munsonluhvr - Tumblr blog

munsonluhvr · 12 days

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Tattoo artist!Eddie x body piercer! Reader who have a shit ton of sexual tension ✨ I’ve been on a tattoo artist!Eddie pick lately ahah

TATTOOED ON MY HEART

a/n: omg wait is tattoo artist!Eddie actually a thing?? how am I just learning about this???? time to go down a rabbit hole LOL. hope u enjoy; hopefully this isn't *too* much smut then u were expecting...

contents: tattoo artist!eddie munson x body piercer!reader. with the arrival of a new tattoo artist, eddie munson, at your tattoo and piercing studio, it's clear that the two of you have intense chemistry.

If it wasn’t for the new tattoo artist, Eddie Munson, who sits off to your right on one of the tattoo tables, you probably wouldn’t have had to move the piercing dot which shows where you’ll piece the skin so many times. His gaze has a way of making you feel unnerved.

“What if it hurts?” Robin, your freckled friend who sits underneath your touch on one of the tables, whines. Robin frequently comes in to the studio to get something new pierced, shamelessly taking full advantage of the discount you give to your friend.

You blow out between your lips, frustration brewing inside you. You never have had to move the piercing location multiple times; you normally get it right on the first try. This isn’t the first time you’ve pierced Robin, let alone pierced anyone, it’s what you do for a career for god’s sake. The only thing that’s changed is Eddie’s presence, showing itself as the cause for your mess ups. You hold the fine tipped marker in one hand, staring at Robin’s earlobe. “It won’t hurt, Robin, but if you keep wiggling and I end up stabbing your neck with the needle then that will definitely hurt.”

Off to the side, Eddie laughs while shaking his head. “That’s one way to reassure your client.”

You roll your eyes, not needing his advice on how to pierce someone, a task he knows nothing about as a tattoo artist - your crafts are completely different with very little overlap.

“He’s right, that wasn’t very reassuring.” Robin mumbles, looking down at her hands that rest in her lap. With her thumb, she chips away at her already chipping blue nail polish.

You toss a look at Eddie, a scowl brewing on your face. Though, the harsh look softens when your eyes connect with his, his big, brown eyes looking back at you. He raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying.”

“Don’t you have some scary biker dude to go tattoo or something?” You retort playfully.

Eddie shrugs, a smirk on his face, making no attempt to leave. “Sure, a whole bunch of ‘em, but it’s awfully entertaining to watch you pierce.” He folds his hands in his lap, leaning back in his seat, his eyes trained on you.

Your stomach does a flip, your skin becoming flushed. You turn your attention back to Robin’s ear. You take a deep breath, steadying your hand to replace the dot on Robin’s earlobe. At last, you place the tip of the marker in a place that you feel satisfied with. You allow Robin to look at the new location, which she approves with a single nod. Taking the sterilized supplies, you line the piercing needle up with Robin's skin. "Take a deep breath and exhale on the count of 3."

Robin inhales, then exhales and after you count down, you take the opportunity to pierce the her skin with your needle. She tenses, hissing like a cat, then she relaxes. "How does it look?" she asks, glancing up at you.

You smile softly, stepping back to look. "Like I did an amazing job." Robin laughs, and lifts the mirror up to her face to get a look herself. You're too busy watching your friend admire your handy work, and she's too busy looking at herself, to notice that Eddie has approached you from behind, peering over your shoulder to get a look too.

"Amazing job, indeed." Eddie mumbles next to your ear. You jump slightly, an intense wave of heat creeping over your body. You clear your throat, side-stepping away from Eddie. You positively hate the way he makes you feel.

Robin glances up from her reflection, looking between you and Eddie. Her eyes meet yours and she raises her eyebrows, a questionable look on her face. You knew what she was thinking though: who is this guy?

After a minute, Eddie slinks off to another part of the studio, leaving you and Robin alone.

"Okay, are we going to talk about the obvious tension between you and that guy, or are we just going to ignore it?" Robin asks, cocking her head at you.

"His name is Eddie, and I'd rather not."

Robin groans softly, shaking her head. "It's obvious that he finds you attractive, y/n. And you aren't so slick with hiding your feelings either."

You frown. "What are you talking about? I don't like him, I barely know him. He's just the new tattoo artist for the studio."

Robin waves her hand in your direction. "Regardless, he's into you, since you can't tell that on your own." You roll your eyes, beginning to clean up your space. "Sure."

After Robin leaves the studio, quite pleased with her new piercing, you begin to close the shop. Eddie, who is finishing up a tattoo with one of his clients, still accompanies you in the studio. As another 30 minutes passes by, you sit in the back room, a magazine in your hand, as you wait for Eddie to finish. In the distance you hear the cash register beep, and the door bell jingle shortly after, signaling that Eddie's client is gone. Seconds later, Eddie enters through the back room's doorway.

