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spookysteddie · 4 months

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Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.

You.

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.

…

You were right.

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.

Nothing.

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”

You sniffle, “is it just your face?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.

“P-please. Gator please.”

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”

It’s all you need to fall into bliss.

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 5 months

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Badge Bunny

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Getting pulled over by one of Stark Counties finest turns into anything but a routine traffic stop.

Word count: 3.3K

18+ MDNI! Go on, get!

Warnings: Porn with a smidge of plot. Allusion to cheating (but not really!). Degradation. Oral (male receiving). Throat fucking. Spitting. Choking. Breeding kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Note: Thank you @starksbabie for keeping me motivated and constantly feeding the already rampant Gator thots! This one is for you you bb!

Badge Bunny Masterlist

Making your way down the familiar stretch of highway you weren't paying attention to any of your surroundings, only looking forward to getting home after a long night.

Headlights cutting through the dark, deserted fields on either side of the small 2 lane road. Nothing went on this time of night.

You hadn't noticed passing the familiar truck parked a little off the road in the gravel alcove.

Humming along with the radio lost in your own little world the sudden bright blue lights behind you hit your eyes from the reflection in the rearview.

“Shit,” you hissed, but wasted no time pulling over on the shoulder, rolling down the window as you came to a stop.

You watched through the side mirror. He slowly exits his truck as if he had all the time in the world. Adjusting his pants and belt before making his way toward you.

You noted he was missing his vest and usual hat. Black shirt tight across his chest and abdomen. His thigh holster was exactly where it always was, an accessory he was almost never without.

He sidled up to the window. Leaning down, so he could see your face.

“Evening, license and registration.” You couldn't roll your eyes any harder.

“Gator, I really need to get home. What's your problem this time?”

“Hey now, that's no way to speak to a deputy.” He tapped the badge strapped to his hip. Black gloves still adorn his hands. Pity. He did have nice hands.

“Sorry officer, where are my manners? What seems to be the problem tonight?” You put on your best innocent sounding voice, biting your lip as you looked up to him.

“Well, looks like you were going over the speed limit. Wanna step out of the vehicle for me?” his hard ass attitude on full display.

“Gator, seriously?” You deadpanned and rolled your eyes, but he didn't budge staring down his nose at you, maintaining his authoritative demeanor.

“Come on…out.” Patting the side of the door for emphasis.

Quickly realizing it was no use, huffing as he stepped back to make room for you to exit the car.

He whistles low. Appraising your bare legs in the skirt you wore for work. Waitressing at the local bar has its perks. Nice tips for a little skin.

It didn't help that your tits were pushed up practically spilling out of your top. The only sensible part of your outfit was the converse sneakers to battle any fatigue from running around all night.

“And where are you off to dressed like that? Your boyfriend let ya’ out of the house like this?” His eyes drifting down and back up.

Closing the door, and leaning against the side of the car he inches closer as he spoke. Looking up at him from under your lashes growing more unamused by the second.

“My boyfriend doesn't mind at all, especially when I bring home nice tips. We both know if anyone in this town looks at me wrong he'd kill’m.”

“Is that so pretty girl? Well, he's not here is he?” Making a show to look around at the deserted surroundings, smirking back at you. “Go ahead and turn around for me.”

You scoff. “Gator, is this absolutely necessary? I may have been going 5 over the limit.”

“Afraid so. Have t’make sure you don't have any weapons. Hands on the side of the vehicle. Go ahead.” Nodding toward the car.

You huff again but finally relent. Turning around slowly, placing your hands palm down; you'd been through this before, you knew the routine.

He stalked his way up to you. Anticipation already prickling your skin. Your panties growing damp.

His chest close enough to your back that you could feel the heat radiating from him even through your shirt.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear when he spoke.

“If that boyfriend isn't going to put you in your place I guess I'll have to. And the way you've been sassing me, little girl, I've got my hands full t’night.”

He pulled back, removing his gloves one by one, throwing them in front of you on the top of the hood.

Placing his hands on your hips, he moved his thigh close behind you as he kicked your feet apart.

“Gator, come on. I don't have time for this tonight.”

He didn't say anything, instead lifting his hands higher on your body. Resting on your breasts, squeezing slightly, as your breath hitched.

He smirked to himself. Slowly dropping his hands down your body. Across your stomach. Down your hips. Traveling the expanse of your thighs to the bottom of your skirt. He paused, pinky grazing the bare skin there that sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He dropped past your skirt. Drawing a hand up your inner thigh as you shuddered.

Up, up, up slowly.

His finger grazed the now sopping fabric. You bit back a moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he pressed slightly into your folds, pushing harder when he reached your clit.

“Haven't even fuckin’ touched you and you're soaked. Fuck” he hissed as he moved back up to your hips, quickly turning you easily to face him.

Your hands landing on his chest to keep you steady. He pinched your chin between his thumb and fingers to force you to look up at him.

“Get on your knees.” he ordered.

You easily complied. Hands sliding down his body for purchase as you slid. Your knees hit the asphalt. Wincing as its harsh terrain dug into your knees.

“Good girl.” the words going straight to your core.

As always a glutton for punishment and adoring any praise he would send your way.

Your mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him. Without being told you popped the button on his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down.

“Fuck, look at you. Can't wait to get my cock in your mouth, huh? Been thinking about it all day?”

He could be a mouthy bastard but God was he right.

You licked your lips at the already prominent tent in his boxers. Pants falling just below his bulge that you palmed. He hissed, throwing his head back at the sudden contact.

Your fingers grazed the band of his underwear pulling it just a bit, just to let it go as it snapped back into place. His head turned back down to you. Eyes blown full of lust, irises no longer on display.

“Go on. It's not gonna suck itself.” He nodded, urging you to keep going.

Your hands pull down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. Cock springing free, teasingly so. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. He easily was the biggest you'd ever had the pleasure of handling and the cocky bastard knows it.

Long and thick. Tip flushed the prettiest shade of pink with a small bead of precum just beginning to spill from his slit.

You timidly placed your hand around the base as if you hadn't done it dozens of times before. He was hot and heavy in your palm.

“Mmmmmm…. Fuck.” He sounded as if he was ready to combust on the spot.

Wasting no time, you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his shaft from base to tip as you heard him let out a low moan. He braced himself, placing his hands where yours had been planted moments before on the side of your car.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue just the way he liked, eliciting a whine from him.

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned. “Been thinking about this mouth and throat all fucking day.”

You continued teasing the tip letting your hand pump his neglected shaft. You finally sank down, tip nudging the back of your throat.

“Mmmmmm… Goddamn.”

You pulled off of him with a loud pop.

“Better not let your daddy hear that Gator.” You smirked to yourself. “Taking the Lord's name in vain. Especially while your dick is getting sucked.” You tsked.

He weaved his fingers through your hair and gripped the back of your head, forcing you back to look at him. You winced at the sudden sting.

“Still fucking sassing me? My cock not enough to shut you up?” He gave you no time to respond.

“Open.”

You obediently obliged, sticking your tongue out and flattening it to accommodate him, letting your eyes fall shut.

Instead of his cock, spit hits the back of your throat. A look of shock passes your features as you look up at him under hooded eyes before a shy smile adorns your face.

“Fucking whore. Swallow.” He practically growled.

You close your lips and obey, a low hum of satisfaction escaping you as you swallow thickly.

Watching your little display intently, he pumped his length a few times with his free hand, before gripping the base tapping your already swollen lips.

Your lips part as his tip beaches the heat of your awaiting mouth. He quickly feeds you as much of his cock that you can manage.

He doesn't give you time to adjust as he plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat. You try to breathe through your nose, letting him use you as he pleases.

He steadies the hold on your head as he licks his lips.

“That's it. Good fucking girl. Take it. I know you can.”

You allow him to fuck your throat. You knew it would be sore in the morning from the relentless punches over and over.

Your eyes were watering from the abuse, mascara running down your cheeks. You can feel saliva running down your chin.

You knew how you must look but he was looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful site he's ever seen.

You timidly moved your hand up, reaching the edge of his boxers forcing them down even further. You wrapped your hand around his velvety sack weight heavy in your palm before tugging slightly.

“Oh fuck.” His hips snapped, bucking into you even further as you gagged around his cock.

He stopped suddenly, sliding his length from you. String of saliva momentarily connecting from your lips to his tip.

“Get up and get in the back of the truck.”

“But…” you were going to argue but the look in his eye told you he was done playing.

“Now.”

You quickly shuffled to your feet as he half covered himself to follow behind you.

He knew this late at night, there wasn't any chance of someone coming by spotting the two of you in such compromising positions but just to be on the safe side he reached into your car to kill the ignition.

He did the same with his. Bright blues fading into darkness. Undoing and removing his holster placing it in the front seat, so it wouldn't get in the way for what he intended to do next.

You opened the back door and slid yourself up into the cab. Legs dangling in the open doorway awaiting his next instruction.

He came into view, slowly slotting himself in-between your thighs. Your skirt riding up to expose more of yourself. The way your damp panties were sticking to your folds, suddenly made you grateful for the dim light.

His hands came to rest on the top of your thighs, squeezing. Thumbs rubbing soothingly in contrast to the way he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Lay back and take those panties off f’me.”

You rucked your skirt up higher above your hips putting your clothed core on full display for him. They were his favorite. Pink and lacy with a little white bow on the top, just like a little present all for him.

He palmed himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath.

There were no formalities when seeing him like this. It was hot and needy. Quick and dirty.

You raised your hips, sliding your underwear down your thighs. When you made it past your knees, he slid them the rest of the way. Fingertips grazing your skin on the way down. You didn't miss the way he tucked them away for safekeeping in his pocket.

You parted your legs as far as they would go with the limited space.

“Look at you. Who's got you like this huh? Some trash at the bar make you this wet?”

You shook your head. “No baby, it's you. Always you.”

You place your fingers through his belt loops, dragging him a little closer.

“Greedy little whore tonight.” He laughs out, grinning at your eagerness. “Pull your shirt up and take those tits out.”

You do as you're told, pulling it up far enough to put your matching bra on display.

“You wear this hoping someone would see? Huh? Such a fuckin' little whore.”

He can see your already pert nipples through the transparent fabric. He cups both breasts before pulling the fabric down fully exposing you. Not wanting to take the time to properly undress you, latching his mouth to one laving his hot tongue across your bud before taking it between his teeth biting down slightly as you moan and arch into him.

His hand gave attention to the other, his large palm nearly covering the entirety of you before switching to do the same, so neither were neglected.

“Fuck, these tits are so perfect. And all mine.”

He nipped the skin, slowly moving down your sternum with hot opened mouth kisses as he finally sat back up. The cool air hitting the moisture left behind sending a small shiver through you.

His fingers began to trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the spot you yearn for him the most. A whine escapes you as he watches you squirm beneath him.

He runs his finger up your slit, lips slightly parting as he grazes your bundle of nerves that has your hips bucking on their own accord.

He slips a finger into your entrance with ease at how soaked you are.

“Of fuck,” your head lolls to the side.

“Jesus, this pussy always this needy?”

You just nodded as he removed his finger, making you whine, bringing it to his parted lips, sucking with an obnoxious slurp.

“Jesus, you always taste so fucking sweet.”

Growing impatient, you watch as he finally takes his aching cock back out from its confinements. Now an angry shade of red dons the tip, leaking another pearly bead from his slit. He was even harder than before if that was even possible.

He runs his tip through your folds, catching your clit. That had your back arching, gasping into the sensation.

“Yeah, that's it.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, breaching slightly. Nothing ever prepared you for the size, always a stretch no matter how many times he had fucked you.

It was something he relished in each time you were together. Knowing that no one else could fill you up like he could.

He pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth falling open. Toes curling in your shoes.

Once he reached the hilt, he quickly pulled out and snapped his hips back into yours. Punching the air from your lungs eliciting a moan so loud you were sure someone the next county over could hear.

“God you're so tight. I missed this pussy.” His face tightened with pleasure, mouth falling slack at the feeling of your walls practically strangling his cock.

There was no preamble as he sets a near brutal pace, fingers tight around your hips holding you in place sure to leave bruises in their wake. Punching little uh, uh, uhs from you with each upward thrust.

“That's it. That's fucking it. Who's pussy is this huh?” He growled down at you.

Too dazed to realize he had asked you a question, already cock drunk, he stopped mid thrust grabbing your jaw forcing you to look up at him, applying so much pressure your lips formed a small pout.

“I asked you a fucking question. Who's pussy is this?” He loosened his grip so you could answer as he began to piston his hips once more.

“Yours. It's…mmmm… fuck, all yours Gator.” you managed to squeak out as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the bundle of nerves.

He moved his other hand, tightening it around your throat, pinning you there as your own hands grasped his wrist and forearm.

He pounded into your sopping cunt. Eyes trained to where the two of you connected, watching as his fat cock moves in and out. Enamored with the way you took him so well.

His hard length ramming into that spot within you that only he could ever seem to find, over and over, as his assault on your clit never ceased.

He knew that look, your eyes closing in anticipation of tipping over the edge.

“Yeah? That it sweet thing? You gonna cum all over my dick?”

“Ahhhh,” is all you could respond. He loosened the grip on your throat slightly. He wanted to hear the noises he could pull from you.

“Come on, my little badge bunny, cum f’me. I want to feel her grip me.”

He removed his hand entirely, bending down close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. He braced himself trying not to completely crush you beneath him.

“Be a good girl and cum. I'll give her what she really wants. Fill her up nice so everyone knows who this pussy belongs to. Make your belly all full and round. Everyone in this fuckin' town’ll know who you belong to. You want that? I know you do.”

His mouth was good for one thing and the filthy words falling from his lips was all it took.

Your orgasm hit hard, the sparks behind your eyes were blinding. You didn't have time to warn him as your pussy clamped down pulsing around him, trying to milk him.

You found purchase gripping his shoulders, screaming his name as you came. Just the way he likes.

He stopped toying with your clit to chase his own release. He wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

He spilled into you with a loud groan and a string of words, coming out so fast you barely understood, “fuck iloveyou ilovethispussy gonnafuckin’knockyouup fuck fuck fuck.”

He continued a few more thrusts into your already overstimulated pussy before finally stilling.

He practically collapses on top of you. Face planted in between your neck and shoulder, he stays like for a few moments until he's breathing normally again.

He raised up, looking for any signs of distress from you.

“Sorry, you ok?” A sweeter tone to his voice, as he kissed your cheek.

“M’fine. You okay baby? Roy being a dick today?” You cooed, hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly there.

He saved these late night rendezvous for days he had a particularly hard day at work.

His usually slick backed hair was falling into his face, as he nodded. “Yeah, but I'm better now. Ready to get home?”

“Ready when you are, big boy.” You smiled deeply at him as his lips met yours.

It was a slow, needy kiss. His slightly chapped, wind bitten lips melted into yours as you pulled him closer. The tenderness a stark contrast to the way he fucked you moments before.

He pulled back, landing one more peck before raising up and letting himself slip from you. You winced, already missing the way he filled you.

He helped you into your panties muttering “don't want any of that going anywhere.” As you rolled your eyes. Thank God for birth control.

He took your hand and helped you from the truck, kissing your temple.

“See ya’ at home sweet thing.” Smacking your ass as you walked ahead of him to your car.

Yeah, Gator may have been a lot of things. A jerk, asshole, sometimes misogynist (which he was working on, thanks to you) but he only had eyes for you. His sweet girl.

And you were right about one thing. If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way he'd kill’m. God help the poor soul who got on the wrong side of your man on a bad day.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman Fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #joe keery #joe keery smut #gator tillman x you

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muldermuse · 5 months

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two sinners (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

ok so this is feral and I wrote it in a day bc I could feel it rotting away in my brain

Gator Tillman is a horrible guy and reader wants to get him back.

18+ only!!! Smut below. Smut includes piv sex, infidelity (pretty big thing), Gator is mean but so is reader, oral (f receiving), rimming (m receiving), slutshaming, mention of anal (f receiving), mention of cuffs used as restraints, brief nipple play, use of the word whore/slut, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink, stalking???. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

this could be a multi part fic. It was fun to write and I enjoy the dynamic so lemme know if u enjoyed!!!

He’s barely out of you by the time he says it this time. “That’s the last fuckin’ time I do this shit, we’re done”. He spits it at you like it’s acid on his tongue.

You’re lying on your bed completely naked as his come is slowly dripping out of you onto your linen. The first few times you’d done this, you put on fresh linen and lit a floral candle. He never appreciated it so you stopped. His statement would hurt you a lot more if this wasn’t becoming a regular occurrence. It’s become a routine; something it was never supposed to be.

He visits your home, fucks you however you want him to, makes you come as many times as he can, he feels guilt as soon as he finishes, he splashes cold water over his face in your en suite bathroom (leaves it in puddles across your tiled floor and organised surfaces) and then grabs his things and storms out. He’ll be back before the end of the week- he always is.

You’re getting tired of it. It should be harder now he has a girlfriend and you’re seeing a few guys from the local area. But it isn’t. You’re unsure why.

He tells you he hasn’t slept with Glenda yet. His daddy loves her, thinks she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen and he’s been vocal about his dislike of you. You think he’s a fucking idiot so you guess it’s good that the feeling is mutual. Gator can’t be with anyone his daddy doesn’t like, you’ve heard him brag about how he could get any gal he wants but you know it’s not true. You’re pretty sure that Gator knows that as well deep down.

You were sleeping together before he got with Glenda. Glenda is a church girl and his daddy’s protege. Roy sets them up and tells Gator he’s been blessed to have Glenda enter his life. Whereas, Roy thinks you have sin in your heart and you know that you do. You believe him that he hasn’t slept with her yet, if he does- it makes the whole relationship real. This is something that you know Gator is trying to avoid. His head is buried deep beneath the sand and he’s trying to find air holes to catch his breath before he suffocates.

