back, eager to feel more of him. 

“So damn tight.” He groaned through clenched teeth and gripped your hips tighter. Slowly he started to thrust in and out. Your body starting to open up to him as he picked up his pace.

Moans and groans of pleasure started to escape the both of you. The building pleasure made you dig your nails into the wooden shelf as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

Hank praised you. Praising you on how amazing you felt and how you took him so well, causing goosebumps to break out all over your skin.

For fuck’s sake. This man was fucking you so good. So deliciously sinful and rough, it had nothing to do with making love, it was like a carnal need which both of you yearned for.

The shelf bucked against the wall with every hard thrust, causing some of the boxes with napkins and straws clatter onto the floor, but Hank didn’t care and neither did you. All what mattered was now, reveling in the pleasure the both of you experienced. 

One of Hank’s hands roamed over your thigh to the back of your knee, guiding it up onto the shelf so you were just standing on one leg, this way he created more access to enter your heavenly paradise. And goodness, this position made your body feel electric. 

Without losing a beat he kept on pounding into you like a madmen and you held on to the shelf for dear life. You felt how your heel was starting to slip from your foot and clattered to the floor, accompanying the other items from the shelf.

Hank started to grunt and his hips started to falter, him coming closer and closer to his release. His grip on your hips intensified and you were sure it would leave some bruises from how tight he held you. 

“Ah… mmmh.. fuck!” He cursed as he came. His thrust started to slow, creating a moment for the both of you to catch your panting breath. Your leg started to get a bit numb and you supported yourself onto your hands, turning your head to look at him.

His hair was tousled and a tiny drop of sweat adorned his brow, his lips were parted so his pants could escape. But his eyes were focused on the part where you still were connected. And he looked like… he looked like he was in a kind of haze, in a really good daydream, his expression filled with satisfaction. He lifted his gaze when he felt yours. A dazzling smile broke on his face as he shook his head. 

“You know,” he started and leaned forward, causing you to moan as he filled you once more. “I’m really glad I climbed those stairs, you know. Heaven is a place on earth, and it’s right there between your legs.”

His comment make you blush and you bit your lip. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled out and zipped himself up. He reached out for a napkin to clean you up.

“Meet me after my shift, so I can take you to my place.”

You shot him a questionable look. “Why would I do that?” “I can assure you, you won’t regret it. And even though I know you enjoyed this fuck, you didn’t come. So let me make that up to you and take you to heaven.“

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

[austinbutlerslovers]

Jealous

Label Mature 18+

Summary When Hank shows too much affection to his cat you become jealous, until he turns all his attention on you.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 teasing•jealously•Hank on his knees •oral on fem• slight praising•dirty talk•clit play•cum eating•countertop sex•simultaneous orgasm• protection•aftercare 🔗 Master List

🏆 Inspired by Hank on his knees/w a kitty via @umika @aust-een More Hank 🧢 🔗 After Hours 🔗 Kiss it Better

Jealous

Hank is stretched out on the couch, Bud curled up on his chest, purring contentedly. He absentmindedly scratches behind the cat’s ears, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You’ve gathered all of your things after spending the night and are ready to head to work. When he doesn’t realize you’re about to leave, you stand near the doorway, arms crossed, watching him play with the cat. 

He’s so absorbed in his little moment with Bud that when he still hasn’t noticed you standing there, it stings a little.

“You’re seriously going to ignore me leaving for a cat?” you ask, tilting your head.

Hank glances up at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You jealous of the cat?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as he runs his hand down Bud’s back, watching the cat arch as it purrs even louder.

You can’t help but feel a pang of longing inside as you watch his hands, the way his fingers curl slightly before scratching down the cat’s back in those long, soothing strokes and your thoughts slip out before you can stop them.

“Maybe I want some of that attention for myself,” you confess.

Hank raises an eye brow, his grin widening as he gently sets Bud aside.

He stands, closing the distance between you, his hands slipping around your waist as he leans in, his breath warm against your ear.

“Jealousy looks really good on you,” he whispers, his lips lowering against your neck trailing soft kisses.