The thing about Eddie is that he's gorgeous; tall, dark and handsome. The second the owner's of the studio introduced you to the new tattoo artist, you were smitten, though you were determined to not let Eddie catch on to that. Eddie, however, was a little more bold, in pretty much everything that he does. He's charismatic with the other piercers and tattoo artists that work alongside you both in the studio, and awfully friendly with his clients. His personality, coupled with his good looks, intimidated you and you find yourself sometimes shutting down in his presence.

"How'd the tattoo come out?" you ask nonchalantly, not looking up from your magazine. Your heart thumps against your chest, and you tell yourself to play it cool.

Eddie opens the fridge that's placed in the far left corner of the backroom, grabbing a glass bottle of coco-cola, and moves to sit across from you at the table. "Pretty good. He seemed happy with it which is all I can ask for as a tattoo artist." You hum, but say nothing else, simply flipping to the next page of your fashion magazine.

Silence takes over the break room and you find your mind wandering to what Robin said earlier: did Eddie really find you attractive? Curiosity takes over you, and you decide to test your friends theory. You bend your upper body forward over the table, leaning on your elbow, your chest on full view.

Eddie swallows, his eyes immediately diverting to your exposed chest. Similarly to you, Eddie found you attractive the second he met you, though when he attempts to flirt with you, he's met with sarcastic, playful banter. Nonetheless, he's committed to get to know you. He even believes you may like him too.

Eddie clears his throat. "Was that your friend you pierced today? You seemed to know each other more than just clients."

You nod. "We are very close friends. She appreciates the discount I give her so she comes to me for all her piercings." You glance up at Eddie through your eyelashes and are met with his gaze.

Eddie only nods, your eye-contact entrancing him. After a second, you look away, closing your magazine. "Well, I suppose we should close the studio. People tend to try and come in for a tattoo or piercing at the last minute if we don't make it look like we're closed."

You stand up, turning towards the sink that's in the break room as well, cleaning up some of the dishes and trash that has accumulated over the day and was left behind by the other employees of the studio.

Eddie, who's eyes are now trained on your backside, has the urge to test if his assumptions about you liking him are true. He's wanted to make a move on you for the longest time, so what's stopping him now?

Eddie stands up, moving around the table to stand beside you at the counter. Without asking, he jumps in to help, drying the dishes that you put on the rack to dry. There wasn't much cleaning to do to begin with, so with Eddie's help, the work is done quickly.

You angle your body towards Eddie. "Thanks for the help."

Eddie nods, a small smile on his face. "No problem." There's only a few inches between you and Eddie, and you can smell his cologne radiating off of him.

Without giving much thought, Eddie reaches out, his fingers working to brush strands of your hair away from the frame of your face, and tucking them behind your ear. "You're really pretty, you know that, right?"

You bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes diverting away from his gaze. In your lower abdomen, lust and attraction fills you fully, your heart beginning to thump against your chest again. "Thank you," you mutter.

Placing his finger up to your chin, he lifts your face and gaze to meet his. Instinctively, he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. You have no idea why, but as if he asked you to, you open your mouth, letting Eddie's thumb be engulfed by the wetness of your tongue and softness of your lips. His eyes widen, and he steps closer to you, closing the small gap that existed between you.

Time stops, allowing you to live only in Eddie's presence. He places his thumb on the thickness of your tongue, and you move your head back and then forward, letting his finger slide in and out with ease. Eddie's mind is filled with dirty thoughts about you on your knees, or legs spread wide open, your eyes locked on his.

You part your lips, letting Eddie's thumb slip out. He's quick to find another point of contact with you, cupping your face with his large hands, bringing your lips onto his. You sigh softly, the tension beginning to slip away. It's then that you realize how badly you've wanted this, how many times you pictured this very scenario while Eddie tattoos one of his clients in the booth next to yours.

Eddie's lets one of his hands wander down to between your legs and under your skirt, his fingertips grazing your cunt lightly over your panties. He wants so badly to just take you right there, against the backroom's sink or across the tabletop. But he refrains, wanting to take his time with you.

You sigh against his lips, your head leaning back in pleasure and anticipation. Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss the length of your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin lightly. You grasp on to his bicep, steadying yourself; his touch making you feel light-headed. Is this what you've been missing out on the entire time?

With his nimble fingers, Eddie moves your panties to the side revealing your slick pussy. His stomach twists at the feeling, realizing your wet because of him. Without a second thought, Eddie plunges his fingers into you and you part your legs further, letting him gain access easily. You shudder against his touch, the feeling of his fingers exploring you is euphoric.

You become breathless quickly, Eddie's rhythm working against your core making you sweaty and your knees wobble. Your moans become more frequent and louder, and you hope no potential customers enter the shop. "Fuck, that feels so good," is all you're able to say.

Your hips move back and forth against Eddie's touch, begging for more and more. Pleasure courses through your torso, your thighs beginning to tremble around Eddie's hand.

"I always thought that you may like me," Eddie mumbles, his lips dipping down to your collarbone. "I guess I was right." He curls his fingers in just the right way, stroking your most sensitive spot. Your mouth parts, and you reach behind you to grip the edge of the sink to keep your balance.