You’re sleeping with other people, like Jax from the local store and Steve from the bar. Neither know about each other or about your Gator situation. Jax and Steve take you out on dates and fuck you in their cars and their homes. It’s passionate and sweet. It’s filled with promises and hope. Gator fucks you like he’s trying to get expel something deadly from his body. Gator’s a terrible person and you know that you are too. This is why you’re done with him, not for Glenda or Roy Tillman. Certainly not for Jax and Steve. You’re done because you want him to want you more than he ever has before. He’s an asshole and you want him more desperate than ever for you. You hear him spit in your sink as he comes back into the bedroom.

“You say this shit all the time Gator. What if I’m done with you huh?” You’re still naked and you can feel his cum drying on your inner thighs.

“You’re the one who always comes crawlin’ back to me remember? Jus’ a fuckin’ whore- that’s why I liked usin’ you though so don’t take it personal”. He giggles cruelly as he shrugs his jacket back on.

His words don’t hurt, a few months ago they would’ve made your stomach drop and tears prick in your eyes. But now? It just fuels you.

“Go back to Glenda, Gator”. That will hurt him. You never say her name, you only do it because that sentence is the equivalent of a scorching red hot poker branding his sensitive skin.

“Don’t say her fuckin’ name”. Anger flashes across his eyes. “I am so fuckin’ done with you and I mean it”. You want to laugh at how powerful he perceives his words to be.

“You say fuckin’ shit you don’t mean all the time Gator. It’s like breathing to you”. You wrap a bedsheet around you and get up to stand in front of him.

“That’s it then, you’re done with this right?” He nods. “I don’t wanna see your fuckin’ face or hear from you again. Don’t text me, don’t casually come into my work and don’t fuckin’ turn up here.

Get the fuck out of my fuckin’ house, Gator”

***

Two weeks pass with nothing. You can’t say you’re not impressed. He doesn’t glance at you when you see him on the street. He doesn’t call or text.

Glenda shares pictures on Facebook of the pair of them. She looks happy and he looks uncomfortable. You think that that sums up the entire relationship. You know he’s going to break and speak to you; it’s just waiting.

You carry on seeing Jax and Steve. Jax takes you to a drive in movie theatre and goes down on you on the backseat for the entire movie. He buys you your favourite candies and chips for the ride there and back. He makes you laugh and asks if you want to make it official- you tell him you don’t. He asks when he can see you again.

Steve takes you to a new steakhouse. He gets you a bottle of red wine and when you don’t like how your steak is cooked; he swaps your plates. You go back to his place and ride him on the couch in his living room. You spend the entire time thinking about how you couldn’t do this with Gator because he lives with his daddy. Before you leave, Steve gives you a necklace with your birthstone on. He tells you how much you mean to him, you thank him and drive home.

You don’t miss Gator. You don’t feel positively about him at all. You just like that he wants you and you like the power you hold over him. If you wanted to ruin his life you could. You could tell his daddy and Glenda that he loves fucking a sinner. That he’s fucked you in every possible way they could imagine and he loves it. You could tell them about how he’s been that pussydrunk on you; he’s told you he’s in love with you. Or maybe about how after you ate his ass on his daddy’s dining room table, he told you he wanted to run away with you and that he’d already looked into it and started storing money away. You didn’t say anything back to him, you just stored away these love drunk confessions so you could use them against him.

Gator Tillman is the worst guy you know.

And he makes you feel fucking powerful.

***

It takes 4 weeks in total for him to break.

[received on Monday at 04:32] Gator🐍💩: are u going to the church potluck on Saturday

[received on Monday at 10:12] Gator🐍💩: just bc u went last year, know it’s not ur scene tho.

[received on Monday at 15:05] Gator🐍💩: im goin with Glenda so just don’t want it to be awkward

[received at Tuesday at 01:54] Gator🐍💩: ?? Do you have a new number?

He calls you three times on Wednesday.

You ignore every text and every ring.

His patrol car is parked over the street from you on Thursday. He knows you leave for work at half 6 in the morning. You know you’ll see him again, probably during lunch as he is so fucking predictable. Every Thursday, you go for a bagel at a local deli because you love the mid week special. You can already picture his car parked outside there on the curb waiting for you. So you know it’s a great time to invite your new, very handsome, colleague called Jenson along. Jenson is new to the department and is a quarterback for a local team. He’s made his attraction to you pretty clear, he brings in a coffee for you every morning and has asked you out for drinks before.

You offer to drive Jenson to the deli and, of course, Gator’s car is parked out front. He sees you but you don’t look at him. You can feel his eyes burning into you and Jenson. You grip Jenson’s bicep and throw your head back in a giggle and something mediocrely funny that he said. As you get closer to Gator’s car, you politely smile at him and squeeze Jenson’s arm tighter.

[received on Thursday at 21:45] Gator🐍💩: Jenson Ackerley????? really??? that guys a fuckin asshold

[received on Thursday at 22:35] Gator🐍💩: *asshole

Instead of replying to Gator, you spend Thursday evening exchanging flirty texts with Jenson. You invite him to the Potluck on Sunday and ask if he wants to come back to your place for dessert.

***

He reaches new levels of desperation on Friday.

“Hi, it’s Joe on reception. I’m really sorry to disturb you on your lunch. I have Sheriff Tillman here and he just wants to come to your office if that’s okay?”

You’re sat alone preparing for the rest of your day when Joe’s call comes through. Jenson has finished early for the day and gave you a bouquet of flowers before he left. He smiled when he gave them to you and said he couldn’t wait to spend the day with you on Sunday.

You’re excited as well but for a different reason.

“Hi Joe, I’m sorry but can you tell Gator that I’m just having my lunch with Mr Ackerley so I don’t have time for a chat”

You can hear Gator speaking in the distance after Joe relays your message to him.

“He says it will only take a few minutes”

“Can you apologise for me Joe and tell him that Mr Ackerley and I will see him on Sunday at his Father’s potluck”

You hear Joe recite the message verbatim for Gator. Although you can’t see it, you can imagine the look of disgust on his face and it makes you grin.

You spend Friday evening texting Jenson and telling him in detail what you’re going to do when you get back to your home on Sunday. He asks if you want to ‘skip straight to dessert’ and miss the potluck. You tell him you can’t because you’re planning to see a friend. You don’t tell him who it is.

***

You wear an outfit you know Gator will love on Sunday. It’s a pale green flouncy dress which pushes your tits up and looks amazing. Your hair is half up half down and your make up is dewy with a strawberry scented lip gloss brushed over your lips. You text Jenson and ask him to bring an extra coat for you to wear because you’ll be cold. He doesn’t ask why you don’t just wear your own.

Jenson tells you how beautiful you look on your doorstep and he hands you another bouquet. It’s white peonies and he says it nearly matches your outfit. As you laugh at him, you pull his face to yours to kiss him. He drives to the potluck in his truck and you listen to a country album he’s been telling you about. You haven’t brought a meal but Jenson’s mom has made some pasta salad so you’ll pass that off as your own. His hand stays on your upper thigh the entire ride.

The first person you see at the potluck is Glenda. She looks great, you have to admit. Her blonde hair is in a tight bun sitting at the nape of her neck. Her dress is long, black and covers her body. A diamond crucifix hangs around her neck and you know that Roy made his son buy that for her as a token of his love for her.

You and Glenda don’t get on. You know she doesn’t suspect anything about you and Gator; her mind wouldn’t even dare think about it. You’ve known her since high school and you could lie and say that the only reason you don’t like her is because you existed in different social groups. It isn’t because of that. It’s because Glenda is a truly and fundamentally awful person. You recognised in your younger years that she enjoyed making people miserable. Shaming people about their relationships to god and judging everyone from afar.

She smiles politely at Jenson as he puts his hand on your lower back. She tries not to scowl at you as you hand her the dish of pasta salad. You know she thinks you look like a slut, she’ll definitely run to her friends and tell them about how disgraceful it is that you’ve come into a church community looking like a whore. You smile harder when you think about how Gator has fucked you in his patrol car whilst you wore this dress.

Jenson goes to the grand table in the centre of the hall. As he’s pouring a cup of punch for both of you, he gets accosted by two of Glenda’s friends who take their time complimenting him all the while smirking at you. You feel a presence next to you, you cross your arms to push your tits higher as you turn around.

“Oh, hi Roy, didn’t hear you sneakin’ up on me”. Your grin to him is saccharine and he snarls in response.

“I don’t remember invitin’ you to this, for the church community only. A community you are not part of so it’s time to go”. His voice is gruff and as you go to respond; you see Gator.

You make eye contact across the hall. He looked stressed and then as soon as he saw you; it flickered to what you can only imagine is rage. Glenda is talking away at him and he’s not looking at her. His eyes are trailing up and down your body. He recognises the dress. Jenson obscures your view as he stands in front of you holding out a cup of punch. He wraps his arm around you and whispers lowly in your ear that he’s spiked both of your cups with liquor from his flask. You giggle back at him, get on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

Although you think it would be hilarious, you want to avoid an interaction with you, Jenson, Glenda and Gator. At this point, you’re unsure if Gator’s heart could take it. Jenson gets pulled away by Glenda’s friends to help arrange the plates for the potluck dishes and of course he does it. He kisses you before he goes and as your lips touch; your eyes never leave Gator’s.

***

It takes twenty minutes for him to grab your wrist and pull you into an empty room. Everyone is too preoccupied with grabbing plates to notice you both leave.

“Real fuckin’ nice. Comin’ here dressed like a fuckin’ slut and can’t keep your fuckin’ hands off some shitty quarterback. You know what people think of you, right?” He’s in your face, the spit from his lips is hitting your mouth and cheeks.

He’s so mad.

And, of course, you fucking love it.

“Surprisingly Gator, I don’t give a fuck what your fuckin’ church girl or asshole daddy think of me…I know what you think about me though”. You move in closer to him and he doesn’t try to back away. His eyes bore into yours and you can hear him try to steady his breath. You can imagine his heart thundering away in his chest. You rest your hands on his vest and slowly unzip it.

“You think I’m a good girl. You’ve said it before- remember? You’ve said it when you fucked me in your patrol car…”

Your fingers move to unbutton his shirt.

“You whispered it to me when Glenda was downstairs and you had me on my knees sucking your cock in your daddy’s bathroom…she had no idea we were in there did she?” You giggle lightly as you feel his heart rate thumping quickly under your fingers.

“And you definitely thought I was a good girl that time you fucked my ass in your bed. Remember? We used the handcuffs, I think you called it me a few times…yeah you definitely did. You said I was such a good fucking girl”.

His shirt is half unbuttoned and his chest is basically heaving under the strain of his rapid heartbeat. You can feel his hard dick pressing into you, you smile at him and take a step back.

“I gotta go though, Jenson is probably waiting for me. We’ll probably shoot off soon, he said- he said, ha, that we’d have dessert back at my place. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get lucky tonight…he probably thinks I’m a good girl too. Maybe I can be his good girl from now on”.

He storms past you, his shoulder barging into yours on his way past and for a second, you’re devastated. Maybe you pushed him too far? Are you going to have to wait another four weeks for him to cave.

But he doesn’t leave.

He just locks the door and pushes a table against it as quietly as he can.

***

He grabs your hips and pulls them towards him.

“You fuckin’ feel that right? You feel how fuckin’ hard you make me. I’ve had this since I fuckin’ left your place four weeks ago. I fuckin’ hate you…I’ve fuckin’ missed you”. You’re not sure you would classify it as a kiss, it’s more like he’s shoving his face against yours.

He runs his hand through your hair and grips it; the power of it forces you to open your mouth. You stick your tongue out and give him your best doe eyes. He smirks and nibbles your jaw. Hard but not hard enough to leave any kind of mark. You maintain eye contact as he spits in your mouth. He raises his eyebrows at you and you swallow without objection. He smirks as you open your mouth and stick your tongue back out.

He kisses your neck and bites it lightly as you fight the urge to run your hands through his hair (Heaven forbid you mess up his slicked back hair).

“Baby, we gotta be quick. They might come lookin’ for us” he mumbles against your neck.

You go to bend over the table pushed against the door but Gator stops you before you can flip your dress up to grant him access.

“No baby, I need to see you. Missed your fuckin’ face too much…wanna watch you get e’en prettier when I make you come”

He kisses you hard as he pushes you down against the table. He gets on his knees in front of you like your pussy is a biblical experience. He kisses your clit through your lace underwear and gently nips it with his teeth.

“Gator, we don’t have time to tease” you try your hardest not to moan outwardly as you speak. You can’t let him know how much he’s affecting you, even though how wet he’s making you has completely given it away.

He rips your underwear off and pulls your tits out of your dress. He takes them between his hands and rolls your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You can hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t work out what he’s saying. He always gets transfixed with your boobs.

He doesn’t warn you as he notches his cock into you. You’re wet enough that he slides in with one motion. He’s on your mouth before there’s a chance for a moan to slip out. He thrusts into you slow and deep, he nudges your g spot and your eyes roll back into your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

The only sounds filling the room is the soft rhythmic creak of the wooden table, the steady thrusts of Gator’s cock into you and the stifled moans slipping into each others mouths. It’s all too much, the noises, Gator’s cock perfectly grazing your g spot, his tongue in your mouth and the thought that he’s doing this mere feet away from his daddy and girlfriend. Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and as you squeeze his cock, Gator puts his hand over your mouth and shushes you but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Your eyes roll into the back of his head as you hear him curse above you. This is the most intense sex you’ve ever had with him.

It is so worth the wait.

You know he’s getting close; he has obvious tells that you could recite perfectly. His left leg starts to twitch, his mouth slightly hangs open and his eyes glaze over. He also either gets sentimental or speaks like he’s in a shitty Brazzers porn video. This time it’s a mix of the two.

“Take my fuckin’ come, you take it so fuckin’ good. It’s all yours- it’s all yours”. He thrusts hard inside you twice before he stills. He rests his forehead against yours and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You allow yourself a few seconds to enjoy his tenderness.

You readjust your dress as Gator moves the table away from the door. You slip on Jenson’s coat as you walk over to the locked door.

“I meant what I said y’know…I’ve missed you”. Again, you’re back in the routine. You know it well and you can’t deny how much you enjoy it. He’s going to ask to fuck you tonight, he’ll promise that it’ll be special- that’s what he usually says.

He moves to interlock his pinky finger with yours.

“Get rid of Jenson and let me come round tonight. Tell him you’re sick or somethin’. I wanna…I mean… I gotta to make it up to you. I’ll tell Glenda that I picked up an extra shift. That gives us all night an’ we can take our time”.

As you open your mouth to respond, you hear a knock on the door and Jenson’s voice calling out.

“You in there hon? I think I’m gonna head out…really fancy dessert. Y’know, if you catch my drift”.

***

You tell Jenson in the car that you’re not feeling well. He’s a good guy and offers to stay and look after you. When you say no, he asks for a coffee date later this week and you agree.

As you see his reverse out of your driveway; you text Gator that he can come round if he’s here in the next hour.

He’s back in your bed in less than forty minutes.

#fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #fargoedit #gator tillman smut #gator tillman #gator Tillman x reader #joe keery #joe keery smut #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #joe keery x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x f!reader #two sinners works

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dckweed · 4 months

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NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

summary: in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

comment on this post to be added to the taglist for future parts!

The smell of cigar smoke hung thick in the air, the lighting dim in the dark office. You sat stiffly in a large leather chair, and across from you on the other side of the massive oak desk sat your step father, Boyd Augastine. He was a mean old man, and you had hoped in your time away at boarding school that he had graciously paid for, that he would have calmed down. That hope seemed to be more wishful than anything though, in fact, you thought he seemed meaner than the last time you had seen him at Christmas dinner.

“Boyd, please!” You begged, trying to fight back tears. You hated being home, if you could even call this massive estate that, it made you tense and irate, scared. You shake your head at the man in front of you, trying to remain as polite as you could lest you reap the repercussions. “You can’t make me marry that boy!” You say, tone as even as you could keep it. “Is this even legal?!”

He had at least let you finish speaking. “I can, and you will.” He sniffs, not even bothering to look up at you as he shuffled through some papers sitting in front of him. You assumed they were the documents pertaining to the horrid news you had just been given. “The Tillman boy is a fine young man, he’s strong and not entirely stupid, and his family is almost as powerful as me. You will marry him, and you will produce a male heir to take over both families when the time comes.” He says, finality in his tone and a hint of annoyance that you knew meant that the conversation needed to end before you wound up being hurt. “Lord knows i’m not about to leave my fortune to some half-witted emotional broads. You may not be my blood, but you are legally an Augastine, you will do your part.” You wince. “Unless of course, you’d rather one of the girls marry him when they come of age?”

You purse your lips, trying desperately to bite your tongue. He always knew exactly what to say to get you to do whatever he wanted, and you hated that you had no backbone sometimes. What were you supposed to do though? Your half sisters weren’t even in high school yet, they were mere babies still..they deserved to find their own happiness in life, with someone they actually loved..if you had to marry this boy for a few years and pop out a kid or two for them to be able to live their lives, just to satiate their father, then you would gladly do it. They didn’t need to take your place. Besides, it's not like divorce wasn’t a common thing amongst young married couples anyway.

He knows your answer before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak it and tosses his expensive fountain tipped pen across the desk. It lands with a thud and you pick it up with a trembling hand as he slides the documents towards you as well. “Your mother would be proud.” He says cooly, watching you scrawl your name across every highlighted area that needs signing. You wondered what the Tillman’s were receiving in return for this, they were already fairly well off from what you understood. Pretty much every man in their lineage had been sheriff of the godforsaken county, law ran in their blood, and it paid well too. But who's to say that they weren’t being paid handsomely for this?