“I didn’t realize I’d be competing with a cat,” you respond, your voice softer than intended as you try to keep the rising heat inside you at bay feeling his lips kissing along your neck.

Hank leans back slightly, eyes filled with mischief. “You’re way more fun to pet.” His teases his hands  sliding to your hips, pulling you firmly against him.

Your breath catches in your throat from his control as his lips return trailing enticingly down your neck.

“I don’t purr though,” you manage to say, your voice barely more than a whisper as you surrender completely to his touch. 

“Not yet,” he teases darkly as he leans back just enough to keep your gaze then he gets down on his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips guiding you closer.

His eyes never leaves yours as he he slides your panties down, his touch igniting a warmth that spreads quickly through your body as his hands slide up the backs of your legs his thumbs grazing over the sensitive skin of your thighs.

You let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to hold on to some form of control as you look down at him kneeling between your legs. His broad shoulders fill the space, his strong hands now gripping your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

In the back of your mind, you know you’re going to be late for work, and the thought barely takes hold before his mouth closes over your clit, making every rational thought disappear.

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit with maddening precision before he licks a slow teasing stripe up the inside of your pussy.

You bite back a moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, as your knees weaken, barely able to stay grounded under his touch. 

I’m going to be so fucking late, you think for a fleeting second, but the thought vanishes as his thumb presses against your clit, stroking in firm deliberate circles.

Your breath catches in your throat as you softly gasp trying to withstand the onslaught of pleasure.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and focused. Seeing the distraction in your gaze he starts working harder, his tongue moving in languid, agonizing strokes as his thumb keeps a steady pressure on your clit. 

The sensations build inside you like a wave you can’t control, stronger with each passing moment until you moan loudly the sound slipping from your lips before you can stop it.

Your thoughts dissolve into nothingness as your core tenses, the pleasure consuming every part of you until you are overwhelmed at how good he feels.

He pushes his tongue deeper, his mouth moaning against you in as his thumb works faster, and you lose yourself completely. 

The warmth of his mouth, the firm, pressure of his thumb, and the thrust of his tongue push past any resistance you had left and you surrender entirely, your mind going completely blank.

As you come, a soft moan escapes your lips, the pleasure rolling through you in waves as your body trembles against his face. 

He savors every second of your release, his mouth, and hands still working you through it until there’s nothing left for a moment as the world reduces to nothing but him.

His eyes look up to your face, a satisfied grin on his lips as he enjoys every second of the way you fall apart for him, completely lost in the intimacy he's created.

As you begin to come down from the high his mouth leaves you as he slowly rises to his feet.

You look up at him, your breaths still uneven as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gently pulling you toward him, and he presses his mouth onto yours letting you taste yourself on his lips.

It’s intoxicating and overwhelming as he kisses you deep and unhurried, his tongue sliding against yours, until you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“You taste so damn good,” he whispers against your lips, his voice low as he grins, the words sending another surge of heat through you. His hands move down your body as he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as his hips press against yours and you feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock.

You kiss him back with even more intensity, your body completely lost in your overwhelming desire for him. Your hands gripping his shoulders as each kiss becomes more demanding than the last until all that’s left is an all-consuming need to satisfy each other.

He walks you backward, his hands sliding up your back, until the sharp edge of the kitchen counter presses into you. The sudden contact breaks the kiss for a moment, both of you pausing as he looks down at you, his lips brushing yours as your breaths mingle.

“How’s that jealousy?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as his hands grip your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. 

“You said you don’t purr, either” he adds seductively, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands pull you to the edge of the counter. “But I can feel it… right here.” He whispers, his fingers tracing your wetness with delicate knowing strokes.

You moan in response, your legs tightening around his waist as the world outside falls away, his words and touch all that matters.

He keeps one hand firmly on your waist, his lips trailing slow heated kisses along your neck as his  other hand moves with purpose, digging through a nearby drawer until you feel him warmly exhale against your skin finding what he needs.