You screw your eyes shut, your breath becoming more rapid. Without you being aware, Eddie kneels in front of you, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Once you feel his lips and tongue on you, your hand darts down to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his hair.

Eddie's stomach twists; he wishes this this moment could go on forever. Eddie laps against you, each stroke of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. His tongue swirls, against your clit, a burning intensity growing in your lower abdomen. You whine, gripping the edge of the counter harder.

Eddie's hands travel up, holding your waist. One of your hands creeps down to your waist, your hand placing on top of his. You peer down at the same time that Eddie peers up, bringing your eye-contact together. His brown, puppy like eyes look up at you, sparkling against the dim lighting in the backroom.

Eddie pulls back away from you, his grip tightening around your waist. "Come for me," he says, moving back onto you.

Almost immediately, you finish, shuddering against Eddie's touch. You sigh heavily, the feeling of the pressure escaping your lower abdomen, bringing you relief. Eddie hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them up your legs as he stands up. Eddie, who is quite pleased with himself, wonders what his next move should be. He desperately wants to keep going, his cock still wondering what it would feel like to be buried in you, but he wants the tension between you and him to continue to grow. He wants nothing more than to make you wait, to pine for him until you need to crawl towards him, a burning desire to fill yourself with his cock.

You, however, are ready to go, your hands reaching towards the buckle on Eddie's jeans. Just as you begin to fumble with his belt, he grasps your hands in his.

You frown, wondering why he's stopped you. Doesn't he want you to touch him too? "I-I want to do you now," you say, your voice coming out low.

Eddie shakes his head, a daring look on his face. "Not now, not yet." His words leave you bewildered, wanting to ask a hundred questions. What does he mean, 'not yet'?

He steps forward, placing a light kiss on your cheek. You blink, wondering what is happening. "To be continued." He mutters, then slips out of the break room leaving you alone in the studio.

If there wasn't tension before, there's definitely tension now.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things

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munsonluhvr · 13 days

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blurb idea! friends to lovers!steve harrington finding out you make flower crowns when you babysit the kids, and him wanting one but also being macho still

FLOWER PRINCE

a/n: daww, this is such a cute idea. hope u enjoy <3

The warm breeze tickles your skin, the sun shining brightly down on the park that you sit at with Mike, Will, and Eleven. Off in the distance, Dustin and Lucas hang off the monkey-bars, screaming every so often. Beside you, your boyfriend Steve Harrington watches from the bench of the picnic table as you sit on the grass weaving the stems of flowers and strands of grass together intricately.

"What are you doing, y/n?" Steve asks, bending forward to look at your project in your hands. He glances over at Mike, Will, and Eleven who are scattered around the grass, plucking their own flowers.

"Making a flower crown," you say simply, glancing up at Steve. You hold your craft up to his eye sight. "I taught the kids how to make them and it's kind of our thing that we do every time we come to the park."

Eleven, who finishes her flower crown quickly, places hers on head, smiling with satisfaction. Will continues to work on his but Mike shakes his head as he weaves the stem of a flower together with grass strands. "This is such a girly thing to do."

Will shrugs. "I don't know, it's kind of fun."

You hum, smiling at Eleven and her crown. "You can go play with Dustin and Lucas, Mike. We won't be offended."

Mike looks from you to Eleven, his eyes lingering on her for a second, then looks back to his flower crown. "No, I'm good."

You turn your attention back to Steve. "Why don't you make one?" You lean against his legs, gesturing towards the ground. "Plenty of flowers for you to make one."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, what if someone from school comes by and sees. Mike is right, it's kind of... girly."

You roll your eyes; boys and their dedication to their masculinity. You decide then that the crown you're making is for Steve. Your nearly done, adding one last flower. You stand up from your seat on the grass, standing in front of him. Reaching out towards Steve, you place your little creation on the top of his head. "There," you say, pleased with your handy work. "Now you have your King Steve title back."

Steve smiles, realizing that you're giving him your crown to him. "I never lost it."

You laugh, moving to sit on his lap. His arms wrap around you, cradling you against him. You place a soft kiss on his cheek, then moving to lean against his upper body. "I don't know, Steve. You're baby sitting the kids with me while wearing a flower crown. I'd say you're a softie now."

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine

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munsonluhvr · 13 days

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part 4 will I ever stop making these? probably not.

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munsonluhvr · 16 days

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forbidden love (18+) - gator tillman x innocent!religious!reader | word count - 2.4k

ᡣ𐭩 part 1

The winter air bites at your bare arms, your flimsy pajamas offering you little to no warmth. Underneath your feet, the fresh snow crunches. You cross your arms across your chest, attempting to generate any warmth while you walk across your front yard, weaving between trees to stay hidden from the eyes of your father or neighbors. Your squint your eyes, scanning through the dark night for Gator’s work car. Across the street, tucked behind a row of balsam trees, you spy a dark car, headlights on, ‘Stark County Sherriff’s Department’ dashed across the length of the car in gold letters. Your heart skips a beat, the act of meeting up with Gator never failing to excite you. As quietly as you can, you sneak across the road in front of your house, looking both ways, then hurrying across to seek refuge in the warmth of Gator’s car.