You felt as if you had just signed away your soul.

You toss the pen back to him, and give him his stupid papers back before standing and turning on your heel. You didn’t care if you hadn’t been dismissed, you were done. You needed to be alone, you needed to cry. You stride across his large office, and just as your hand touches the brass knob of the heavy door, his voice rings out.

“You’re to be married in two months' time, wedding planning begins tomorrow.” You clench the knob, fighting back the tears. He didn’t deserve to see you cry. “Sleep well, Pearlie.” You swore on your mama’s gravestone that the nickname she had given you dripped with venom when it came from his mouth. Sometimes you wished you could drip actual venom into his mouth, shut him up forever. It was a soothing thought when you were younger, before he had shipped you off to boarding school.

You make your way down the long carpeted hallway to the large wooden staircase, climbing them as quickly as you could. You could hear your sisters, Victoria and Lucy in their room giggling about something that had happened at school, and you smiled as you pressed your ear to the door. You had worried the whole time your mother was pregnant that the girls would be treated just as horribly as you were when your mother wasn’t around, that they would have to hide bruises and emotions and pretend that everything was okay just like you did, but they were his own flesh and blood, his own life force, he could never act such a way towards his own blood. But they weren’t boys, so they also weren’t good enough to take over his fucking business.

You head a little farther down the hall, closing and locking your own door behind you as you slipped into your room, the only place that occasionally felt safe to you when you were here. “I wish you were here, mama.” You whisper to the photo sitting on the dressing table right next to the door.

True to his word, the wedding planning started the next day. You were awoken by your sisters’ nanny early in the morning, her knocking at your bedroom door loud to your pounding head. You had spent the night crying and you were paying for it dearly.

“Miss Pearl,” Her ever pleasant voice calls through the thick wood as you sit up in bed. “Boyd is requesting you downstairs, your betrothed and his father have arrived..” You glance at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning. You were used to waking up around this time for school anyway, you had only been home twenty-four hours by this point. “He’s not too pleased this morning,” Her hushed voice comes next and you sigh, leaning your head back into your pillow.

“Thank you, Lorraine,” You say loud enough for her to hear, your thick comforter falling off of you as you sit up. “Tell them I'll be down soon, please..” She doesn’t respond but you hear her footsteps fade away from your door.

You stretch before swinging your legs over the side of your bed, rolling your head from side to side. You knew it was in your best interest to play along with Boyd’s scheme, and he would know if you were half assing or catching an attitude the moment you walked into the room. If you were going to do this, then dammit, you were going to do this right.

Within fifteen minutes you were dressed in a sleeveless white dress that flowed down to your feet, the top of it pushing your breasts up in the illusion of a push-up bra. You had purposely bought this one a size or so too small for that effect while you were still at school, wanting to impress one of the guys you had been previously dating before graduation. You left your hair down to fall around your shoulders, brushing it and using one of your favorite hair serums to run through it with your fingers, leaving a nice smell before you slid on a glossy lip oil and mascara, with a spritz of your favorite perfume to your wrists.

With one last look at the photo of your mom, silently wishing she were here with you to help you through this, you open your door and make your way barefoot down the hallway and stairs.

You hear their voices when you come off the stairs in the middle of the grand hallway on the first floor, floating out of the massive dining room that was hardly ever used. You don’t pause, afraid that if you did it would be all you would need to turn tail and hide in your bedroom forever, and head immediately for the doorway, waltzing in as if you weren’t interrupting their apparently humorous conversation.

You paint a smile on your face as Boyd narrows his eyes at you, a look that you knew meant he wasn’t at all happy with you and you were certainly going to hear about it later. “Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” You say, kissing his cheek to keep up the appearance of a loving father and daughter relationship, something you had been doing since you were ten. He couldn’t have the world knowing that he despised his late wife’s daughter, could he? You squeeze his shoulder. “The drive up from school must have exhausted me more than i realized, i didn’t mean to sleep in and miss greeting our guests.” You shoot them an award winning smile as well as you smooth out your skirt, taking your seat next to Boyd, but across from the Sheriff and who you assumed was his son.

Boyd hums and you just know that he’s boiling with rage at you, though in your defense, he hadn’t informed you that there would be a breakfast this morning. “You haven’t missed much, we were just talking about your horse actually, and your award from Eventing last season.” Just the topic brought another smile onto your face, a real one this time.

“That was a close one too, we were neck and neck with our second place competitor..” You had spent the majority of the time after the event wondering if Boyd had paid off the judges to put you in first, though you did know that you had put in a lot of training hours with Bubbles, and it had clearly shown. Besides, Boyd didn’t like you nearly enough to pay off the judges just to see you place first in any sport, let alone Equestrian Eventing.

The older man sitting across from you, the Sheriff, smiles what appears to be a genuine smile at you. “You love your horses, I can tell from the way your whole face just lit up like the sun had touched it..” You can’t help the blush on your face, and judging by the look on his sons face as he looked at you, you had just done something right without even knowing it. “You and I already have something in common with each other, perhaps i’ll make time to take a ride with you this weekend..” His sons face completely changed at the mention, you would say it resembled a sort of panic.

“I would love that!” You exclaim, more than pleased to spend any kind of time on your horse, even if it was with your soon to be father in law. He nods at you in return, and nudges his son, as if communicating with him.

Breakfast is served not too much longer after that, and the time is spent with your step father and the Sheriff talking about things you couldn’t even have pretended to care about in that moment, like golf or what the government was doing, while you and the boy across from you shared a couple of glances, staying silent unless spoken to.

You had to admit, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. He wore a black polo shirt underneath of what you could only assume was a bullet proof vest with a velcro patch that said Sheriff across the chest. His hair was slicked back away from his face, and you noticed a tattoo peaking out of one of the short sleeves stretched across his bicep. Oh, he was certainly handsome, but probably not the type to ever be happy with a girl like you..nor did you think you could be happy with him.

You were obviously younger than him at only eighteen (your birthday thankfully just before your wedding date), you had just graduated highschool. You had no job, and your only future now lay with the man in front of you. He didn’t speak too much, and you couldn’t tell if it was because he was a naturally quiet person, or if it was because his father and Boyd were obviously the alphas in the room and from what you could gather, weren’t to be bothered until they bothered you first. You didn’t mind that he was older than you, though you guessed he was at least mid twenties if he was already a cop. You kind of liked the thought of being with someone older than you, the boys you had been with at school were all dipshits and childish. You hoped that he wasn’t the same. And if he was, well, at least he was handsome to look at.

The boy, Gator, looked up at you from across the table. You decided that his eyes were hazel, a beautiful color for a decidedly beautiful man. You give him a shy smile from where you sat, raising a mug of your favorite breakfast tea to your lips. You noticed the way he licks his lips, his eyes darting to your mouth and back to his plate once you had set your cup down on its saucer. Well, you thought, at least he’s clearly attracted to me. Maybe our marriage won’t be completely boring..

You had long ago tuned out the droning voices of your step father and your soon to be father in law, using your fork to pick around at the fruit salad you had served yourself for breakfast, adding a little yogurt to it here and there. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully eat, your stomach uneasy the more you thought about your impending marriage. God, how was arranged marriage even still a thing? How was this even fucking legal? You made a mental note to ask Boyd for copies of all of the documents you had signed so you could take them to a lawyer in town somewhere, have them double check that the documents were in fact legal. If there was anything you could do to get out of this, you were willing to do it.

You’re jolted from your thoughts by Boyd’s voice, and you jump, startled. “Sorry, i was day dreaming..” You say, shaking your head with a small giggle, hoping that he hadn’t been trying to get your attention for too long. You can see Sheriff Roy give a small smile from across the table, another nudge to his son.

Boyd gives you a subtle eye roll as he faces you, and you can tell from his body language that he’s upset with you for zoning out. You were certain to hear an earful about it tonight and that made you nervous. “Roy and I have some business to attend to in my office,” He says, giving a pointed glance to the boy sitting across from you guys. “How about you take Gator on a walk around the grounds? The girls are out getting piano and violin lessons right now, you won’t be bothered for a while.” Is he trying to tell me to fuck this boy? You wondered disgustedly, you knew Boyd was..well, Boyd, but really?

You want to say no, you want to tell him to marry the boy himself if it was that important to him, but you’re afraid of what could possibly happen to you if you do, so you paint another smile on your lips and look over to your husband to be. “I’ll show you my horse!” You say, setting your napkin next to your plate as you stand, walking around the table to lead him out into the foyer. “The barn is a little ways out there,” You say when you notice him following you out of the dining room. “Hope you don’t mind a little walk..”

He follows you silently through the formal living room and into the kitchen, straight back into the mudroom where you bend over to put your well worn boots on. They were brown, and the leather was starting to wear down on them but you didn’t mind, they still got the job done. They were a gift from your mama and you would wear them until they fell apart, and even then you would probably duct tape them back together again.

He’s gentlemanly enough to hold the back door open for you, and you breathe in his scent as you brush past him. He smells good, his cologne floods your scents. Its a woodsy kind of scent, mixed with a little bit of leather, and something a little fruity that you can’t quite name and you wonder what the hell it is as he falls in step next to you as you both walk off of the porch. His hands are slipped into his pockets as you guys walk, a casual look, and you notice that he’s tall too, even in his work boots.

You realize that he’s not going to make the first step to conversation.

When you’re a good enough distance away from the house, out of sight of Boyd’s office, you stop abruptly and turn to face him, the sun beats down on his face even with his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. He stops too, tilting his face down at you, an eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face. God, you though, he really is handsome.

“Can I help you with somethin’?” He asks, his drawl washing over you. That was the first time he had spoken and good lord his voice could do things to you if this were any other kind of situation, you just knew it. His shoulders are squared, and you realize that now, alone with you, he is the alpha male. You kind of like the vibe that rolls off of him, but it makes you wonder why he cowered when he was in the same room as your guys’ fathers.

You look around, lips pursed and hands on your hips as you thought. “Look,” You start, meeting his gaze under the brim of his hat. “The way I see it, neither of us particularly wants to be in this situation.” He hums in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest as he listens to what you have to say. “Neither of us are happy, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t at least try to be friends..we’re both stuck doing this, and even though i wasn’t given a choice, I would still like to at least be friends with the person i’m marrying in two months..”

He sniffs and looks around for a moment, and for the first time, you see a smile on his face and you couldn’t help but think it was beautiful. “Alright then,” He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. “Let’s be friends.”

taglist:

@ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer

#gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #joe keery #fargo season 5

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keeryscharm · 3 months

Text

Devil At The Drive-In

Title: Devil At The Drive-In

Pairing: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Gator are on a date at the drive-in but his thoughts aren’t on the movie

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), naive!reader, virgin!reader, mentions of dub-con, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink

Notes: I originally wrote and shared this fic on a now deleted account. I don’t think it’s still out there, but if it is, I’m the original author. This is just a slightly reworked repost. Also, I don’t have a proof reader, so please be gentle.

“Gator, stop!” you giggle, scrunching down in your seat as your boyfriend presses his face into the crook of your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with a series of rapid-fire kisses. Holding your bag of drive-in popcorn in one hand, you playfully bat at Gator’s chest with the other. “Watch the movie, silly boy”

With a grunt, a dejected Gator slides back to his side of the backseat before reaching for his large cup of Mountain Dew. This is the second time tonight his advances have been thwarted and the movie isn’t even half finished. For once the young deputy is starting to doubt himself.

The drive-in had been Gator’s idea, of course, as were all your dates. He never asked your input, knowing you’d agree to whatever he chose. Why wouldn’t you? He was a catch. Probably the catch of the town. A deputy, the sheriff’s son, strong and driven. A real man. Of course, he’d hung around the store you work at for nearly a weak, falsely claiming shoplifting was on the rise in the area, before finally getting the courage to ask you out for coffee. But that wasn’t important. What was important was, despite the brief time you’ve been together, Gator is certain you are the one for him. You’re pretty, sweet, loyal, and, thankfully, naive as hell.

You always listen wide-eyed to his stories about life as a small town cop, believing every embellished word that falls from his lips. “You’re so brave”, you’ve said more than once, awe dripping from your voice. You spend your lunch breaks bringing him a homemade lunch, barely having time for two bites of your own, because he lied that all the officers’ wives and girlfriends did the same. Gator had no doubt you were the one he wanted and now he was ready to lock it down.

For most men in the town committing to a woman involved a trip to the fancy jewelry store one town over and trading two months of salary for a sparkling engagement ring. For the less traditional men it means shopping for a home together, ring or not. To Gator Tillman it means only one thing - getting you pregnant. He wants you walking down the aisle with his baby inside you and not a chance in hell of ever being free. You’ll quit your job, close out your bank account, and be completely dependent on him just as God intended. His little housewife, scurrying around the house each morning as you hurriedly cook his breakfast and iron his uniform, your big, round belly leading the way.

As a boy Gator had heard his father lecture on the “sinful nature” of the local drive-in. The crumbling parking lot was practically a relic even then, but still, his father warned of how easy it was for a woman to give into a man during a drive-in movie. Drive-ins allowed cars to become bedrooms on wheels, Roy proclaimed to the young men who were gullible enough to listen, tempting even the most virtuous woman to give away her precious flower in the heat of the moment.

Now, casting a sideways glance to watch you reach for a piece of salty popcorn from the greasy paper bag, quickly licking it with the tip of your tongue before sliding it between your glossed lips, Gator is sure his dad is full of shit. He’d got further with you the night of the county fair, when he’d won you not one but two stuffed animals, and you’d let him grind against you until you became convinced you were going too far and frantically begged him to stop.

As Gator pretends to give a damn about the sappy romance film playing on the large screen, his mind wanders to how he had intended for the night to go. A far more interesting film begins playing in his mind.

“Gator”, you pant, lips wet with saliva, your naked breasts heaving. “We shouldn’t. I - I want to save myself.” Staring down at your concerned face in the dim glow of the drive-in screen, gaze unwavering, Gator’s fingers continue their assault of your clit. “Shhhh, it’s okay. You were saving it for me, y/n. The man you’re meant to be with, right? To marry? Baby, I’m here. You’re mine. Just trust me” He pulls back just long enough to free his cock from his underwear and doesn’t even try to hide his wolfish grin as your eyes widen. “You like what you see, sugar? Think you can take all this?” He pumps his length twice. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit”

Gator runs a hand up over his face, skimming his slicked back hair, before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The stirring in his pants is not easily ignored but his thoughts are not deterred.

“Oh my god, Gator!” you mew. Your nails leave trails of angry red lines down his back, making him curse and hiss in painful pleasure. Your face is screwed up in obvious discomfort, makeup running, as your virgin cunt struggles to take his generous sized cock, but you clearly don’t want him to stop anytime soon. Squeezing your face, Gator coos condescendingly, mouth hovering over yours. “You like being so full of me, princess? I bet you’re glad you waited for a real man, huh? Gonna wanna fuck all the time now, I bet. Always gonna want it raw like this so you can really feel me” Half nodding, half tugged downward by Gator’s hand, you shake your head in agreement.

Gator’s cock is straining against his jeans, now achingly hard. He masks a groan with a cough as he squeezes himself through the denim. No matter how invested you are in the movie you’re sure to soon notice your boyfriend’s raging hard-on. And yet the thoughts roll on. He thinks of all the places he can fuck you after he’s got you addicted to his cock. You straddling his lap and riding him in the back of his patrol car. In his bed while his father is at home, clasping his hand tightly over your mouth. Maybe he’ll show up when it’s your night to close up after work and bend you over the counter. He’ll take you wherever he can, as many times as he can, until he’s sure he’s knocked you up. He sees that day so clearly in his mind.

“Gator, I - I have to tell you something. Um…” Your eyes are clearly red from crying. “I’m pregnant” You say the words like they should be a surprise, as if your boyfriend hasn’t been constantly fucking your brains out and telling you not to worry your pretty head about birth control. Even now you look so damn innocent. “My sweet girl”, Gator whispers, pulling you against his chest, placing a hand under your chin to make you meet his gaze. “This just means we have to have that wedding a little sooner, that’s all. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna take care of you” His hand rests on your belly. “I’m gonna take care of both of you”.

“Really? You’re not mad?” Your tear-stained face lights up in obvious relief. So. Fucking. Cute.

“Of course not, y/n! I’ll even go with you tomorrow to hand in your two week notice”

“Oh, I don’t have to quit, Gator. I can -“

“Easy, sugar, let me handle everything, okay? You don’t wanna stress the baby, do you?”

A throaty groan escapes Gator at the thought of accomplishing his goal and this time it catches your attention. When you ask if he’s alright the concern in your voice is so genuine Gator can’t control himself. In one quick motion he grabs your hand and presses it to his erection. A gasp and a soft, surprised whisper. “Gator…”

“You feel that, baby? That’s all because of you. That’s what you do to me. You gonna take care of it for me? Let me make you feel good so I can feel good too?” He punctuates the last word by forcing your hand to squeeze his hard-on. A moment later you shyly nod, leaning forward to offer your slightly parted mouth. Gator’s kiss is all tongue and teeth.

“I’m gonna take care of you, y/n”, he moans into your mouth, gently pushing you down on to your back. “Just trust me, baby”

#gator tillman #fargo fx #gator tillman x reader #my fics #joe keery

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youthereader · 3 months

Text

Gator catches you.

PAIRING: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2.4k. Gator finds you on the edge of town after he lets you get away.

RATING: e; NONCON, mentions of underage drinking and drug use, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, public sex, gaslighting, angst, dead dove do not eat

A/N: this took a much darker turn than the first part. I didn't plan on writing more for this character but a couple people wanted more. this is a dark fic, so if it's not your jam, turn away now.