His hand comes up to your neck, gently guiding your lips to his, claiming them again deeply, as his other hand works to slide his condom on. 

His kiss grows even rougher, his breathing ragged, as both of his hands return to your neck. The anticipation between you building with every heartbeat, knowing he has a condom on, the need to have each fully consuming you both.

He pulls back from the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, the intensity of his eyes locking onto you as his shoulders rise and fall with each shallow breath. 

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice breathless as he awaits your answer.

His words send a flutter through you as a rush of heat spreads through your core, and it leaves you aching for him.

You can barely form the word as you look into his eyes feeling the intensity of the moment so overwhelming. 

“Yes… .” You finally nod in anticipation.

Your words are all he needs as his hands grip your hips, pulling you to the very edge of the counter. 

He presses his large tip against you and a low moan escapes your throat as his lips claim yours while you feel his hard demanding cock push into your entrance.

His hands firmly grip your waist as he begins each deep powerful thrust making you gasp. The rhythm is steady and fast, the intensity building as you find yourselves moving in perfect harmony. Your hands grip his shoulders and he responds by grabbing your thighs, his control slipping as his breathing becomes heavier, more erratic.

His sandy blonde hair falls slightly into his face, but you can see the dark, dilated pupils in his eyes, almost completely swallowing the blue, making his gaze look wild, possessive.

As he thrusts into you his cock twitches making you both gasp as his pace falters. 

His hips slow to a torturous pace, as he drags his cock almost completely out of you catching his breath.

 “Not yet” he says as he lets out a ragged breath. 

His grip tightens on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you firmly in place. 

“I’m dragging out every minute of this until you come for me,” he whispers, his voice laced with an almost dangerous intensity, his jaw tight, muscles flexing as he pushes his cock all the way inside of you again.

You moan in pleasure as his lips brush your neck and he quickens his pace, each thrust more intense and deliberate than the last, his chest pressing into yours as he grips your thighs tightly until your both moaning, desperate to come.

His hand slides between your thighs to your clit, your breath hitching as his thumb moves in sync with his thrusts, the sensation so overwhelming, you can’t stop the moans escaping your lips. 

His other hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer, holding you in place as he works your clit and thrust into you with relentless precision.

“You love how I’m fucking you?” he asks, his words perfectly timed with each thrust.

You weakly nod, unable to form words, barely holding on as he watches your reaction.

“Show me,” he whispers, his voice low and commanding, and he leans in his lips lightly brushing against yours as you gasp, the moans slipping from your lips uncontrollably as you begin to orgasm.

Just as you come, he captures your mouth in a deeply passionate kiss, swallowing every sound of your pleasure as his thumb works harder on your clit. His kiss is so powerful, it drives you to the edge of sanity.

The sensation crashes over you in waves, and all you can do is melt into him, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as you lose yourself entirely.

He slows his pace, guiding you through the aftermath, his hands caressing your thighs and waist as you tremble, your body softening.

The emotions swirling inside you are so strong, you try to calm yourself, but your heart continues to pound.

Your breath shaky as you rest your head on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you both savor the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“I—I have to go to work,” you finally whisper, the reality of the outside world creeping in as you sit up on the counter.

He smiles, staring into your eyes. “I know,” he says softly, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you back to him, his fingers threading through your hair as he brings you in for one last kiss. It’s slow, lingering, filled with unspoken desire that makes your heart ache.

The kiss says everything and neither of you want the moment to end.

You break away, reluctantly pulling back. His eyes remain locked on yours for just a second longer, filled with the same hesitation you feel. “I really need to go,” you say, though every part of you protests leaving him.

“I know,” he whispers again, this time with a hint of reluctance. He slowly pulls out of you and you feel the sudden emptiness, both physically and emotionally.

He steps back, his eyes trailing over you one last time as you get down from the counter. You quickly pull on your panties, and grab your purse, glancing over your shoulder as he buttons his pants. His expression soft, but his gaze intense.

“I’ll call you” he says with the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

“I'll be waiting” you respond but you pause at the door, your hand on the knob knowing the truth of what’s happening.