For the last several weeks, Gator has been parking across the street from your house whenever he works an overnight shift, sending you a text message when he arrives. Sometimes Gator comes so late, and you’ve been asleep for hours, that you have to find it within yourself to wake up. Tonight, however, you were ready for him.

Outside, Gator texted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your phone’s screen flash awake on your bed stand. Within seconds, you type back with trembling fingers: Be right out

Despite your growing feelings for Gator, and the dying wish to be able to walk around with him in public, you were content with climbing out your bedroom window to spend time with him against your mother and father’s wishes. After your father had spotted you in Gator’s truck after church, he made you kneel on your living room’s hard floors for an hour, praying for forgiveness for your actions earlier that day. Afterwards, he made you promise to never go near Gator again, forbidding you from seeing him. At first, you intended to keep your promise, not wanting to make your parents lives more difficult. But vignettes of Gator’s fingers plunging in and out of you, his lips working against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone came to you in the quietness of your thoughts; you couldn’t help but find a way to see him again.

To be honest, sneaking around with Gator was kind of sexy to you. The excitement of waiting for the days of the week that Gator works overnights, for nighttime to come and eyeing your phone it the early hours of the morning for a magical text from him to pop-up on your screen. The aftermath was even better, though. Leaving his truck with your legs trembling, his cum dribbling down your legs, the buzz of the secrecy between you, the scent of him all over your skin following you back into your bed – all intoxicating.

Snaking around the back of Gator’s work car, you knock on the passenger window, causing Gator to look up from his phone. You watch in the frigid cold as Gator leans across the center console, popping the passenger door open for you. “Hi, baby,” he coos, ushering you into the warm car.

Without saying any words, you get into the car, instantly leaning over to connect your lips with Gator’s. His fingers find their way into your hair, bringing you closer to him. Catching himself by surprise, Gator moans softly against your mouth, the taste of your tongue, the feeling of your body pressed against him proving to be arousing.

Gator’s fast-growing feelings for you was perplexing to him. He has never felt so strongly about someone like this before, never having someone on his mind constantly, wondering where they are and what they’re up to. He knows with your father keeping a close eye on you, and him, there was surely an expiration date on your relationship. With that in mind, Gator is sure to embrace every moment with you, capturing your essence in a hypothetical bottle to hold him over until the next time he can see you.

You’ve grown bolder over the course of you and Gator’s meetups. Without hesitation, you climb over the center console to rest yourself on Gator’s lap. He gladly accepts your move, his large hands grasping your hips. Your lips reconnect with his, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip. In your lower abdomen, arousal burns, your skin becoming hot to the touch.

Gator’s hands travel underneath your thin t-shirt that you wear to bed, his hands cupping your bare body. He fumbles with you, his fingers dragging up and down your torso, his hands moving to cup your breasts. Just with the simplest touch from Gator, your body begins reacting, your bottom rolling against his crotch. You moan softly, the friction of his budge that grows in his pants rubbing against your pussy. With one hand, Gator pinches your nipple between his pointer and thumb. You groan against him, and he can tell you want to go further, but he refrains, intending to take his time with you.

With one swift movement, Gator pulls your t-shirt up and off, tossing the article of clothing on the passenger seat. He ducks down, his mouth attaching itself to your breast. Your arms loop around his neck, bringing your upper body closer to his. Your head tosses back, the feeling of his tongue working against your breast euphoric. In that moment, you feel like you fight the urge to merge yourself with Gator, becoming a part of him, him becoming a part of you.

You work to the best of your ability to tug Gator’s work jacket off, the radio that’s attached to his shoulder going off periodically, the other officer’s voices buzzing through. Letting go of your torse, Gator attempts to help you, leaning forward into you to pull his arms out of his sleeves. Underneath his jacket, he’s wearing a grey hoodie in an attempt to protect himself from the bitter, vicious winters of North Dakota. You whine gently, frustrated to be met with another barrier between you and the bareness of Gator’s skin. “Why do you have all this shit on?” you ask rhetorically, trying to lift his hoodie off next.

In response, Gator cups your face between his hands, bringing you nearly nose to nose with him. “Shh,” he says, the sound of his voice bringing you back down to sanity. God, you just wanted to feel him. He pushes his lips back into yours, his tongue working its way back into your mouth. You sigh, your hands snaking their way under his hoodie, the warmth of his bare skin, the light fluff of his chest hair greeting you.

The bulge in Gator’s pants presses against his boxers, his arousal growing more intense by the second. He doesn’t want you; he needs you.

Gator tugs at the waist band of your pajama pants, signaling to you that he wants them off. You’re happy to oblige, glancing down between his kisses to work around him and slip them off. You add your pants to the growing pile of clothing on the passenger seat. To Gator’s pleasure, your completely naked underneath your pants. As if you’ve answered Gator’s prayers, his wildest fantasies, you sit on top of him, your most sensitive parts of you on display for him.