Part 1. (Gator blackmails you.)

You sense that your friends are suspicious after Gator Tillman caught you and not them that night. They ask about what happened and you lie, saying you managed to talk your way out of it, he let you go with a warning.

They’re thankful, initially, because you never ratted on them, though they deserved it for ditching you. Then you feel them start to pull away from you, especially after you blow a couple of your male friends at parties. It’s not like you, and that’s the point. You’re chasing a high you can’t get from guys your age. You blow them, and they enjoy it, but what makes you a target from then on is how quickly it happened. Two guys in the space of forty-eight hours.

Rumors start around school and it eventually gets back to you, that you’re a slut now, and random guys that have never spoken to you before ask for your Snapchat and harass you in-between classes about hanging out on weekends. The attention is weird, and so obvious. You’ve never been known for anything before, and now you exist.

The emptiness you feel from hooking up since Gator frustrates you, but nothing is worse than how unsatisfied you feel every time you make yourself come. The relief is so fleeting, that within seconds of finishing you need more. No fantasy is enough, and you’re at it night after night, not sleeping enough.

Your grades aren’t suffering yet but your homeroom teacher asks to see you, expressing their concern. They say you’re not yourself, you don’t seem as happy. Honestly, you’re not. Things felt less complicated before. You used to not search the main road of town for anyone. You used to want to be invisible.

To let off steam, you go to a party with those same shitty friends, but this time some college guys are there with weed and pills. You smoke a little, but drink more, end up under one of them but don’t remember much of it. The next morning, a friend pulls you aside, a smirk barely hidden as she asks:

“You know we heard you begging that guy to choke you, right?”

The humiliation hits you and you shake your head. “Fuck off. I’m not into that weird shit.”

“Your kink’s your kink, dude,” she retorts, shrugging. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut the fuck up, because it’s not my kink,” you snarl, and her eyes flash with irritation.

“Whatever.”

The anxiety you used to feel when you thought you might have upset one of your friends doesn’t come on as strong this time. You don’t care if they decide to exclude you, not if they’re going to make fun of how you want to fuck.

All you care about is trying to find a way out of this funk, by any means necessary. You hang around one of the guy friends you blew, doing dumb shit that culminates in some light graffitiing. Not exactly your area of expertise, as it turns out.

You realize too late that you’re caught, your friend yelling to run away. In your defense, you’re a little high from a joint you shared earlier, so when the spray can you’re holding is knocked out of your hand, it plays in slow motion. It clatters across the ground in the alley you still occupy, and you turn around, fingers wrapping around your neck as you’re pulled to your feet.

Gator lifts you up, shoving you against the wall, knocking the wind out of you. You cough, hands going to his wrist. His gloved hand doesn’t budge when you try to scratch him off.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he hisses, his eyes alight with amusement.

You can’t breathe, feet kicking him, but he’s stock still as he stares back at you, then glances at your handiwork.

“What the fuck,” he adds, sounding a little amazed. “Since when are you doing this petty shit?”

You can’t reply of course, and he pays you no mind, letting you go. You tumble, your knees breaking your fall, as he moves closer to the wall to inspect it. On the ground, you cough and hold your throat, sure you’re going to puke, but you don’t. The world spins regardless, righting itself in time for you to see him stalking you again. You scamper backwards, and Gator stands over you, hands on hips.

“If I find you by yourself again, you’re dead.”

You wonder what he means, because he’s not threatening arrest this time. Your eyes slip down his front and you spy the outline of his erection. Your fear enticed him again. The thrill that runs through you is like no other, and your chest heaves some more, the air not quite filling you enough.

“Gator –”

He walks away, and in a way, you’re grateful because you don’t know what you would have said to him. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, your neck still aching.

You’re past caring. You can be friendless now, it’s not as if they were helping you to begin with. You go to school, you go home. You do nothing on weekends. You get isolated quickly, predictably. It would be sad if you were your younger self.

You walk alone everywhere when your house feels cramped. You don’t want your parents to worry, they’ve never been particularly invested in your social life to begin with. You slip out one afternoon and find yourself walking along the road Gator drove you down.

You think about him almost constantly, like a low hum in the background you can occasionally ignore, but it’s always there. The sun is starting to set later in the afternoon, the worst parts of winter are over. It’s not snowing anymore, but the air still is fresh, making your of your face tingle.

In your own world, it’s no wonder that a car pulls up by you. The road is otherwise empty, and you know who it is before you even look towards it.

Gator rolls down his window, calling out your name. You glance his way, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter, your face burning.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” you call back, not stopping.

You’ve been waiting for him, for what feels like weeks. Maybe months? Years, if you’re truly honest? You didn’t know you needed him until now. This darkness.

“I told you you’d regret walking alone…”

You stop abruptly at that, glaring at him, and the car rolls to a stop. He gives a grin, takes a long drag of his vape. You say nothing.

“How come I heard you’re fuckin’ random guys for weed?”

“Why would you care?” you throw back. You cringe. “I mean, you’ve got no evidence-”

He smiles again. “I am the law, baby. But I mean if you’re doin’ shit like that, I might need to get checked.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, and turn your heel.

You hear him open his door but you walk on, not sure what you want. If he takes you to the station now, your reputation is hardly worth saving at this point. Must have been one of your so-called friends that started the rumor he heard. If he wants to blackmail you again, is there any point fighting him? You miss him, he fucked you up.

You can’t stop the anger that boils over, when he grabs your arm and jerks you back.

“I’m talkin’ to ya-”

He kisses you on the lips and you bite him on the lip, Gator pulling back with a yell, his fingers going to his lips. You freeze, terrified by your own stupid impulse.

“What the fuck? You fuckin’ bit me?!”

He grabs you by the neck and marches you back, shoving you against the hood of his car. His hips meet your ass and you can’t move, he’s way too heavy though you struggle against him. Whatever desire you have for him, when Gator is angry he is fucking terrifying. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He has a gun, for fuck’s sake, and you’re just some kid sister of his friend’s.

His hand is down the back of your pants and you shriek, his gloved fingers invading your cunt without preamble, the tears springing in your eyes. You grip him back, his low chuckle behind you.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. “You’re over-complicatin’ this…”

You close your eyes, trying to reel it in, the fear… the pleasure beginning to coil in your stomach. You hear the harsh squelches of your cunt being worked, you hear his belt unbuckling–

“Gator, please…”

You blubber, your legs shaking as he yanks your pants down, ridding you of his fingers, only to pin you back down against the cold metal beneath you. He keeps your arms pinned behind you, and you can’t see what he’s doing, you’re forced to listen, to wait.

Everything careens forward as you feel him take a swipe of your juices and move further up, up, up to between your cheeks. You start to sob louder.

“Shh. Shut up!”

“Gator, wait. Wait, please, wait – wait – don’t -!”

He rubs at your puckered hole, the sensation making you whimper and plead. You’re not ready, you’ve never done this before. Your bare ass exposed to him, you’re completely helpless, and you know that’s what gets him off.

“You’re worth freezin’ my balls off,” he whispers, and you know what’s happening next, but you can’t quite believe it.

Not until the first push of the tip of his cock against your asshole, and you tense, whimpering as you squirm beneath him.

“Just relax. Relax!”

You grit your teeth, tears streaming down your face as you feel him push past the first ring of muscle. The pain is like nothing else in your life, and you go still, succumbing to it. He groans, chuckles in awe.

“Holy shit. Holy shit…”

He fills you up, then starts to move back and forth, slow at first. You feel stretched beyond comprehension, like at some point you’ll break. Like he’ll literally tear you open. It burns, until it doesn’t, your body turning lax Gator fucks you hard, but slowly. With each knock of his body against yours, you hear the slap of your skin, your cheek rubbing the hood of his car.

His hand on your ass cheek slips under, and you yelp at the feeling of his hand covering your pussy, brushing the folds as he never stops.

“I gotta-”

He replaces his hand again, having tugged off his glove with his teeth, and he starts to chuckle again, low and a little breathless.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You don’t bother arguing, because you know you are. There’s no turning back, from how your body just won’t cooperate for you when you need it most. You feel wound tight, Gator on your throbbing clit as his hips smack against your ass.

He unexpectedly tucks his fingers inside your cunt again, the sensation making you tense up again. You wail as he works you, he’s no longer pinning you against the car to stop you from escaping. He dedicates himself to pleasure, yours and his, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he reaches the deepest parts of you.

You feel the sudden urge to pee, panicking. If you struggle, but even with your arms free, you can’t shift his weight, your hands blindly trying to reach behind to shove him off.

You give an almighty shudder and come hard, losing your vision. Your orgasm is long and intense, and like nothing else you’ve managed before. It almost hurts from the intensity of it. You blink back the world as you recover, your empty cunt twitching as Gator wrings his hand.

“Made you squirt…”

He takes hold of your hips and bears down, speeding up his thrusts. He doesn’t stop, and it’s hurting more, with your thighs soaked, his cock working in and out of you without reprieve.

“Can’t get ya pregnant, this was the only way-”

He makes a choked sound and goes still, half falling on top of you, and you know he’s come inside you without checking. You feel him pull out and you wince, and then there’s a trickle down your crack.

He steps back and you take the opportunity to pull your pants up again, panting like he is, leaning on the hood of his car. You’re still in shock, not pulling away when he grabs your chin and kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth.

A beat later he changes his mind, taking hold of your front and pulls you towards the backseat. He opens it and puts you inside, goes to his door and slips back in.

He takes deep a lungful of air, sighing. You stare at your legs, your damp pants. Everything feels warm and sticky, and you’re sweating.

“You okay?” he asks, and you glance at him in the rearview mirror, perplexed.

“What?”

“You came, right?”

You look away. You know why he’s saying that. It’s to make it seem like he’s not guilty of anything. You swallow hard.

“I would’ve… done those things if you’d asked me to,” you say.

He frowns. “What are you talking about?”

You go quiet, and you see he’s driving you home. You can’t believe this happened in broad daylight, thinking that would make a difference at all. Apparently not to Gator.

“Hey, I’ve been followin’ you. It was bound to happen sooner or later to you, since you’re actin’ so dumb and reckless. It’s better it was me than some other guy you don’t know-”

“But I don’t know you,” you retort, your voice hoarse with tears. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. And stop cryin’. It’s a real turn-off.”

“You’re… fucking evil,” you whisper.

He looks at you, turning his head to glare at you through the partition this time.

“Hey, you got off.”

He turns back, and you travel in silence back to your house. There’s no car in the driveway, no-one is home yet. He doesn’t move to get out of the car, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You tell anyone, I’ll kill ya.”

You believe him, but you deflate with a kind of weariness instead of turning still with fear like he hoped.

“Yeah, I figured.”

He lets you out, and you walk to your front door without looking back. The kicker is that once he leaves, you take a long time to clean yourself up. You peel off your clothes, smell his come and yours all over you when you stand in the bathroom, the shower running already.

You savor each step of it, seeing pink water in the bottom of the shower. He hurt you, badly, and yet you feel that longing again.

He’s that high you need to chase.

if you're still here, thanks. 🖤 if you want more, hmu.

#gator tillman #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery smut #gator x y/n #gator x reader #gator fargo #gator tillman x reader #dark fic

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heartbreak-sandwich · 14 days

Text

Good Cop/Bad Cop - Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader 🐊

Gator loves playing good cop/bad cop – but he plays both parts, and it’s deliciously unpredictable. When you asked him if his handcuffs fit everyone, he answered the question with a demonstration followed by his favorite game. Words: ~900 CW: SMUT - gator tillman x fem!reader, slightly mean!Gator, light bondage, hints of oral (f receiving), light spanking, unprotected p/v sex, basically porn without plot, honestly.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT! ❤️‍🔥 Master List

The chain of the handcuffs jingled sharply against the metal frame of the headboard as you tried to relax your arms, but it was no use. You let your gaze drift down in between your thighs, spread open by a pair of large hands, long fingers digging into your flesh as they pushed your legs even further apart.

His once gelled back hair was falling into his eyes after having worn your thighs as earmuffs for the past half hour, and he had just finished you off for the second time. He placed one harsh bite on your left inner thigh, then one to the right, your oversensitivity causing you to gasp. He smirked up at you, his chocolate eyes dark with mischief, before pushing himself up onto his knees and cleaning your slick off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’ve been so good for me, Princess. But you’re still movin’ too much.” His voice fell flat at the end of his sentence. He was scolding you for making too much noise with the handcuffs, but you couldn’t help it – and he knew it.

“Please, Gator,” you whined. “You know I can’t do anything about the noise –”

Before you could finish your excuse, he leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips and shushing you gently.

“None of that now,” he crooned, the menacing glint in his eye matching his devilish smirk. He stood from the bed, fussing with his belt before quickly removing his camo trousers and tossing them aside along with his briefs.

Your mouth watered at the site of his already hard cock as he approached the side of the bed. Instinctively, you tried to move your hands to touch him, the rattling of metal on metal resounding throughout the room once more, and he scowled.

“What is it you don’t understand about keep fuckin’ still?” Gator spat in his hand and began to slowly fist his cock, careful to swirl his palm around the head in between pulls, and all you could do was watch.

“I said I was gonna fuck you dumb, but I might not even need to,” he chided, picking up his pace with his hand, his shaky breath turning into low, gravelly moans as he toyed with you.

“Feels so good,” he gushed. “Bet you wish you could touch it – feel it sink into you nice and slow, pretty little pussy tightening up like a vice.”

He used his free hand to slide two fingers up and down through your glistening slit, stopping just before your clit every time, knowing it would drive you over the edge, all while still using his hand to fuck himself, the wet sounds starting to drown out your own heavy breathing.

“Gator, please!” You were finally begging him, and your eyes stung with tears of frustration.

“Oh, now you’re runnin’ your mouth, too?” Both of his hands ceased their busywork, and he finally climbed back onto the bed, nestling himself back between your thighs before pushing them up and back, your knees almost touching the bed underneath you.

“Please,” you begged once more, softer now, as his dark eyes drilled into yours, his pupils completely blown out with hunger for you. He leaned down close to your face so your noses were almost touching, and you could smell the hint of fruit mixed with your own arousal, the sweet and sour mixture making you salivate all over again.

“So polite,” he whispered through a mean looking smirk.

You yelped as he pushed himself all the way inside of you in one fluid motion, and the delicious stretch of being suddenly full of him had you seeing stars already.

He fumbled with a bandana hanging over one of his bedposts, and quickly stuffed it into your mouth before gripping your chin roughly in one hand, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“One more fuckin’ sound out of you, and I’m pullin’ out and leavin’ you here like this. Got it?”

You searched his eyes for any hint of playfulness, but you could tell he was completely serious.

“I don’t got all day now. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Y'hear me?”

Your eyes widened, and you nodded hastily, biting down on the bandana and taking extra care not to rattle your cuffs again.

“You’re bein’ so good for me, you know that?” Gator leaned into the crook of your neck, sucking another sweet bruise on the trail of the ones that had started to fade, and he slowly pushed himself into you just a little bit deeper until you couldn't take any more of him.

He started at a brutally slow pace, taking care to roll his hips at the end of each thrust all the way to the hilt so the tip of his length hit just the right spot inside of you while small whimpers just barely escaped around the sides of the already damp bandana in your mouth.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he growled against your ear, finally starting to pick up his pace as your eyes rolled back and your shoulders relaxed, your cuffs clanging against the headboard once more.

You expected Gator to stop, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed one of your knees to your chest and hooked your leg over his shoulder before landing a hard smack on your asscheek and pounding into you harder and faster.

You felt the fire growing in your core, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had you reeling for a third time that day, and there was nothing you could do or say to stop it.

Thank you sm for reading! This was inspired by my loveliest Gator anon, and I couldn't keep the thots to myself ❤️‍🔥🐊 dividers by @cafekitsune

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman smut #gator tillman #fargo season 5 fanfic #pwp fics #I am way too into this #gator tillman fic #it's really the handcuffs tho #I just want him to be a little bit mean but switch it up #I hope this is relatable lmao

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wroteclassicaly · 4 months

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Pick You Up At 7

(Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader)

Summary: When your date goes bad, Gator reacts in unexpected ways.

Warnings: Language, implied smut/smut, low self-esteem, body dysmorphia, food insecurity, fat phobia, fat shaming, Gator and reader roast one another, have nicknames, mentions periods, Gator being a tad misogynistic, anxiety, and depression.

Word count: 2,913

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader

A/N: This one isn’t for the faint of heart, folks! It’s straight up self-indulgent, it’s intense. So… yeah. Read the warnings and read at your own risk! Wanted to provide a little release/comfort for myself, and I’m proud of this one!

You knew they were laughing as soon as you got into the office the next morning. Not so subtle hushed whispers and baiting for remarks that you’d normally snap back with. But you keep your head down, lunch forgotten in the car. You’d never let someone tell you what he had last night, not usually, but you’re sure that it’s what you expect from the guy you hate yourself for really wanting - will do, that’s got you worked up the most.

No, that’s a lie. It’s an added situation, but what happened on your date last night, you’ve never felt so disgusted or panicked.

The men continue to talk before they go back to paperwork and shit talking, leaving you to shed your winter attire carelessly by your rolling desk chair. You sit down as if it’ll break, pulling your long gray buttoned down cardigan over your form. It’s not what you usually wear, either. Proud to show off your figure, knowing the guys here aren’t into your extra pounds, it never bothered you that much to put your cleavage on display while working in the police station as their only secretary. If they have any inkling towards you, then it’s ‘do me a favor’ or ‘get a beer for me, maybe join the rest of the boys as we hit on every other female but you’ kinda thing.