You quickly leave his apartment without looking back your heart racing with a whirlwind  of emotions. 

You hail a taxi and sit in the back seat, your mind still lost in the moment you just left.

Once at work, you settle in half an hour late and completely zone out. The world around you fading away as your mind drifts back to Hank—his voice, his, his touch, the way he satisfies you until you’re craving him all over again.  

Your core throbs at just the thought, heat pooling deep inside you as you bite your lip, trying to pull yourself back to the task at hand.

But it’s impossible to ignore the lingering sensation, theres an ache that he leaves behind.

Hank wasn’t supposed to mean anything—just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of indulgence. But he is so skilled, so perfectly attuned to your body, that now he’s all you can think about.

You slowly refocus on work only to find yourself absentmindedly tracing your lips, remembering the way he claims them, and you realize, that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to focus on anything else.

You bite your lip as the frustration sinks in knowing nothing will be enough until you have him again.

🧢 End ?🧢

🔗 Master List

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[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 ;)

[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:

[wwcross]

Danny never thought he'd be in this situation.

Fxck. He never thought he'll even raise a child! He sucked at that! He still remembered what happened at the Lancer's class 400 years ago! He only babysat he's nephews and nieces just time by time and it was only for some hours! ...also his great nephews and nieces. But that doesn't matter.

Danny looked at the boy he held in his arms. The tiny, skinny boy with red wing was holding on to his jumpsuit/hazmat suit tightly. Who would have thought having a visit to Japan would make him find abused child who needs help.

"Hey kid, it's okay. I promise. No one's gonna hurt you anymore. it's really okay."

Finally, finally the kid looked up at Danny. His yellow eyes looking straight at him.

And as Danny looked at the hope in the boy's eyes.. he knew he didn't have a choice.

Yep. He's a dad now.

[leviiackrman]

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

[TEMPLATE] || [MORE EDITS

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[bronx-bomber87]

Hello all! We forge onto episode 13 for s1. Super solid ep all around really enjoy this one.

1x13 Caught Stealing

I love whenever Chenford get a cold open. This one doesn't disappoint. After the last ep Tim needed a little fun. What’s more fun than messing with his rookie on her first night shift? Ah the night shift I can’t imagine with that job. Poor Lucy I feel tired just watching her in this scene. Girl needs her some caffeine.

The amount of sass he is throwing her way is hilarious. Being the tough ass T.O. with a little salty sass throw in for his enjoyment. He's definitely have a little fun with how damn tired she is. Poor Lucy is paying for not listening to his nap advice. Lucy see's a random guy in the street. We see them out out of the car because she insists she saw him. Lucy eventually follows this guy Tim doesn't see. Its very evident once she catches up to him this is a dream. She's awoken by laughter and mortified she's fallen asleep on her first midnight shift.

Tim is so pleased with himself she fell sleep. Not only that but he gets to have others in on it with him. Her ‘No No’ as he's laughing and taking pics too funny. Clearly enjoying his damn self haha Lucy didn’t listen to his advice and paid for it. He's not even mad as he's taking pics. He's bemused with her more than anything else. You can see it in his face. There is no anger there. He is very much enjoying giving her a hard time about this. (Work flirt part 1.)

Part 2 is the shirts he makes haha Lucy's face/reaction cracks me up. She's not even the least bit shocked he did this. Such a turd haha. Highly doubt Tim has ever messed with a rookie the way he does with Lucy. Just another work flirt between them. Whether he realizes he's doing it or not. She brings out a side of him rarely seen. His playful side it’s fun to see. Tim knows it’s going to bother her so naturally he does it haha

I'll say it again the absolute sass Tim has with her in this episode is unreal haha He's getting so comfortable with her its just pouring out. They report to a burglary at a fertility clinic. Lucy being Lucy has to question if its an abduction or burglary haha She has a fair point in what she’s asking LOL I do love her little notebook trying to take down everything she can. Absorb whatever knowledge Tim is gonna throw her way. Even when he's being surly with her she's always ready to learn regardless. They end up going to the apt of the woman who stole the eggs. The ex- wives are in the midst of a massive fight about them when they arrive.