Gator can’t hold back anymore as he catches sight of your glistening cunt, already slick with arousal for him. He works to unzip his pants in the tight space that remains between you two, and you lift yourself off of him, allowing him to pull his boxers and pants down to the middle of his thighs. With the swift movement, Gator’s cock springs out, already hard with anticipation. Since the last time he stopped by your house, which was nearly a week ago, all he could do was think about what he wanted to do to you the next time he was with you.

With no hesitation on your part, you lift yourself up and onto Gator, sinking down onto his cock slowly. You grip onto one of his shoulders, a guttural moan escaping from your throat. “Oh, god, Gator. You feel so good.”

Gator pinches his eyes shut, the feeling of you tighten around his cock, your arousal dripping onto his thighs causing him to nearly bust then and there. He grasps your hips, beginning to move you in the tempo he wanted you to move in. His heart thumps against his chest, his fingers trembling with pleasure. God, he could stay like this, hidden away behind trees, maneuvering in his cramped work car, you on his lap like a prize.

You let Gator use you, letting him guide you in the pace he wants. You lean forward, looping your arms around his shoulders. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, leaving soft, gentle kisses in your wake. You find warmth against him, absorbing as much of his body heat as you can. In your lower abdomen, where lust still blossoms, you can feel his cock working on you, making sure to provide you enough pleasure to make your legs shake until the sun rises.

Your fists clench and then unclench, not knowing what to do with the pleasure he gives you. You rock back and forth, moving up and down the length of Gator, sighing softly with every movement. You babble uncontrollably, words unable to form in your mouth. Gator moves his hands off your hips, one hand now resting on your thigh, the other reaching behind you to grab your ass cheek, pulling away ever so slightly to leave a small spank against the suppleness of your skin.

You jolt underneath his touch, biting down on your bottom lip to diminish the loud moan that threatens to spill out your throat.

“Tell me how much you love this,” Gator says, using his pointer finger to bring your gaze to his.

You open your mouth to speak but your voice doesn’t work, the only thing you can think about his Gator’s cock buried deep within you. You breathe in, a whine coming out in your exhale, as you try to find your words. “I-I love this so much, Gator. You feel so good.”

Though you wish you had the ability to say more, what you said is satisfactory for Gator. The sweet sound of your voice, nearly an angelic hum. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him, lifting his hips to meet your bottom. From underneath, he thrusts deep into you, feeling the please if your pussy clenching around him. Near his ear, you moan softly, losing your breath.

Gator can feel his breath become jagged, signaling that he’s coming close to the brink of finishing. He deepens his thrusts, pushing his length all the way into you. Your fist tightens around his shoulder, your eyes pinched shut. Within the next minute, Gator pushes himself into for the last time, filling you to the brim with his load. You gasp, feeling him begin to leak out around his cock, which is still inside of you.

You slump against him, your body exhausted. Your skin, despite the cold air seeping into the car, is slick with a light layer of sweat. You blink your eyes open, noticing the windows that are fogged up. Beneath you, Gator’s chest heaves up and down, as he gasps subtly for air. He’s already looking at you, pushing strands of hair out of your face, leaning forward to close the distance between you, placing several gentle kisses on your lips. “So pretty,” he mumbles. You smile softly, moving to sit back in the passenger seat, allowing Gator to zip his pants back up.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he mumbles, his eyes scanning your face. After a second, he looks away, towards his lap to zip his pants. Inside your chest, your heart aches, wishing he didn’t have to leave either. “I know,” you say softly, beginning to put your pajamas back on.

“You’re sure I shouldn’t talk to your dad and show him that I’m not actually a bad guy?”

You shake your head, tossing Gator a glance. “No. Not yet at least.” He sighs, shaking his head. All he wants to be able to do is walk around Lehigh with you proudly. Gator feels awful coming to your house at night, fucking you, and then leaving. He wants to show you that you mean something to him beyond sex.

Once you’re clothed, you slip your slippers back onto your feet. You look back at Gator who looks deep in thought.

“Maybe I could call you tomorrow? Just to say hey.” Gator asks, trying to figure out how to make do with the situation you’re in.

You nod, a small smile on your face. “Okay.” You know you should go back inside and place yourself in bed before your father wakes up for his shift in the morning. One good thing about Gator working nights is that he conveniently misses your father’s shift in the morning. “I should go,” you say, your voice coming out quiet.

Gator nods, a sad sort of smile on his face. “Okay.” He leans across the middle console, kissing you one last time. The kiss is warm and sweet, something that you’ll lay in your bed and think about until the sun peaks over the horizon. You take his hand in yours, giving it a soft squeeze before you open the passenger door, slinking off into the dark.