The air in the place changes before the sound of his thick leader combats approaches your desk. You keep your head down and plead, pretending to organize old files that are ready for the shredder.

Please don’t. Please don’t come over here. Please. Please.

“Hey, twerp.” He leans over the counter, vape in one hand, his newly freed arm propped across his other.

You raise a brow as your simple acknowledgement, trying to hold your breath as his cedarwood cologne and mint hair gel soak into your nostrils when he bends down to sort through the little decorative holographic candy dish you keep. Annoyingly, seconds later he’s whining. “Where’s the goods at? The fuck? Shit’s practically empty.”

Go away.

You manage to speak, cringing at how cracked your voice is, dangling over the precipice of breaking down. Here. In front of everyone. In front of him.

“I’m working right now. Go to the Dollar Tree if you want candy so fuckin’ bad.” You don’t even address him with a nickname or his last name. And it unnerves him. With a shove of your small crystal bowl, you watch the leftover mints slosh onto the counter and over your papers, and only then your reaction is what he wants. He needs you to look at him.

He’s smirking and chewing on the filter of his vape, blowing a smoke cloud into the air and making you grit your teeth. That clock in the distance sounds louder, cheaper. And Gator Tillman takes your distracted gaze and creeps around and starts looking at your desk. It’s your space here, regardless. And up until now, he used to know that too. You sigh, asking him what he’s doing,

“Where’s your purse, kid? You must be hiding it all in there. You on the rag, that it? Would explain why you’re being a bitch and the stuff isn’t here.”

“Gator…”

He kicks your coat aside, but pauses his searching when you say his name. Like a damned addiction he can’t yet admit to

“Calm your granny panties down. Where is it at?”

“It’s not here.” You’re losing control of yourself. He keeps pushing.

“Why? You know nobody gives a shit if you bring your red tide plugs in here. Can’t have you bleedin’ all over shit. It’s mighty unprofessional, you know?”

“Take your shriveled little ballsack elsewhere, I’m bored with you.” He’s grateful you’re engaging, hands sliding over his cargo pockets and patting.

“Or —“

Your heart rate accelerates, knowing exactly where this is going. It’s why he originally came to your desk, you’re not stupid.

“ — You didn’t get laid last night. Would also explain this crap.”

“Stop it.” It's pathetic, a weak demand, even to your ears, but it’s all you got, that anxiety clawing your esophagus and winding up around your lungs like a cobweb, squeezing like a vice.

“I told you he was a loser, darlin’. You never listen. So what happened?”

“I asked you to quit.”

“And I asked you what happened. What? He’s too much of a pussy to put it in when there’s a little blood? Did it make him queasy —“

You’re out of your chair and facing him, hands on his leather jacket. And he’s down in your chair, the wheels moving so fast that he flies back and hits the filing cabinet, scattering things everywhere, his legs coming up and then his heels slamming down rather comically. The guys howl in the background, making Gator having to inhale sharply to get it together. You’re walking away from him and down the hall to the restroom where he follows, walking right in behind you and slamming his hand on top of the metal stall door to prevent it from closing.

You try but it’s no use. Your fight is gone, the burn blurs your vision, scorching your throat, making everything hazy.

“You don’t fuckin’ do that to me in front of them, you hear me? You don’t disrespect —“

A sniffle that would’ve been quieter, it echoes in the expanse of the cold, gray walls. You pass him and find yourself clutching the sink, pleading. It’s like you’ve lost all ability to walk, to think, to process how to guard your tightly kept emotions.

And it scares Gator Tillman to death.

“Gator, please just go away?”

His boots creak and squish on the floor as he pivots and finds a space beside you, folding knuckles resting beside your hand, nearly touching, a warmth that threatens you both within its encasement.

“Is this about your outfit? The baggy sweater thing? You know the guys all stare at your big tits when you wear those other tops, right?”

You’d laugh, even be prideful, but you don’t believe a damned thing right now. Because in spite of what he says, you know Gator has a soft spot in his heart that isn’t touched by his namesake’s cruelty. You shake your head and watch him take the vape out, your eyes glistening with tears when you take in his form. He blows a line of smoke and damn near chokes when he sees the actual tears drip down your cheeks.

“Can I have a hit of that?” It’s a bold move. In part because you always roast him for it, and two, because his mouth has just been on it and he’ll get to taste you. You’ll be tasting each other.

He hands it to you, fingers brushing yours. He wants nothing more than to touch you, and he has to fight himself where he stands, feeling an electricity at the nape of his neck that shocks his flesh full of goosebumps, as you wrap your lips around the mouthpiece and puff a few times, coughing. He smiles softly, in spite of the situation.

You, you’re trying to mull over how you can taste his minty saliva beneath the nasty ass acidic fruit cloud that’s misting over your lungs. “Jesus Christ, what flavor is that?”

Taking it back, he’s all too eager to sample you, clicking his lips together and pocketing the vape. “Think it’s banana kiwi.”

There’s a comfortable beat before you both remember why you’re here. It dawns on Gator then, and you both know it. There’s this dark look that pools in the mossy oak of his gaze, drowning out all rationality. His voice cracks sharp, a tone that you’ve never heard before. “Did he hurt you? What happened last night?”

“Just drop it, okay?” You find your voice again, but Gator is already seeing red, a tunnel vision of fire and brimstone with your date from the night prior.

You aren’t ready for it, not in the slightest. Your skin prickles to life, body drenched in elation, relief, and struggling to catch up with your racing heartbeat. His pointer and middle fingers find your chin in the gentlest press, tilting. “Kiddo…”

“Doesn’t matter what he did.”

“You know it fuckin’ does.” Gator’s thumb twitches as it catches a teardrop. It tracks across your jaw and back.

You’re a little angry now, finally snapping at him like an animal that’s cornered. “Fine. You wanna know what he did, Mr. Prom King?” Gator winces at how you use his former title, clearly not impressed. You didn’t run in the same circles and he knows where this is going.

“Twerp, c’mon —“

“Just shut your mouth and listen for once, since you want to know so badly.” Your hands leave the speckled counter and you step away, swiping at your damp eyes. “He took me to dinner and waited until the waiter came to take our orders, to tell them that he wasn’t paying for mine. And you know, I just thought he was a douche. But I guess he had the smarts to wait until the waiter left again before he told me that what I ordered wasn’t appropriate, so he didn’t feel comfortable paying for it.”

Gator, still a little confused, speechless, questions, “Well, what did you get?”

“Steak and fries.” You want to scream at what Gator is not seeing.

“But most people like that kinda shit? I eat that every weekend —“

You blow out a breath that causes you to choke on a small whimper. This causes Gator to change his tune. “Wait…”

“He thought I should have the side salad for ‘someone my size.’ And after dinner was over, he made it a point to inform me that no one would go out with someone dressed in a dress that tight. How embarrassing it is.”

Gator is positively seething now, teeth clenching. And the fact that you wore this for the dickbag and he wasn’t all over you?

“I pointed out that at least half a dozen women in the restaurant were wearing more revealing outfits, that it’s not up to him or anyone else to judge. And he couldn’t wait to cut me off to let me know that he didn’t care about that. He cared about…” Your voice breaks and you laugh in wet disbelief.

“He cared about what?” Gator’s tone is at toxic levels now, nearing a whisper.

There’s no way to hide how you're openly sobbing now, snotting, lower lip quivering. “He cared about girls like me thinking guys like him wanna see someone who weighs this much, wearing something like that.”

“He needs his ass strung up on a barn door and used as target practice —“

“Don’t act like you give a shit, Tillman. I’ve seen the posters in your room, the girls you flirt with at the bars, the ones you talked to in school. Don’t be a fucking marauder with me.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even know me in highschool!” He’s offended and it pisses you off. Another fib. In this small town everyone knows everyone, or at least hears of them - that is a given.

“Oh, I knew you. I knew your crowd. And you all made it abundantly clear I was to stay out of the way. You’re just like all of the other assholes around here when it comes to how you treat women, nothing changes. Weight defines everything, even when it shouldn’t, no matter what body type a person has. It always does to people.”

“Then why the fuck did he ask you out if he was going to act like a bitch?” Gator goes straight for it with a sigh of confusion.

You laugh this time, a sound that levels Gator with diabolical unease. “He was bored and wanted someone to get him off, so he thought I’d be an easy enough, sure thing. Entitled fucking prick.”

It’s a somber silence after, your dying sniffles ceasing as you swipe your nose and attempt to collect yourself, stomach hollow and nauseated. You can’t stay here anymore, not after this. You manage to look at Gator and step with one hand on the bathroom door. “I’m going back to work. If you can not tell the other guys, I’d appreciate it.”

And as Gator is left alone in the cool, dim light bathroom, he’s already formulating an idea, going straight out the back entrance and into his squad car.

The next hour went by quicker than you thought, giving you time to push away all thoughts of your confrontation and reveals with Gator. You’ve given him more ammo to tease you with, but you’re also wondering why he’s not here? You’re in the midst of stacking new department funding files when you hear it. Your date’s voice.

“I didn’t do nothin’! You know I didn’t!”

And another, one that has your mouth going dry.

“Get your ass movin’, pencil dick.”

Your jaw is close to dropping, becoming unhinged seconds later as Gator rounds the corner in his gear, your date’s collar clutched in his fist, the vape in the other, and a very noticeable split across your date’s lip, complete with a bloodied nose. Gator stops short in front of the desk, shoving your date into its edge. He’s panting heavily, raising a brow at you, Gator amused from behind.

“Hey, twerp.” Gator grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Got a booking for ya to process!”

“I… what?” You come up with.

“You gonna tell her what you did, shitbird?”

“What’s going on?” You and Gator are going back and forth, your former date nearly ignored. This is not a coincidence. And you’re practically glued to your chair at the notion that Gator went after him in your honor.

Does this mean…?

“Caught this fucker side swiping candy at the damned Dollar Tree. What kind of prick does that when it’s a dollar?”

“I was not!” Your date is shouting.

The Dollar Tree? Wait…

You feel as if you’ve been hit with a pillow and swallowed the feathers, enjoying their light tickles that scratch at your throat. You want to laugh. By golly, you almost do. Gator whistles for another officer that takes your date down the hall. Seconds later he’s leaning on bended elbows, jacket crunching, his voice a whispered hum for you to hear, and you alone.

“Didn’t wanna forget this.” He unravels his arms and slides one into his pocket, his massive palm full of the candy you both like. He lets it spill into your dish, waiting a few beats before speaking again. “All good now.” With a snatching of his favorite piece of chocolate, he knocks his knuckles on your countertop.

“Get him processed in, yeah?”

You nod dumbly, watching him walk away. He turns around and waves with one finger, however, before he meets the other policeman and your ex-date.

“By the way, be ready at seven. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get supper.” He elgonates a leather clad arm, fingertips drumming on the doorway. His voice is raspy when he focuses back on you, eyes dark in a completely different way. “Wear that dress too.”

Your legs tighten together and you pinch at your cardigan, fanning yourself.

“You get your ass movin’ down that hallway, short stack!” Gator finishes, turning to you one last time and flashing a cheeky little wink.

Gator did indeed pick you up in his truck. Seven on the dot. He wore nice dark jeans and a crisp white button up, loosened to let a silver chain peek out, nestled amongst the thick chest hair, his leather jacket over him, hair slicked back, and his watch and normal boots. You wore that tight dress with a little unease, and slightly heeled boots over your sheer black tights, a few rings adorning your hands. When Gator walked you to your side of the car after walking you out of your house, you weren’t regretting anything about the purchase of the form fitting dress any longer.

When you got to dinner, Gator waited as you ordered, encouraging you to get the steak and fries that he knew you wanted. And after drinks, you shared the biggest piece of chocolate cake in the joint. Conversation flowed easy, felt good. Your old date wasn’t mentioned, but you both knew. Gator had taken you back to his place (per your request), where he’d laid you down in his bed and held your legs open until you were begging him to fuck you. And that he did.

His hand splayed atop yours, your dress around your waist, he’d taken you from behind, plaster escaping his paneled wall as a result. When that had ended, he’d stripped you free of everything, and walked you to his mirror, chin on your shoulder, fingers in your cunt. Showing you what he liked about your body, but telling you that it doesn’t matter what anyone but you thinks. And if anyone thinks differently, he’d put them all away. Impractical, but enough to cause you to cream his thick digits and soak his floor.

The next day, you’d worn your most low cut top with pride, settling at your desk to another empty candy dish. When you look up, Gator is smiling in your direction, that damned vape in one hand, candy wrapper in the other.

We all need someone to help us feel good about ourselves sometimes.

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ssweetleaf · 15 days

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bleed.

gator tillman x afab!reader

summary: gator uses his knife to show you who you belong to.

includes: SMUT 18+, dub-con, knife play, blood play, ownership kink???

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Gator’s mouth was hot on your neck, straddling your waist with those thick thighs of his, a steady palm weighing heavy on your chest as he kept you down and still.

His hunting knife glistened with every short flick of his wrist, the shiny metal winking at you, mocking you, and your chest heaved in anticipation of what was to come.

“You scared, hon?” He cooed, pouting down at your shaky form, all condescending and dripping with venom.

You gave him a short nod, blinking back a wave of tears that threatened to ebb over your lash line.

He clicked his tongue, grazing the skin of your cheek with his knuckles before pinching it between a thumb and forefinger.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you too bad, baby,” he cooed, pressing a short, spongy kiss to your forehead. “Jus’ gotta put you in your place, that’s all— show you who you belong to.”

Gator pushed the fabric of your shirt up, exposing the plush flesh of your tummy, the tip of his blade ran along the length of your skin, not yet harsh enough to break the skin, but enough to have you shivering and waiting for his next move.

He smoothed his free hand along your thigh, pushing them apart and groaning lowly at the sight of your panty-clad cunt, a wet spot evident, saturating the fabric and he grabbed at the elastic, tugging them upwards, watching with a lip between his teeth at the way your pussy lips enveloped the material.

Your poor clit throbbed, desperate for Gator’s attention and your thighs quivered from trying and failing to shut your legs, his knife so dangerously close to your pussy.

“Now,” he sighed, tapping at his chin in mock thought, fingers dancing idly up and down the skin of your thighs, creating goosebumps in their wake. “The question is, where do I cut you, pretty girl?”

You sucked in a sharp breath and it hitched in your throat, it was useless to try and hold in your tears anymore, the fat, salty droplets streamed down your cheeks, ruining the pretty makeup you spent so much time on just for him. But he thought you looked prettier like that, with your mascara streaming in long, black lines and your lipstick smeared along your cheek.

So pretty, he thought. Actin’ as if butter wouldn’t melt.

Gator caught sight of your hip, pulling your panties down to get to the soft skin beneath, trailing his thumb along the stretch marks and blemishes that resided there.

“Think I found the spot,” he hummed lazily, eyes hooded and he quickly reached in his pocket for his stupid vape, inhaling the artificial sweetness and exhaling into your direction, sugary sweet watermelon filled your senses, and you coughed a little when it made its way to your lungs.

He pocketed his beloved vape, shifting around on his knees, his free hand flat against your hip bone, stretching the skin a little and to keep you nice and steady. He didn’t want anything ruining his little masterpiece.

“You gonna be nice ‘n’ still f’me while I mark ya, honey?” He cooed, “don’t want ya wrigglin’ around, it’ll ruin my work.”

You let out a little sob, but nodded nonetheless, the action earning you a little kiss to your tummy, his chapped lips calming you for just a moment, before getting back into his character.

“Y’ready, baby?” Gator didn’t wait for a reply, instead he went straight in with his blade— the sharp edge sliced into your skin, droplets of blood rose to the surface, beginning to spill over the cut he had made.

You cried out at the sharp sting, head fuzzy and eyes completely glazed over from your salty tears, you managed to stay still, knowing that if you struggled it’d hurt much more.

“Shit, honey, look so good when y’bleedin’” he groaned, keeping a fixed gaze on your cuts, a steady hand guiding his knife slowly, drawing out the process for his pleasure. “Could just eat you right up.”

You gasped at his filthy words, your pussy clenching around nothing, arousal leaking through your underwear, completely saturating them and leaving them a sopping mess.

His eyes quickly flitted to yours before resuming his gaze at your hip.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya, dirty girl.” He grinned, finishing his last few etchings into your skin, the sharp blade stung as it sliced, but you almost missed its touch when he placed the knife on the nightstand.

Gator watched with big eyes, irises swarming darkly and he leaned down to nudge his nose against your hip, your blood smearing across his skin before he flattened his tongue, lapping up your sweet blood in long licks— he swallowed thickly, grinning up at your with lazy, hooded eyes, blood between his teeth and the cracks in his lips. So obscene.

“Well?” He cocked an eyebrow, “aren’t ya gonna take a look?”

You leaned on your elbows, craning your neck to get a good look at your new brand, eyes widening when you saw what he had etched upon your poor flesh.

There, still ebbing with blood were a scratchy pair of initials:

G.T.

#gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman blurb #Joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery blurb #gator tillman fic #gator Tillman #fargo season 5

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munsonluhvr · 17 days

Text

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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thecreelhouse · 4 months

Text

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: It’s been a full week since you and Gator came back into one another’s lives, unwillingly, before ending up snowed in together. Something’s changed enough in the last 7 days leaving you to wonder just how strong your feelings really are for him.