Tim steps in immediately as their mediator. This scenario hits a little differently for Tim now. Also for the viewer as well. The way he handles this entire situation is masterful. If this isn’t his entire situation with Isabel in a moment idk what is. Just with the way he responds and de-escalates the whole situation. Using his past pain to do so. Now that he’s removed from it you can see the perspective he's gained since. How he uses it to relate to this woman's distress.

The way he’s talking this lady through her emotional crisis. My goodness. Gets me right in the feels. The reason she ends up listening is because she can hear in his voice he can relate. The tone he is taking with her is so sincere. I couldn't be prouder of him. The Tim that Lucy started with would be floored by the words coming out of his mouth right now. They hit so much differently as he calms the ex-wife down. You can hear the painful experience in his voice.

You can’t tell me Lucy’s words from 1x07 didn’t stick with him. The way she stopped him from this fate, from hating himself. Tim knew deep down he would've had he gone through with his plans. Lucy was there to stop him from doing that to himself. Tim is doing the same for this woman now. This is what growth looks like. Most people might think his growth is more apparent and doesn’t truly start till s2. Where we see Tim start to visibly soften for her, but it started the day he met Lucy Chen.

You can see the impact she’s had on his life. These are the moments that reflect that. How he's changed due to her presence in his life. That small crack in his rigid wall she started on day 1. How it continues to grow. S1 Tim is rough at the start but he is for a reason. It seems like this is a small scene in the ep as a whole if you’re not paying attention. But this scene is absolute growth for Tim. His character arc is primo and Lucy's role in it even more so.

It makes me smile how Tim impresses her with this line of thought. Lucy is genuinely impressed with his attitude about the domestic violence rule. He’s almost offended she seemed surprised haha I think he truly does want her to think highly of him. Tim might actually be slightly offended when she is 'surprised' by him with stuff like this. Where he finds her 'surprised' Lucy is actually expressing 'awe' for him.

We all know underneath that gruff exterior beats a soft puppy of a man. (Especially for her) I dare say Lucy’s attraction to him grows due to this comment he makes about the rule. She tries to rebound by saying he surprises her everyday hehe I know he does. His reply is so cute. They're so married and have no idea.

Tim’s gut reaction is to immediately defend Lucy. *heart clutch* Not only that but compliments her while doing so. Talia calls him out on his compliment. They both know he doesn’t hand those out ever. You can tell he's a little irked Talia has done so. He back tracks a little cause of it but not much. He doubles down on it still and says she’s smarter than this.

He knows her just as well she knows him at this point. Tim is very aware how sharp Lucy is. So if it was even slightly possible she did this would've it would've been executed better. He's almost offended they would attach her to such a poorly thought out plan. Ah if only Lucy could hear him singing her praises Her head would explode. Oh the growth in this ep for him is glorious.

That wraps it up for the Chenford portion of this ep.

Side Notes. Non Chenford

I LOVE how Angela brings Jackson down a peg in this ep. He was insufferable about the rules. Well until he ran into a fiery buzz saw that was Angela and never recovered haha I do appreciate him coming to her at the end and apologizing. Thanking her for never giving up on him. He wouldn’t be here without her and wouldn't let himself forget that again.

Also the beginning of BAMF Lucy where she holds her own against a slew of baddies solo. Then out smarts them by revealing what the guy did and how he stole the money. Love our girl. Like Tim said she’s smart. Too smart for his own good most days haha doesn’t need Nolan by time he gets there. Saves her own damn self.

As always I thank you all for you likes/comments/reblogs. Truly love the comments. Replying to them is one of my fav things. See you all in 1x14 :)

[m-oddinsdottir]

I just love when someone literally likes my one shot, copies my idea of said one shot and then writes theirs and it gets more likes than mine

tumblr recommended said one shot to me and is basically the same idea but with poor depth, cool, let’s just act like I didn’t spend days writing mine