You bite your lip, blinking away emotion. You trudge across the street and across your yard. Thankfully, your bedroom is on the first floor, so you don’t have to do much climbing. You maneuver yourself back through your bedroom window and you notice that once your inside, Gator turns his car on, turning out from behind the trees. As you watch him pull out from across your house, he blinks his headlights, once, twice, and disappears down the road.

You sigh, standing by your window, willing Gator’s car to reappear. When you get too cold, you close your window, moving back towards your bed. You notice your phone blinking on your bedstand where you left it. You sit on the edge of your bed, staring down at the glowing screen in your lap.

Gator Tillman (1 unread message): miss u already

#gator tillman x you #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman #gator tillman fargo #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #fargo fx #gator tillman x fem!reader

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munsonluhvr · 17 days

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I’ll love u forever if u send me blurb requests for Steve, Eddie, or Gator 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 go, go go!!!

#send requests!#open call for requests!!#send me blurb ideas and i’ll whip em right up #anything and everything is possible #don’t be shyyyy #mwah <3

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munsonluhvr · 18 days

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it’s the condom on the bedside table for me 🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

A look inside Eddie’s trailer!

Perfect for writing and shifting purposes, ngl

#Eddie Munson was slinging it

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munsonluhvr · 18 days

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this is my favorite blog please put that fucker in a cardboard box on someone’s porch in the rain if you want to

the eddie distribution system strikes again

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munsonluhvr · 19 days

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puppy eyes v doe eyes

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munsonluhvr · 20 days

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the divine encounter (18+) - gator tillman x innocent!religious!reader | word count - 2.8k

ᡣ𐭩 part 2

It was in the middle of Sunday mass that Gator Tillman spotted you. You wore a too-short-for-church dress, a snug cardigan covering your upper half. Your hair bounced off your back each time you kneeled, stood up, and kneeled again to pray. You were utterly fascinating from behind, the bounce of your hair mesmerizing, the curve of your body mouth watering. When you turned to shake other church goers hands, following instructions from the priest to share thanks with the congregation, Gator caught sight of your face – angelic. Gator knew he had to have you.

“Back row of church,” Gator’s father, Roy, mutters under his breath. “All because you had to stare at yourself in the god-damn mirror and make us late for church. Now we have to stand in the back like some common folk.” Roy jabs the flesh of Gator’s ribs with his pointer and middle finger, digging into Gator’s skin until he wriggles away.

Gator only sighs softly in response, inaudible to his father’s ears. He lets his mind wander to plan what he’ll say to you, occupying his mind away from church’s tedious rituals and his father’s wrath. Quietly, he thanks himself for spending too long in the bathroom and making his family late for church: he never would have spotted you if they were sitting in the front row, like usual, and you were behind him.

Church finishes with the shake of the choirs tambourine and the high-pitched sound of Gator’s father singing proudly, his wife Karen squeaking along beside him. Gator only played along as religious to please his father; he always felt a million miles away from reality when he attends church with his father, step mother, and half-sisters.

Gator watches as you and your own family exit the pew, filing into the center aisle in the middle of church. The small congregation mingles throughout the confines of the church, the priest making his rounds too. You have your hands clasped in front of you, a small smile on your mouth as you greet people. You play the role of innocent, your hair tucked behind your ears, cheeks tinted pink, but Gator doesn’t buy it, not for one second.

Gator turns to tell his father that he’ll be right back, but he notices his father has already left the pew, annoyed with his son’s ogling at the rest of the churchgoers being social. Gator files out of the pew, joining his father and step mother who are gathered in a small group of community members, supporters of his father's. Off to the side, his half-sisters run up and down the steps outside that lead into the back of the church, squealing carelessly.

With his father occupied, surely for a few minutes, Gator takes the opportunity to approach you. You hang back from your family, eyes wandering to the stained-glass windows that line the walls of the church. How has he never noticed you before?

“You look bored,” Gator says, coming up from behind you. He startles you, watching your eyes widen when you turn, your gaze lifting to meet his eyes.

“Forgive me, but I don’t find church… stimulating.” You say, re-folding your hands in front of you. You lean against the end of a pew, angling your body towards Gator. You feel pleased, too, when you notice how Gator’s eyes trickle down your body, taking in the shape of your figure.

Gator chuckles softly, lifting his hands up. “I don’t either but don’t tell my father that.” He lets his body soften, not wanting to show you his sharp edges so soon.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you say, your voice a low hum. Silence lingers between you and Gator, only the sound of the rest of the church mingling filling the gap in your conversation.

Gator wipes his hand on his pants, then puts it out in front of you. “I’m Gator,” he says with assertiveness. “Gator Tillman.”

“Well, Gator, Gator Tillman; it’s nice to meet you.” You say teasingly. Already you were intrigued with Gator’s presence, feeling the urge to run your fingertips across the contours of his strikingly gorgeous face. “I’m y/n.”

Gator cracks a smile, amused with your sense of humor. Gator had grown tired of the girls in Lehigh; bored of their lack of ambition, their inability to be sexually curious. All they did was lay on their backs, legs parted, letting him use their bodies to please himself. Sure, Gator liked the ability to blow off some steam, take time off to do something other than be yelled at by his father or hunt down law-breaking citizens. But he had grown empty and hollow; he wanted something more, something different.