Word count: 8.4k+

CW/Tags: fluff, exploring feelings, language, discussions of harder/taboo kinks (knife and gun play is mentioned), super brief blood play, spit kink, somnophilia, sub!Gator/dom!reader, oral sex (m receiving), handjobs, femdom, brief self esteem/body issues with reader again, body neutrality/positivity, hurt/comfort, Roy Tillman being an absolute waste of space as usual

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: hey y’all!! please heed the content warnings before reading. It’s not incredibly insane and mainly discussing the rough stuff, but I just wanted to add the warnings of rougher kinks just to be safe!! Things are gonna ramp up from here on out, so get ready lmao. Thanks for all the support on this so far, and I hope y’all enjoy <3

Day 7

After catching up on much needed sleep, the rest of your sixth day snowed in with Gator was spent pretty much like the last few days; making up for lost time with updates on each others’ lives, and sex. …. A lot of sex.

Oh, and cleaning the air mattress, and all the blankets after Gator proudly made you squirt. Again.

By the next day, you could feel just how sore your entire body was from everything you and Gator had done since the tension broke. The pain is what wakes you up, and for once, you were up before Gator. He’s sound asleep, steady breaths and occasional soft snoring filling the silence in the room. You can’t take your eyes off of him, hoping to God he was actually asleep; you know it’s kind of weird, but he just looks so… peaceful.

Yeah, because he’s not running his mouth right now.

If you weren’t so attentive to him, you might’ve missed the quick whimper he makes in his sleep, stirring and adjusting himself. His hand subconsciously finds its way to his morning wood, still somehow fast asleep in the process.

Now you really can’t take your eyes off of him. A throaty groan pushes out from behind his lips as his hand unknowingly palms himself. It’s like this for a little bit, but then he moans your name, and you’re gone, just like that.

Yeah, maybe you’re too sore for sex, but that doesn’t mean you can’t play with him.

“… Gator?” You whisper, testing the waters. He gives no response before turning over, facing away from you, moving his hand away from his member in the process.

You let some time pass before he settles down, back into slow, steady breaths. He’s not making any noises now, nor is he squirming or touching himself. As quietly as possible, you shift closer to him, inch by inch, pausing every so often to make sure he’s still asleep. By the time you press against his back, spooning him, he’s still knocked out.

The outline of Gator’s back muscles are ever so slightly noticeable through his white sleep tee; you can’t help yourself, tracing softly along the details. From there, your eyes catch on some of the freckles on his neck, giving into an urge to kiss him softly on those spots. He stirs, but only for a moment, with a content sigh. You bite back a giggle, wondering if this is affecting whatever wet dream he was just having about you.

Your hands wander, tracing over his soft but muscular arms, still in awe at how he’s not the lanky, awkward boy you grew up with. One hand reaches over to the front of Gator, gently palming him. He stirs again, flexing his hips sleepily into your touch as his breathing picks up just a little.

Again, you check to make sure he’s not awake, whispering, “Gator?”

Nothing.

Sneakily, your fingers push past the waistband of his boxers, making contact with the soft, warm skin of his hard-on. Brushing past the tip, you feel precum stick to your fingers, and use that to slowly stroke him with a feather-light grip.

Gator bucks unexpectedly into your hand, and you have to bite back your own moan to keep quiet. He murmurs something incoherent, with your name to follow again. It sounds so sweet coming from him, while he’s unknowingly needy in his sleep. Without much warning, he rolls back over, and you’re quick to move and give him space, hand still on his cock.

Again, you wait for any sign of Gator waking up, but nothing happens. He just goes back to the relaxed state he was in moments ago. You take advantage of the calm before the storm, sliding under the comforter to carefully pull his length through the slit in his boxers. He sighs, but it ends there, so you dribble some spit quietly onto the head, mixing it with his precum with your hand to stroke him again.

Another sigh from Gator, another pause from you. He goes back to being quiet and still, so you begin jerking him softly again, leaning down to suck on his balls at the same time. A heavy breath shudders out of him, but you keep going, keeping things slow and soft. Every so often, obscene sucking noises come from your mouth’s suction on him, and little pleasured noises from him follow.

Gator moans your name again, hips bucking lazily, so you back off, softly kissing along his inner thigh, leaving a trail of spit behind as he calms down. Again, you wait, then go back to work, licking slowly up the underside of his cock, along the pulsating vein, signaling how needy he was without any awareness.

You softly suckle on his tip, humming as you taste him. The vibration of your noise causes him to whine, muttering something like, “Need you,” along with chanting your name a few times. It motivates you to keep going, taking your time as you push your mouth onto his length, hollowing your cheeks out as you feel him reach the back of your throat. You stay there for a moment, trying to suppress the gagging noise begging to escape as you choke on him.

His cock kicks in your mouth, and you have to pull yourself off before you start making louder sounds, but when you do, he whines even louder.

“Don’t stop,” He rasps out, beginning to pant as you start bobbing up and down on his length. “M’god… please don’t stop.”

You throw the covers off of you, checking if he woke up; Gator’s still sleeping, but you can tell he’s on the edge of consciousness by the way his hands grip at the sheets by his sides. He murmurs something quickly about wanting to touch you, pleading if you’d let him. You don’t answer, you just keep sucking him off, humming around him again.

Then Gator says something that throws you off; “Darlin’… please... Untie me… wanna touch ya’…”

You glance at his hands, knowing you never restrained him, but you can’t help groaning on his cock while you watch his fists ball up, frustrated he can’t touch you in his dream. The thought sends blood pumping straight to your core, heat blooming throughout your body. At first, you don’t realize you’ve straddled one of his legs, grinding lazily on him as you deepthroat him, too. Not really even to get off yourself, just needy for some kind of friction. His leg tenses up, causing you to yelp, muffled by his cock in your mouth.

That’s when Gator’s eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as he looks down at the sight in front of him, lifting his head to get a better view. It takes a bit for him to escape the sleepy fog his brain’s in, but when it clears, he finally realizes what’s going on.

“Oh… oh, fuck…” His head falls back onto his pillow, hands reaching up to his face to desperately rub the sleep out of his eyes before looking back at you while you still keep a steady pace on his length with your mouth. You pull off slowly, keeping eye contact as a string of spit drags out from your lips, still attached to the head of his cock.

“Untie you, huh?” You tease before your hand takes over on him, mouth sucking on his balls again. Gator’s eyes cross before rolling back in his head, hips bucking into your firm grip.

“Is- huh? I’m not…” He can’t form a coherent thought, whether that’s from waking up or the pleasure that woke him up, you’re not sure. “You didn’t tie me…”

Your mouth makes a filthy suction sound as you release from his skin, hand stroking him faster. “No, but I kinda wish I did after you moaned about it in your sleep.”

His face goes red with eyes going wide. “Fuck… do I sleep talk? Christ… the fuck did I say?”

You shrug casually before stuffing your mouth again with his throbbing cock, and while it pains him to do so, he grabs your hair, pulling you off of him.

“Tell me what I said,” He demands, but it sounds more pathetic and needy than authoritative. You let spit spill out of your lips and onto his cock, watching it kick on contact as he muffles a groan, biting his lip.

“Gator, you’ll let me go if you wanna finish.” You threaten, quirking a brow with a smirk. His eyes narrow at you, wanting to question you further, but he stays silent, loosening his grip on your hair. “Good boy.”

Those two words drive Gator insane; he grabs your head again, but this time he pushes you back onto his cock, shoving it all the way to the back of your throat as he moans loudly. The way your throat gags and constricts around him makes his eyes roll back. His hips are twitching as he spills his seed into your mouth without much warning. He’s bucking into your mouth sloppily, shoving your face to the hilt. You groan around him, letting the liquid fill your mouth as he rides out his high.

Panting hard, Gator lets go of your head and watches you pull off, his arousal seeping from your lips before you swallow, sticking your tongue out with a smile to show you finished your work.

“Mother’f fuckin’ god….”

“G’mornin’ to you too, sunshine. Didn’t think you’d finish that fast.” You crawl up to him before wrapping yourself around him without thinking, laying on top for a moment, but then you worry you’re going to hurt him, so you begin to move. Gator grabs you and holds you in place.

“Whoever made you feel bad for bein’ on top for anythin’ is a fuckin’ asshole.” He murmurs while his hands wrap around you in return, hugging you close to him. You can feel his heartbeat pumping wildly through his chest. “M’not kidding, gimme names, babe.”

You laugh before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t laugh, though.

“Darlin’, you know you’re beautiful, yeah?”

“Pfffftt. Quit bein’ so sweet just ‘cause I swallowed.” You tease, but again, Gator doesn’t laugh. So you pull back, sitting up a bit to get a better look at his face, gauging his reaction, but can’t quite read him. “Gator?”

“I mean it.” He’s serious, but not stern, or angry. Just sincere. “If I ever said anything—“

“Oh, Gator, no, it’s totally okay. It’s not you…. I mean, I remember your shitty friends teasing me about my hips and stuff in high school, but like… people are just shitty at that age.”

Gator’s expression softens, like a puppy that’s been kicked; he reaches up to your face, and you lean into his palm, eyes closing with a small smile as you feel comfort from his touch.

“M’sorry I didn’t stop them.” His eyes search yours, realizing the hurt you’re covering up.

“It wasn’t just that. Seriously, it’s okay Gator.” You try reassuring him, your own grasp holding over his hand on your cheek. “It took a bit for me to find people I trusted when I moved. I ran into some… not so kind people when I first started dating out there. Obviously the whole ‘Midwest Kindness’ ain’t a thing on the East Coast, but I quickly learned why most folks in the city are easily pissed off; you’d be too if some group of tourists blocked the same sidewalk you’re speed walking down to get to the subway on time for work.” You’re again, making light of things, but all Gator does is give a short laugh.

“But really, aside from that,” You’re elaborating on what he really wants to hear, “some people are just garbage wherever they’re from or wherever they go. Had a couple underwhelming dates that wasted my time. One dude was a real jerk-off”

Gator, while looking puzzled, smirks at the way ‘jerk-off’ sounds with the hint of your stubborn Midwest accent that refuses to die. “Not like you to put up with that shit.” He’s not blaming you for someone else’s shit attitude, just surprised some asshole thought he had the right to ever give you shit.

But then again, he was also an asshole to you for years. Maybe it’s not his place to judge someone else when he’s no better.

“Don’t worry, I kicked his ass to the curb immediately.” You smirk.

“That’s my girl.” Gator praises, chuckling. You roll your eyes playfully.

“Dude couldn’t even find my clit. We literally have the internet at our fingertips, porn available 24/7, but the fucker couldn’t be bothered to learn how to rub one out properly.”

“Now that’s just embarrassin’.” Gator’s smug now, “Meanwhile, some motherfucker from the Midwest made you squirt twice.”

“Gator, if you don’t shut the fuck up—“

“Gimme somethin’ to put in my mouth and I’ll shut up.” He’s grinning like the smug son of a bitch he knows he is.

You tense up, legs wanting to automatically press together as your cunt throbs over his corny innuendo.

“Felt that.”

“I just woke you up with a blowjob, try to be a lil’ more humble.”

“Never,” Gator taunts, sitting up to kiss you softly while you’re still on his lap. He pulls back, looking at you with a smirk. “What do ya’ wanna do today?”

Another eye roll comes from you. “What else is there to do? Pretty sure we’ve run out of ideas since being snowed in.”

Gator thinks for a moment before shooting a mischievous look your way.

“Oh, no. I don’t like that look.” You laugh, shaking your head while you push off of him, but Gator holds you on his lap firmly.

“You’ve seen my porn searches, you should show me yours.”

Another laugh echoes from you. “Gator, I use incognito mode, like a smart, responsible adult.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He’s reaching for your phone on the nightstand, shoving it into your hands. “Just show me what you’re into already.”

———

“You said we didn’t have anything in common,” Gator scoffs, scrolling through the playlist you made on one of the many porn sites under a hidden account. You have to hold back a laugh, watching him with a confused and bitter expression while holding your obnoxiously glitter-smothered phone case, bedazzled with a sparkly pop socket. The contrast is funnier than it should be.

“I might’ve lied a lil’.”

You’re sitting up against the wall on his bed, with a cozy hill of pillows behind you, while Gator lays back on you as he sits between your legs. His head rests on your stomach while he continues scrolling down, stopping occasionally at thumbnails of certain videos, murmuring under his breath a couple times with some profanities, or groans, sexually frustrated and overwhelmed viewing what gets you off.

Gator tilts his head back to look up at you, but his head is practically right under your tits, so that’s all he sees, and snickers. You’d consider it immature, but you’re just as amused as Gator is.

“Oh, my bad,” You comically lift your breasts with your hands, leaning over him to see his face. “These things just get in the way sometimes. Need somethin’?”

Gator suppresses laughter, pointing at your phone screen. “You really like some heavy, rough shit, huh?”

You shrug, teasingly as you let go of your chest, hitting him in the head softly.

“God, I could die happy here,” Gator jokes as he dramatically snuggles back into you, enjoying the way your legs wrap around him, too.

Passing his comment by, you answer his previous curiosity, “Depends on a lot. The situation, if I feel safe, if my partner feels comfortable and safe, too. Where we are, or what toys we have, ‘cause some you can’t just substitute with every day items, y’know?”

Sitting up further, he slots the back of his head in the valley of your breasts, like it’s completely normal. You, on the other hand, find it silly, laughter picking back up.

“What? I’m comfy!” Gator defends himself. “But no. I actually don’t know about that. What do you mean?”

“Well, like, I guess it all narrows down to personal preference and consent, but, for example, you wouldn’t use a regular candle for wax play.”

Gator turns his head, looking over his shoulder at you, brows raised in surprise. “You don’t?”

“Nope, candles made specifically for wax play burn at a lower temperature, and don’t have scents and oils that would irritate skin for some people. Usually soy wax.” You’re kind of enjoying talking about kinks like this. Nothing bad about talking about them during sex, but the two of you got easily distracted several times trying to multitask. Gator’s honestly curious, and the way he’s clueless on at least half of these things in kink has your stomach fluttering from his rare innocence.

Oh, jesus fuckin’ christ, don’t tell me this is a new kink, too.

Gator breaks your internal self scolding with an “ohhhhh, gotcha’.” He swipes up on the screen, stopping on a knife play video, audibly gulping. “So you… you’ve never tried this? You said you didn’t trust anyone enough?”

You shake your head before pressing a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, leaning over his shoulder to look at what has him tense. His hand white knuckles your phone, staring at a thumbnail of masked man balls deep in a woman tied up. He’s got a knife in hand, holding it up, but not against, the woman’s throat.

Distractedly, you lick your lips; Gator notices the action in the corner of his eye. “I- yeah. I mean, fuck, man. Like… I definitely couldn’t ever be the dom in these kind of scenes. Makes me nervous. I don’t even trust myself.”

Gator’s intrigued. “Really? Why not?”

“I dunno… kinda like the riskier kinks more in theory than in practice. But I also like them enough to at least try once. I just haven’t fucked around with anyone I felt totally safe enough to try that. Or gunplay.”

That last bit slips out; you bite your lip, hand slapping over your mouth. You’re looking anywhere else other than Gator’s face as he processes those few words, but you feel him adjust and turn around fully to get a better look at you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wanted to take that one to my goddamn grave.

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he breathes lowly. “You. Of all people. You like gunplay?! You hate guns.” His mouth feels dry and sticky as he dares to ask, “… You ever try that yet?”

‘Yet’. Sweet mother of—

With shallow breaths, you finally reconnect your gaze onto his; Gator’s feelings and thoughts written all over his face. He’s honestly horrified at first, then worried, and not understanding why anyone would find pleasure in something so dangerous, but the more he thought of it, the more it grew on him.

“I still hate ‘em, but there’s just… somethin’…” You trail off as you answer bashfully before slowly shaking your head. “And n- not yet….. you?”

Neither of you realize his hand is on your leg until he’s gripping it like a vise. He forces a throaty cough as he loosens his grasp on you.

“Me ‘neither… never really thought about it till right now, though…” Gator’s voice wanders as his words come out, sounding dazed with lust. “Wh- what do you… what’s it supposed to be like?”

With a shrug, you answer cautiously, “I think it differs from person to person. I guess that’s the case with any fetish… but the thing about gunplay that turns me on is, uh, well…”

He anxiously waits for your finished thought, watching you intently. You nervously chew your lip. “It’s okay, darlin’, you can tell me.” His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering for a bit.

“You promise you won’t judge me?”

Gator sticks out his pinky, like he did the night the two of you got drunk when the storm started. “I promise.”

Hesitantly, you link your pinky around his, and he grips it firmly with his own before releasing. You nod, taking a few breaths to calm down; this was one of those things you kept to yourself, knowing how insane it sounds.

“Um… it’s… okay, I know it’s bad, but the thought of being made to suck a handgun off while someone watches, enjoying how scared I am… it’s so hot. I wish I didn’t think it was.” You’re ashamed as the words leave your mouth, your entire body burning up with embarrassment. You can’t bring yourself to look at Gator, missing the way his jaw drops over your confession. “I think it’s like, hand in hand with the whole CNC kink. At least for me, it is.”

Gator is speechless. His breath hitches, and never releases, looking absolutely broken on the outside. When you finally look at him, your heart drops, regret flooding your body after sharing all of that.

“You good? Fuck. I’m sorry, I shoulda’ kept it to mys—“

“Fuckin’ hell…”

“You said you wouldn’t judge me,” You frown, feeling more shame for sharing your dirty secrets.

Gator shakes his head quickly. “No, no, m’not. I promise. It’s just… really confusin’ that I find it… hot?”

Your frown dissolves as a small, devilish smile plays up on your features. “I like corrupting you, Gator.”

“Don’t take all the credit, freak.” He scoffs with an eye roll, but runs his hands through your hair softly before holding the back of your head with a light, soothing touch. “Aren’t ya’ scared of getting hurt?” His attention is on your well being more than anything.

“I mean… yeah, but I think it’s part of the thrill for me. If it’s with someone I trust, and we’re both consenting in a controlled scene, then I’m into it. I think that kinda goes for everything I like.”

Gator can’t help asking, “You trust me?”

“Gator…”

“You can say no, you can be honest, it’s okay.” He reassures softly, pulling you towards him before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I won’t be offended. Promise.”

You chew on your lip again before answering, “Honestly? I don’t trust anyone, even myself, dom or sub, I think it’s mostly a thing I like in theory. Would I try it with someone I trusted if given the chance? Probably. Do I trust you? Right now? Mostly. Not with anything risky like this, or knife play… but it’s not personal. Just something I really, really want to be sure I do with the right person if ever.”

Gator nods while his grip slides to your hips, beginning to understand you’ve thought this over carefully, too. “Just promise me somethin’?”

“What is it?”

“If this,” he motions between the two of you, “doesn’t last, if ya’ do it with anyone else, be safe. Okay?”

You catch yourself thinking, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else but you. You push the thought away, but Gator notices the way your brows scrunch together.

“What’s up?” He asks, but you duck your head onto his shoulder, not responding as you groan, nervous. He shrugs his shoulders to get you back up, but you don’t move. “Talk to me, darlin’.”

You sit up but can’t look him in the eye, murmuring words into a jumbled mess, “Idon’twantittobewithanyoneelse.”

Gator chuckles, “What was that?” He slips two fingers under your chin, directing your gaze to his gently. “One more time for me.”

Your skin feels like it’s on fire and shivering all at once. “You keep mentioning ‘if things last’… are you trying to say something else?”

“What do you— oh. Oh. No, darlin’. M’sorry if I worded it wrong.” He’s earnest in his tone, giving soft, sweet eyes with a warm gaze. “I just— I didn’t want to assume anything would be more outside of this whole snowed in together thing, that’s all. I don’t wanna tie ya’ down, m’sure ya’ still wanna enjoy yourself when you go back home.”

‘When you go back home.’

You’re baffled by his words. “What makes you think that?”

Gator laughs, but it’s void of much if any humor at all. “‘C’mon, you’ve been having the time of your life out there. I can’t compare to the guys you’ve dated in the city…. ‘Cept that one dude that couldn’t find your clit. He’s got nothin’ on me.” You can tell he’s trying to joke it off, but it’s obvious how the thought of you finding better so easily hurts him.

In the past week, you went from hating one another, to keeping things cordial, to amping up tension you hadn’t even noticed until moments before you touched one another, to fucking each others’ brains out, and now… this.

Nothing’s been labeled. There’s no declaration of any certain feelings, but they’re still there, for the both of you. The sexual tension broke days ago, but there’s still some kind of… romantic tension, hanging heavy in between and over the both of you.

It’s a tension neither of you are certain of how to break, or even address at all.

Sighing, you speak before you can fully think, “Gator… I said I like you. I have feelings for you, y’know.”

Making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, he nods. “I know. I like you too, y’know.”

You so badly want to open up further into your feelings for him, tell him how much you love—

No. No no no no no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re just infatuated for the moment. Nothing more. Just strong, intense feelings that—

“Fuck.” You don’t mean to say that out loud, but you do, and Gator’s smile fades. “Can we… figure this out maybe tomorrow? Or something? I like you, Gator. I really do, despite all the fuckin’ odds and times I wanted to fight you— wait. How are your knees doing?”

That makes Gator actually laugh, “You still get sidetracked easily. Some things don’t change, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“S’cute, always was.”

“Gator.”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine, look,” Gator awkwardly maneuvers to slide his pants down past his knees. He stopped using bandages; the cuts were mostly healed and faded reds and pinks. “They’re actually healin’ a lot faster than I expected.”

“Huh, wonder why that is.” You tease as you run your fingers over the healing cuts, now turning into little speckled scars, and Gator playfully pushes your hand away before he shrugs, kicking his pants off fully.

“Not sure, I think it had somethin’ to do with the angel that wanted to kick my ass but helped me instead.”

“Yeah, you’re right, the guys in the city ain’t like you at all. You’re the corniest man in the world.” You giggle, eyes rolling.

Gator rolls his eyes in return, before tackling you in a hug, pushing you back into the pillows, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“I’ll gladly wear that title with pride if those corny lines still make you smile.” He shoves his face into your neck, blowing raspberries against your skin, earning louder giggles from you.

“Gator! Enough!” You try scolding him, but can’t hold in the laughter.

This. This is what you want. Soft, sweet moments with someone you care for, someone who knows you, in between sex beyond your wildest dreams. What you’ve always wanted, with anyone, but especially with Gator. Just accept it already.

Gator pulls back as he hovers over you, eyes searching yours for a moment. “Alright, alright. I’m done.”

You cover your neck with your hands, laughing nervously as you anticipate more of his nonsense. “You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Promise?”

Gator goes back to tickling your skin, blowing raspberries again along your neck where your hands aren’t covering.

“That’s it, you’re goin’ to jail, bud.” You tease between laughs while he tugs your hands off your neck. “There’s definitely a law against this.”

“Can’t arrest me, I am the law.” He teases in between his actions.

“You are not,” You argue, laughing involuntarily as he continues. “Gator, you’re askin’ for a fight!”

“Yeah, sure sounds like it.” He stops, only to replace his actions with a gentle bite to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden change. “What? No protestin’ now?”

You don’t answer as he nips at you again, earning your breathy gasps while he makes his way up to your jawline, love bites turning into soft kisses.

“Huh, why the sudden change, darlin’?” He reaches the corner of your lips, kissing again, but when you turn your head to kiss him back, he pulls away, again, flashing his smug grin.

“Gator, quit bein’ a tease.” You pout.

He’s about to quip back, but his phone goes off, triggering annoyed groans from both of you. Sitting up as he straddles you, he grabs it and answers, immediately wincing as his dad’s voice shrills through the other end.

“Yeah, the snow’s been bad here, too.” He’s beyond annoyed, and you can tell. He’s been growing more and more fed up over time with Roy, especially in the past week alone. “What? Shovel the entire— are you fuckin’—“

Roy’s shouting something about how disrespectful it is to cuss at your own father, and Gator rolls his eyes. You catch the tail end of his scolding, hearing, “Wouldn’t kill ya’ to be useful, for once.”

To say that angers you is simply an understatement. It’s taking everything within you to not grab Gator’s phone, and scream at his father for all the damage he’s done to his son.

Hell hath no fury like a woman enraged.

Gator can tell you’re ready to snap, and he shakes his head, mouthing, “Don’t. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay, though. It never was. It never will be. What did either of you deserve to have such terrible, manipulative, abusive fathers?

“Yeah. I’m listening.” Gator reluctantly answers, eyes falling shut while he sighs out his anger. “You can’t get one of your guys to bring a plow over? Y’know I can’t get the entire driveway cleared before y’all get back.”

You go to reach for the phone, but Gator leans back further from you, again mouthing “Don’t. Please.” He looks… scared. It pains you to see him so stressed and tortured just simply trying to appease his father’s bullshit. You lean back and nod, and Gator reaches back for your hand, giving a gentle squeeze as a ‘thank you’.

“I ain’t makin’ her do that, that’s not why she flew home, y’know. She didn’t even get to spend Christmas with her parents, because you—“

Gator stops himself, knowing the consequences of his words for either of you wouldn’t be worth it. The yelling continues, and all Gator can do is just take it until Roy’s done with his grown-ass temper tantrum.

Your anger bubbles inside you, ready to spill over, but you’re trying your hardest to keep calm. Gator can fight his own battles, but you know he’s always felt like it was better to let his dad just take things out on him, like an emotional punching bag. It’s hard just letting this slide when all you want to do is take care of Gator.

If you can’t stand up for him, you can at least give him a justified distraction.

Letting go of his hand, you slide your hands down your own body before reaching between his open legs, lightly dragging a finger around his length, still covered in his boxers. Gator looks down at you, covering the phone’s speaker before hissing, “What are you doing?!”

You only smile sweetly in return, flashing false innocence. His eyes narrow as he glares down at you, until you palm him, and he has to bite down hard onto his bottom lip to hold any noise back. A trickle of blood bubbles up from the self-inflicted wound, staining his bottom lip. With his free hand, he grabs both of your wrists together in a firm grasp, jaw set as he grits his teeth, shooting daggers with his stare.

“Yeah. Fine. We’ll shovel the fuckin’ driveway.” Gator’s desperate to end the call because he thinks you’re being a major brat, as usual. Your face falls; you just want him to feel good. He notices the way your attitude shifts, and rushes his dad off the phone. “I gotta go, since you want this damn driveway cleared by hand.”

Roy continues yelling on the other end, but Gator hangs up before tossing the phone aside. His grip loosens along with his jaw, bringing your wrists to his lips, kissing both of them gently. “Fuck, m’sorry baby. Are y’okay?”

Your voice is soft, not scared, but concerned you upset him further. “I’m okay, I’m sorry for touchin’ ya’, I just wanted to help you feel better. Wasn’t tryin’ to brat out this time, I swear.”

Gator pulls you to sit up and hug you tight. “I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

“It’s okay, you had every right to think I was pullin’ some shit, like the first time it happened.” You’re referring to the day the two of you finally broke the tension, and how it was kicked off by you grinding on Gator’s lap as he spoke to his father on the phone. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”

“No apologizin’, I was just overwhelmed, but it doesn’t excuse me bein’ angry.”

“It was kinda hot, though. M’sorry about your lip.” You pull back to look at him, make sure he’s alright.

“Huh?” He touches his lip, fingers pulling away with sticky blood. “Shit, I didn’t even realize.” Gator huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “What were you tryin’ to do anyway?”

Without a second thought, you grab his hand, slipping his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the blood on his skin. You’ve got a look that seems innocent enough on the surface, but by now, Gator knows better with you. His jaw drops a bit while watching you, feeling the warmth and softness of your mouth, noticing the little bit of red tinted spit that dribbles from your bottom lip, onto your shirt.

“We’re- we can wash that later,” Gator murmurs, unable to respond properly to what you’re doing to him while mentally losing it over your actions. You nod and hum around his fingers before pulling them out, now blood free.

“M’kay. Can I make you feel better? Or try?”

He nods quickly, “Yeah, please. If you still wanna—“

“Get up, baby.” You order, but it’s not harsh. As Gator moves, you settle back into the pillows against the wall, holding your arms out for him. As he moves to lean forward, you hold him back by extending your arms, pushing back on his shoulders with your hands. “No, turn around. Like before.”

So, he does that, and settles back against your body, watching the way you wrap your legs around his, lazily pinning them to the bed.

“Gator?” You kiss his neck while your hands splay out onto the tops of his thighs, caressing up and down as far as your arms let you. He shivers under your touch.

“M’yeah?”

“Is it okay if I cuff you this time?”

He chokes on air before nodding wildly. His voice cracks with desperation as he answers “Please. Please.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” He breathes out, willingly placing his arms behind him with ease. “They’re on the f- frame behind you.”

You’re surprised he’s so eager, but you’re not complaining. Reaching through the pillows, your hands hit the cold metal, pulling them off with ease; he kept them unlocked since the last time he used them on you. Your touch is softer than his was when he cuffed you, and you snap them closed loosely, afraid to hurt him.

“Tighter.”

“You sure?”

Gator looks back at you as best as he can, nodding. So you push the metal into the cuffs further, but it’s not enough. He shakes his head, needily asking, “More?”

“Honey, I don’t wanna hurt ya’.” You murmur, kissing his shoulder. He shudders at the combination of your words and touch.

“You won’t. Even if ya’ did, I’d love it. Promise.”

Hesitating, you breathe deeply before giving two more clicks, leaving the cuffs snug on his wrists. “That okay?”

Gator whines, nodding as his wrists move, testing the handcuffs. The metal clinks but doesn’t budge.

Hooking your arms through and under his, you pull him back towards you, as closely as possible. As you pull his boxers down, you ask “If anything’s too much, you promise you’ll tell me to stop?”

“Promise, darlin’“ He rasps while you hold out your hand in front of his face, palm up. Before you can ask, he takes the hint, spitting into your hand.

“You catch on fast.” You praise lowly, spit-covered hand on his half-hard length, softly stroking the liquid up and down the entirety of him. “Good boy.” His cock twitches in your hand. “You like being praised too?”

Gator bites his lip, opening the wound back up right after blood dried over it. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, baby, don’t hurt yourself again.” Your free hand reaches up to his lips, trying to wipe the blood off, but Gator leans forward, sucking your fingers into his mouth, triggering a pleased, relieved groan from him, and a whimper from you. Pulling them out, you drag your blood-tinged-spit-covered fingers down the front of his neck before stopping, hand ghosting around his throat.

Leaning into your grasp, Gator moans while your hand still strokes him at an agonizingly slow pace. “Please?” He sounds so needy and pathetic, and it makes your heart flutter.

Hand closing around his throat with the slightest bit of pressure, his eyes flutter shut while his head lolls back onto your shoulder. He’s panting already, bucking into your hand on his cock; your legs spread his apart and pin him down tighter, keeping him still.

Precum begins leaking from his tip, so you spread it onto his length in the next round of strokes.

“This is what I wanted to do, baby.” You let go of his throat, hand traveling under his shirt to just caress any part of him you can get your touch on. “Just make you feel good.” You purr at the shell of his ear, causing him to shiver and arch his back, flexing himself into your grip further. “I’d love to do this and edge you next time. Would you let me do that to you?”

A strangled gasp echoes through the room. “N- now?”

“No—“

“Now. Please. Please, now. Right now?”

You weren’t expecting him to beg, ever.

“M’not gon’ last long if ya’ don’t.” He strains out, bucking his hips into your fist again. As his back arches again, his hands brush against your core; Gator gives a satisfied hum, feeling how soaked you are. You gasp as the wind’s knocked out of you from just a simple manipulation from his restrained hands.

“Who did this to you?” Gator’s smug at first, until your hand slaps over his mouth, shutting him up fast.

You don’t answer him, just stroke him faster. There’s a sickeningly erotic sound of the mixture of your saliva and his precum on skin; it’s saturating both his cock and your hand, making him writhe and moan.

“Who did this to you?” Your tone is sweet like sugar but your attitude is wicked. Gator clearly can’t answer with your hand blocking his mouth, but he tries to speak anyway. “Baby, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that. Maybe try again, yeah?”

Gator foolishly does try responding again, but once more, his shuddering, needy voice is muffled. His eyes nearly cross when you slow your heavy petting down; he’s jerking his hips, trying to regain friction and pace again, but you slow to a stop.

“I’m sorry, I thought you asked me to edge you.” The kinder your voice is, the more your words and their intent drip with venom. Gator’s face is flushed red under your palm, pent up energy and sexual frustration getting to him. “That is what you asked for, right?”

Your hand stays in place, and all Gator can do is huff through his nose, glowering at you.

“I dunno, babe, you might be more of a brat than me.”

He bites your hand, and you yelp, reeling back.

“Fuck. Fuck. Is this how you feel when I’m in control?” His chest heaves as he catches his breath, still wound up from the unfinished handjob. You begin to worry you’ve done too much.

“Gator, we can stop. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I hurt you at all or upset—“

“I’m fuckin’ pissed…” His words make you wince with guilt until he finishes his thought. “… but fuck, I love it. Is that bad?”

You’re shocked, and honestly confused. “Are you asking if I ever feel frustrated like this when you’re the dom? Fuck. All the time, but it gets me so wet for you. The morning you stopped eating me out to fuck me had me infuriated, but you know how good it felt for us both. Feelin’ that isn’t bad at all, as long as it’s consensual.”

It’s almost laughable, how you’re breaking these feelings down when he’s probably ready to break out of these cuffs if it means he’ll cum faster.

Gator nods breathlessly, turning his head as much as possible to look at you. His lips are swollen with dried blood speckling the bottom one, while his face is still red, eyes darting from your own, to your lips, fixated on both. “M’all yours, darlin’.”

“Yeah? You’re mine?”

He nods while licking his lips. “Kiss me.” He’s begging, not ordering. Not like he’s in charge, anyway.

Your hand softly winds through his hair, and his eyes flutter shut, but he grunts as you pull on his hair roughly.

“Earn it.”

Gator grunts again when your fingers wind tighter within the strands of his hair.

“Open your mouth.” You’re not playing nice anymore. Gator obeys as you tug his head back, spitting into his mouth. He gags but a gravelly groan follows. “Swallow.” Again, Gator listens, so you praise him, “Good boy.”

His cock is still painfully hard, leaking and red with need without your touch.

“Need you,” Gator rasps, trying to struggle against you to get you to make a move. Your hand slithers behind his back, hooking around his arms, still restrained behind him. Your grip tightens, and it causes him to cry out.

“You always need me, babe.” You spit into your free hand, returning to his length to finish what you started. A weak breath shudders out of him as you guide your spit and his precum along his cock. “You always have. Always will. Won’t you?”

“Mhm…” His panting picks back up, along with his hips snapping upward, fucking your hand sloppily. “Feels s’good.” He tries to touch you from behind again, but your grip holds him in place, and he whines. “Wanna touch you too.”

“Next time, honey.” You’re grabbing his balls roughly, then massaging them; the pain and pleasure clouds Gator’s mind. “Look at you, so fucking drunk on just my hand fucking around with you. You’re so fucking easy, Gator.”

“I- I am,” He gasps, groaning in disappointment as your hand leaves, but he bites his lip as you move back to his cock.

“Doesn’t take much to get you hard, huh? But you sure love thinking filthy thoughts.” You’re taunting him, jerking his cock as he tries to writhe, still held down by your legs. “You said we like the same things, but it turns out you were so much more innocent than me. Turns out it’s so fucking easy to corrupt guys like you that like to play pretend; you’re not as tough as you try to seem. You’re falling apart from my fucking hand, babe.”