“Are you new to Lehigh? I don’t think I recognize you and I know everyone in this town.” Gator asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

You nod, leaning forward to gently tug down your dress. As you lean forward, the fabric of your dress puckers, allowing for a clear view into the top of your dress. Gator gulps as he catches the sight of your bra-lessness, and the gold cross necklace that rests on your chest, sparkling against the low-lit lights in the church. You straighten your posture, pretending to be oblivious to the stunt you just pulled. A flip of excitement forms in your lower abdomen. “Brand new. My dad was just transferred to the police department here.”

Gator raises his eyebrows, attempting to ignore the way his chest thumped against his ribs, the bulge he could feel beginning to grow in his pants. “That’s wild, my dad is the police chief in Lehigh.”

You coo, crossing your arms against your chest. “I knew your last name sounded familiar. So, you’re the bad-boy they told me to stay away from.”

Gator frowns now, disappointed that you have already been warned against interacting with him. You sense his demeanor change and you’re quick to do damage control. “I’m kidding. Plus, I don’t listen to my parents anyway.”

Gator bites at his bottom lip, feeling the need to slip his leather jacket off, the heat of the church becoming overbearing. “Do you want to have a smoke? They’re in my truck.”

You glance towards your parents who are enthralled in an animated conversation with the priest, obviously occupied and unlikely to notice if you disappear for a few minutes. “Sure.”

The weather outside is frigid, winter approaching at a fast pace. Your bare skin puckers against the cold air, goosebumps forming on your thighs. You follow closely behind Gator as you make your way to his truck. It’s an older model, a deep blue, or is it a dark brown? He opens the passenger side door for you, closing it gently once you’re sitting in the seat. Gator walks around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. He imagines turning the car on, driving you back to his home, fucking you endlessly until you couldn’t walk – but sitting beside you in his car to smoke would have to do for now.

Gator leans across your body, fumbling with the glove compartment. The small door drops open, a pile of colorful, empty vape cartridges rattle inside. Gator inches closer, allowing the strong scent of his cologne to radiate off of him. Your eyes flutter, suddenly feeling an intense hunger for Gator in your abdomen. You shift in your seat, allowing Gator to access the glove compartment.

Gator grasps the vape he had been using before he went into church, and hands it to you to use first. In all honesty, you had never smoked or vaped before. Nonetheless, you took the vape from Gator, grasping the neon green cartridge in your hand, bringing it to your lips and then inhaling. The faux smoke fills your lungs, and you cough, eyebrows knitted in disgust as a light watermelon taste fills your throat. You hold your hand out, returning the item back to Gator.

Gator laughs, watching you cough. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

You shake your head, attempting to smack away the flavor from your mouth. “No.”

Gator leans against his seat, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress that creeps higher and higher on your thighs with each movement you make. Sitting there in his passenger seat, an innocence radiating off of you that he’s convinced is for show makes him wonder how old you are. “How old are you anyway?”

You blow out between your lips, staring straight forward, knowing there is no use in attempting to make yourself older – you will always look young and innocent. “Nineteen.”

Gator whistles, taking a hit from his neon green vape. “We got a young one right here.”

You give Gator a please don’t look which only makes Gator laugh. “I’m just messin’ with you. It’s not like anyone would call the cops. Hell, I am the cops.” You smile, wishing Gator would skip the playful banter and touch you.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask, choosing to be unaware that this question is random and forward.

Gator laughs again, shaking his head. Gator, in all his twenty-seven years of life, had never had a girlfriend; he wasn’t the dating type. Though, he doesn’t feel like admitting that to you. “No.”

You hum, satisfied. You were pent up, your sexual desires beginning to overrule your rationality. You were a good girl, under the watch over your overbearing, strict parents. You were to save your virginity for the man you marry, and because of that, and other temptations that teenagers face, your parents never let you out of their sight. In your old hometown, the boys were similar to trolls, making it easy to stay celibate. Now, however, sitting beside Gator who’s a man, his wandering eye making it obvious that he was attracted to you, you were no longer convinced your virginity belongs to your future husband – it belongs to Gator Tillman. It doesn’t matter to you that you have just met Gator; God may work in mysterious ways, but sexual desire works even more mysteriously.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Gator hears himself ask. His stomach grumbles in anticipation for your answer. He’s pleased when you shake your head no; mostly he’s pleased he doesn’t have to fight another guy to have you for himself.

“You’re awfully pretty, you know.” Gator says, his hand reaching out to brush his fingertips across your bare and exposed thighs. The feeling of his skin brushing against yours makes your skin shiver, your core tighten with lust.

“So are you,” you say, you’re voice coming out lower then you anticipated. Your fingertips toy with the hem of your dress, trying to restrain yourself from your temptations. It’s no use though, your desires overcome your attempts to control yourself.

You lean across the center console of Gator’s truck, holding on to the side of the driver’s seat chair. You break Gator’s personal bubble, though he’s not complaining, and push your lips into his. Gator his quick to let his fingertips intertwine in your hair, bringing you closer to his body. With one hand, he cradles your face, with the other he places on your hip. You sigh softly against his mouth, the taste of his tongue and the flavor of his vape infiltrating your lips.

Gator’s heart thumps against his chest, your proposition catching him off guard. The feeling of your small body pressed against his, your mouth working in unison with his - he is sure he has entered through gates of heaven. Moving his hand from your hip, he grasps your forearm, pulling you onto his lap. You make stealthy movements to navigate yourself onto his lap, yet in the process your rear end brushes against the horn, causing you to jolt in surprise. You laugh softly against Gator’s mouth, and you can feel a smile forming on his.

Now placed comfortably on Gator’s lap, your legs straddling him, you cup his face with both of your hands, deepening your kiss. Gator groans softly, and you can feel him growing hard against your bare legs. Oh, how you want him so bad.

Acting on impulse, Gator lets his hand wander down the length of your body, his fingertips brushing against your panties. You flush feeling his hand against your most sensitive part, wishing you had picked out more grown-up panties that aren’t so frilly.

The feeling of Gator inching closer to touching you begins to make your nerves fray, your head spin. This is the farthest you’ve ever gone with someone; what will Gator think of your lack of experience?

Gator is in his own world, unaware of how your body has tensed the second he put his fingers against your panties. He toys with the edge of your underwear, building up the tension before he plunges his digits inside of you. He has a dying ache to know how you’d feel around his fingers, let alone his cock. With one swift movement, he pushes your panties aside, his fingers finding their way into you with ease. Gator can’t help but smile when you gasp sharply, your lips parting from his. Gator moves his fingers in and out of you rhythmically, moans babbling out of you uncontrollably.

“Such a good girl,” Gator mumbles, feeling how wet you are beneath your panties. Your arousal dribbles down your thighs, down his forearms. He wonders how you taste, how it would feel to have your thighs wrapped around his head.

You feel your body relax as soon Gator’s fingers enter you, and you feel your body respond to the pleasure by rolling your hips against his hand. You hold onto his shoulders, your head leaning back in bliss. Gator takes the opportunity to kiss the front of your throat, and down your chest, maneuvering around the gold cross that rests against your chest. ‘Lord forgive me,’ he thinks to himself. Gator’s mind flips to all the other ways he could pleasure you, putting the back seats in his truck to good use.

You are both in your own world together, not noticing that the rest of the church is beginning to file out the front and side of the building. Your eyes have fluttered shut in pleasure, cracking open occasionally to make eye contact with Gator. It’s then that you notice the side door of the church opening and elderly people begin to exit. You gasp loudly, causing Gator to come back to reality. The bulge in his pants aches, his arousal growing stronger.

“Oh no,” you squeak, climbing off of Gator’s lap. Your cunt feels empty without his long and nimble fingers filling you. You want to know what he cock feels like, how large he is; you just know he’s big. You curse in your mind, hoping that you’ll get a second chance to find out soon.

Gator looks in front of him, letting you get off his lap. His eyes grow wide when he sees his father, still deep in conversation, round the front corner of the church. His heart stops, however, when he sees your father standing in the distance, eyes trained on his truck. “Shit, there’s your dad.”

You look up, your skin beginning to crawl. You quickly re-adjust your clothes and open the passenger door. “I-I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around, Gator.” You offer a small, flushed smile. You feel like you must look stupid, wide-eyed; surely he could sense your inexperience, right? Unbeknownst to you, all Gator can think about is how beautiful you are, the way your blush creeps across the bridge of your nose, the way your eyes glitter against the sun. Gator can’t wait until the next time he can get his hands on you.

“Hi daddy,” you say, quickening your pace to reach your father. Just in his body language, you can tell you and Gator weren’t so slick in hiding your activities together. Your father had made it very clear that you were to stay away from Gator Tillman. “That boy is trouble, y/n, and so is his father. We must not get wrapped up in their wrongdoings.” Your father had said when you first moved to Lehigh, his words firm.

“Princess, what were you doing in Gator’s car?” Your father asks, his suspicions clear on his face. He knew from the second he met Gator that he was trouble, the rest of the police squad confirming his assumptions. Seeing you in Gator’s truck, so smitten so quickly, he knows you and he will be trouble if left alone together.

“We were just praying together, daddy.” You hum, innocently. Your father’s eyes linger on you, his eyebrows knitting together further and further until the creases on his forehead begin to show. He takes in your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, your disheveled dress-straps. He looks until he can’t take it anymore.

“Say a rosary as soon as you get home.” Your father grumbles, turning around on his heel, hoping the grace of the Lord can guide you in a better direction. You nod, following close behind him silently.

As you follow your father towards your family’s car, you glance over your shoulder, catching Gator’s eyes one last time.

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