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” Gator’s consumed by the pleasure, with the degradation dragging him deeper into his own version of sub-space. “Just want you to ruin me, I need you to ruin me.”

“Oh, honey, I know. I know you’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?”

“Y- fuckfuckfuck— yes!” His eyes are clamped shut as your grip speeds up.

“How long have you waited for this?”

“Sin- since— god, please—“ Gator’s so fucked up, so, so very fucked up on the way you’ve got control over him right now. “Before y’moved away. Thought ‘bout you every day for months after watchin’ ya’ leave.”

“What did you think about when you jerked off? What did you fantasize about with me?” Your voice is demanding, and he’s in the palm of your hand— literally— willing to answer anything at this point. Except, he takes a pause, and your hand releases his length; Gator cries out, pained by the loss of your touch. “Answer me.”

“I- I-“ He’s so fucked out, unable to think straight. You laugh at how overwhelmed he is, and it causes his cock to kick with desperation. “This. With you. Switchin’ with you. Makin’ you scream n’ squirt— god, please fuckin’ touch me!”

Your hand hovers over his cock, warmth radiating onto him, but not close enough to feel your touch.

“Keep talkin’, Tillman.” Your fingers teasingly flex above him.

“Never thought ‘bout half the things we did so far, everythin’ I thought of with you wasn’t nearly as- as—“ Chest heaving as his panting becomes shallow, he’s leaning back onto your shoulder, desperate for your attention. “Please, please touch me. M’gonna fuckin’ lose it, darlin’. I wanna do everythin’ with you. I trust ya’ more than anyone.”

“Yeah, I know.” You answer simply with a devilish smile. He grunts, absolutely beyond frustrated, trying to snap his hips into your palm, but your legs keep him in place. “Y’gonna be good for me?”

“Always, I- I- can be so good f’you,” Gator’s practically babbling at this point, ready to scream if you don’t touch him. “Please?”

You’re basking in the glow of this control over him, loving how easy he is to please, how easy he is to ruin. But, you did start this to distract him and make him feel better, so you know you have to end this soon on a high note for him.

You grab him again and begin stroking at the pace you left off. He sighs in relief, melting into you.

“You’re mine, yeah? All mine?” You’ve never sounded so possessive over someone before, but it’s only turning you on more.

“Yeah, yes, m’all yours baby.” He’s nearly drooling on himself as his cock throbs in your hand; he’s close to his high, losing himself in the feeling while his eyes roll back in his head. “I’m yours, I’m—“ A strangled groan cuts him off.

“Y’wanna know somethin’, Gator?” You’re talking softly, before moving to his ear to whisper, “I’m all yours, too. Ain’t no one takin’ that from ya’.”

It’s unexpected, but that is what sets him off, that’s what triggers his climax. His body shakes as he cries out, sounding so damn relieved to finally reach this point. He’s moaning your name, moaning profanities, grunting as he cums all over your hand, all over himself. “Babybabybaby—“

And with that, Gator’s gone. He’s on another fucking planet, spilling himself everywhere, body tensing and trembling as the pleasure strikes through his entire being. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he rides it all out, slinking down against you, resting limp like an old doll on your tummy as the moment of ecstasy fades away into exhaustion.

“Gator, babe, lemme get these off of ya’.” You’re gently pushing him forward, and he groans weakly; you reach for the keys on the nightstand, unlocking the cuffs as fast as you can so he can rest. When you free his hands, he doesn’t move them at first, so you move them around to the front for him. “C’mere, honey.”

You’ve got no clue how the sickeningly sweet pet names continue growing between the two of you, but you’re not mad about it. Not at all.

Gator can’t bring himself to move, so you gently maneuver yourself, slipping off the bed as you lay him back on the pillows. “Gimme a second, ‘kay?” You disappear for a few moments before returning with a towel for him, and begin cleaning him off, keeping your touch gentle and light as best as you can.

With heavy lids and heavy breaths, he watches you reach his cock, taking him into your mouth fully to clean him off. He shouts at the overstimulation, so you keep it quick, licking your lips as you shoot an apologetic smile. He uses the last of his energy to sit up shakily, grabbing you and pulling you close; he’s kissing you in his usual clumsy, yet soft way he always does.

When he pulls back with a dopey, spaced out smile, you speak your mind, “I meant what I said, Gator. I’m all yours. No one, not here, not in New York, can change that.”

All he can reply back with is, “Same,” before falling back onto the pillows, pulling you down with him. Laughing, you fall onto him, and he pulls you on top fully. You don’t second guess it, you don’t fight it, not this time. Your head rests on his chest, where you can hear his wild heartbeat attempt to settle down.

You’re kissing him all over, softly, slowly, praising him in whispers. “You were so, so good, Gator.”

He’s so out of it, almost looking stoned, when he grins at you. “Yeah?” You’re giggling at how zoned out he is. “Thank ya’ for the distraction. Helped lots.”

“Yeah.” You answer, feeling him relax and meld into the mattress, “Always here for you, Gator ”. You’re also feeling exhausted, ready to sleep this off with him. “Even if it’s just for a handjob.” You joke, earning a pinch in your side from him at that before he kisses your cheek.

Before he succumbs to rest, though, he’s mumbling into your neck, “Tomorrow I’m teachin’ ya’ about gun safety.” He pats your shoulder sleepily; he’s serious, but you snort at the way that this is what he’s thinking about after everything that just happened.

“We’re not shoveling the entire driveway?”

“Fuck no, he can fuck off. I ain’t makin’ ya’ shovel the snow. He’s a fuckin’ jerk-off.” You notice your lovely East Coast vocabulary is growing on him.

“Okay, Gator.” You’re stifling more laughter, but he’s laughing too, delirious from wearing himself out with you. “We can worry about that tomorrow. You definitely need a nap now or somethin’.”

Gator doesn’t respond, only soft snores answer back as he keeps cuddling with you on top, lulling you to sleep with him

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman smut #fargo #my fics #part time soulmate full time problem #i know i said like two hours ago id post tomorrow but whoops couldn’t help myself

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spookysteddie · 3 months

Text

Tillmans Girl

18+ Minors DNI

cw: stripper reader, drinking, drug mention, murder mention, oral (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, pet names, slight choking, hair pulling, exhibitionism, biting. (Let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.9k

A/n: this is based off of the song Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain (pre warned about this here) and I need to make it very clear that this is LOOSELY based off of the song. It’s more about how I feel while listening to it and how I fit the reader and Gator into this. I also let Gator have some friends because he needs them for the story purpose. I love the concept I came up with and I hope you do too!

A/N 2: friendly reminder this is fiction and half the shit in here wouldn't happen IRL. ❤️

…

He was here again.

Sitting in his usual spot, surrounded by his friends and drinking shit beer. And he’s watching you, like he always does. Like he has since he first came in here a little over a year ago, dressed in his sheriff's uniform to investigate a murder.

And now, he’s here every Saturday, just watching. He isn’t the first guy to come to this club for you. He isn’t even the tenth. But he doesn’t speak to you like the others do, not more than he needs to and typically you’re the one to instigate the conversation.

Gator Tillman has a pull to him, like he’s the sun and you're a planet in his orbit. You don’t know why he makes you feel the way he does, like you need to touch him. Every time you meet his eyes, he’s already looking back at you. It is unnerving but yet you look forward to Saturday nights. Look forward to the attention (and money) he gives you.

Even an hour outside his home town everyone knows who he is, of course they do, half their parents voted for his father. Plus, you’ve all heard the stories about the Tillmans. You knew what you were dealing with when he came in. The other girls are afraid of him, though. They’re sure to make his and his friends drinks correctly and letting them all break a few rules, like touching the dancers. But not you. Gator Tillman didn’t scare you like he should, mainly intrigued you. It’s been a year of this cat and mouse game. You the cat, him the mouse, toying with him in the hopes he’ll ask for more time with you.

His friends do get dances, most of them picking a new girl every week and tipping them well. But not Gator. The girls have tried to get him to buy dances from them, but he always brushes them off. All while staring at you. You’d never offered, again letting him come to you. But you also didn’t do private dances. You made most of your money on the stage, not really feeling like killing someone if they got handsy with you.

Tonight though, was different.

You could feel it in the air the second you saw him. The charge was there as usual, but when you handed him a drink after your stage time, he spoke to you.

His voice was like silk as he spoke, pushing his dark sunglasses onto the back of his hat. It was night time so he kind of looked like a douchebag with them on. He didn’t care. He was a Tillman, just as cold blooded as his father, if not more. Obsessed with his power and the way people fell at his feet, gave him whatever he wanted.

But not you.

Never you.

“You look very nice in red, sweetheart.” It takes you by surprise but you do well to not show it, a practiced mask. Never has he spoken to you for more than a drink order.

You did, however, look nice in red. But it was rare you wore it because you didn’t need to give the men more reasons to want to touch you. You made plenty of money in any other color. Red, also was the color of the invisible blood that stains your fingers. The blood you can’t get off no matter how hard you try.

You put on your prettiest smile, “that’s very sweet of you.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He’s fucking beautiful and it’s painful to look at him, actually.

“You do dances?” The question takes you by surprise because, like you said, he doesn’t get dances from the girls. He just drinks and tips very well.

You cover it well, “only for you.”

It’s not a lie. You would do dances just for him, any reason to get him closer. To get him alone.

He nods, “how much?”

You smirk, “$350.” That was way more than the other girls charge. It’s North Dakota, it’s rare the men here can afford that.

But he can.

“Deal.” You watch as he pulls the money from his pocket, counting it out and handing it to you.

You count it again just to be sure, slipping it in your top, “follow me, pretty boy.”

He takes his drink and downs it before getting up and following you. He walks with confidence but you know better. He’s nervous, you can see it in the slight tremor of his hand. You decide you’ll let him break the rules, but not because he’s Roy Tillmans son.

No, it’s because you have wondered for months what his hands feel like on your skin. You’ve also wondered what it would be like to get him in your bed; what he sounds like when he fucks. You know he’s more than experienced considering people like to talk. But you want to see it for yourself. You need to experience it for yourself.

You take him to one of the private rooms, the red room considering he likes you in red. He sits down tentatively, running his hands down his jeans. He’s so hot when he’s nervous. It makes you smile as you shut and lock the door.

The music is a little quieter in here, the small knob on the wall allowing you to turn it higher or lower. Some of the girls don’t like these rooms, scared they’ll get hurt by the men they bring in here. It’s understandable, most opting to give them in the room where extra security is.

But Gator would never hurt you.

“Surprised you asked for this, pretty boy.”

He takes a deep breath and leans back, “like I said, look nice in red.”

You slowly walk over, standing between his spread legs, “too kind to me, Tillman.”

He balls his fists as he tries to respect the law of not touching strippers. But Gator was the law, he could do whatever he wanted. His father would get him out of any shit he gets himself into. Either way, you’d let him touch you in any way he wants.

You bend at the waist, running your hands up his thighs. His breath hitches a little and it makes your stomach flip with satisfaction. He’s affected by you, you’ve known this for a while. But the verbal confirmation makes your head spin.

Your hands slide over his stomach and onto his shoulders, pushing off his black leather jacket. “Let’s take this off and get comfortable, yeah?” He lets you take it off and toss it to the side. His black shirt grips his body perfectly, showing off his muscular build.

You stand back up to your full height, turning the music up just slightly, enough for you to hear him if he decides to speak to you. And then you go back to him, dipping low and letting him run his eyes all over you. For once it makes you feel sexy. Maybe it’s because Gator isn’t an animal. He’s respectful. Or, well, as respectful as one can be in a place like this.

You look up at him through long lashes as you straddle his hips, being careful not to let your centers touch. You don’t want to force anything on him, scare him away. But you do run your hands up his arms, putting his hands on your hips.

“Can touch me. You’re the exception to that rule,” you giggle and wink at him.

You can see his confidence starting to rise. Typical man who just wants to feel special. Gator, though, deserves to feel special. You didn’t grow up with him, between living one town over and your parents opting to send you to private school. But people talk. You know about the shit his dad does, how he uses religion and intimidation to keep his son in line. It was sick.

He grips your hips, guiding you down to grind against him. He’s hard, of course he’s hard, all of them are. They can try all they want but their cocks have a mind of their own. You can tell he’s worried about it, about how you’ll feel. You don’t care. You never care. In fact, the friction on his hard cock on your clit feels… nice.

“Why am I the exception?”

You grin down at him, hands by his head on the couch, “use your big boy brain and think about it.”

He laughs a little, “cause you’re afraid of me?”

That makes you throw your head back and laugh hard, “oh, pretty boy, neither you or your daddy scare me. In fact, I’d be more than happy if you put me in cuffs.”

He’s taken by surprise at your admission, shuddering a little, “should be ‘fraid of me.”

You stand, turning the lights a little lower, “it’s you who should be afraid of me.”

You can still see him, even in the dim, red lights. Fuck he was so beautiful. You start back your dance, his eyes still looking over your body.

“I ain’t afraid of anything, angel.”

You know that’s a lie. He’s terrified of his daddy, and everyone is afraid of death. But you brush it off, getting so close to him you could kiss him if you wanted. And you do, but you won’t let him know that. Not yet.

“You, Gator Tillman, are the exception because everyone here thinks you’re so pretty.”

He raises a brow, “pretty? Not the word that should be used f’me.”

You shrug, “agree to disagree.”

“I was told ya don’t do dances,” his voice is gravely and you know he’s doing everything he can to not kiss you. “Decided to ask anyway.”

You pull back settling in his lap, not dancing anymore, “I don’t, but like I said, you’re the exception.”

He hums, letting his hand run up your thigh, “I’m honored. Prettiest girl in this building.”

“Flattery, Tillman, won’t get you much round here.”

He smirks, the look making you want to kiss him just a little more, “will get me the ability to take ya home?”

You think the shots he took some time ago are finally hitting him. Or he’s snorted some cocaine and it’s just hitting him. Probably the former.

“M’not supposed to go home with the customers. Sorry, pretty boy.”

Not a lie. You aren’t supposed to go home with the men here, both for fear of being murdered and because it can cause issues for the owner. The girls too, of course. God forbid you date a patron and then break up. It’s just awkward for everyone here.

His hand slides further up your leg, resting right under the crease of your ass. Men have been killed for touching you there without asking. But this time it doesn’t make your blood boil like it should. It makes your stomach flip and your heart race.

“I’m the law, baby. The rules don’t apply to me,” he’s looking up at you with big brown eyes, though they look black in this light.

The rules don’t apply to him, you told him as such earlier. You remind him as such and he squeezes your hip. You swallow the squeak that threatens to come out, instead moving to straddle him once again.

“Come on, baby, we’ve been playing this game for a year. Come home with me.”

You swallow. You would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to go home with him. To let him get the rest of your clothes off and fuck you. For him to slide his cock down your throat while you’re on your knees.

You know it would feel good. You know you’d enjoy whatever he threw at you, enjoying men who are rough but respectful. And by the feel of the hardness nestled on your clothed core, he could throw a lot at you.

You can feel your mouth water at the idea of what he looks like under his pants. But he’s going to have to work harder if he wants you to go home with him.

“Gonna take more than that to get me in your bed, Gator.”

He thinks, hands roaming to grab the fat of your ass, “I could give you everything, angel. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You giggle a little, “yeah? Anything?”

He nods, licking his lips, “anything. I’d give you anything. Could treat you real nice.”

“How do you know I don’t already have someone treating me real nice? Hmm? Bold of you to assume I’m single,” you raise a brow at him. You’re lying through your teeth, making him work for it.

“Trust me, baby, I know you’re single.” His eyes fall from yours to your lips and back.

You get a little closer, his scent masculine and woodsy, “doing research on me?”

That should be creepy, it should result in a knife in his neck (it might’ve happened a time or two..) but not with him. However, you know why he did the research. He had to after the murder last year, to rule you out as a suspect.

“I did. So, you can’t lie ya way out of it. Lemme treat you right, pretty angel.”

“I’m no angel,” your voice is just above a whisper, enough for him to hear you.

He laughs, “agree to disagree.”

He slides his hands to your hips, squeezing gently.

“And if I say yes to goin’ home with you? Will you hurt me?”

“No more than you ask me to.”

You decide you can’t take it anymore, needing him too much. You’ll curse yourself later for folding too easily. You close the gap, a whole year of the chase coming to a head. The second your lips connect with his you feel like you’re on fire. He kisses you softly, nervously and it isn’t till your tongue begs for entrance into his mouth, that he kisses you harder.

His hands are all over you, running up your sides and letting his fingers tangle in your hair. You rock your hips absentmindedly, needing more friction.

Gators lips move down your throat, kissing and nipping at the skin and making you moan. He smirks against you and gently lips his hips to add more pressure. Fucking asshole. You grab his face, pulling him back to your mouth, your tongue licking into his mouth.

He pulls back first, breathless, “I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Your stomach flips again because you love when a man begs for you. Especially men in powerful positions. You feel his confession right in your core.

“A Tillman begging? What would your daddy say about this?” You’d never say a word to his daddy about this, of course. Roy Tillman can kiss your ass.

Gator, of course, also knows this, “I don’t care what he’d say. He doesn’t need to know what I do when I’m off work.”

You smirk, you’re more than willing to let him inside you. But first, you needed to see what you were working with. You slither to your knees, looking up at him, “this okay?”

He nods, only giving you a verbal answer once you lift your brows, “yes. Please.”

Your hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and popping the button of his jeans. You can feel his cock jump in his pants and you swallow down a giggle. It’s cute how excited he is actually. You’d be a liar to say you aren’t excited. It’s been a while since you had sex with someone and it’ll be the first time you’ve fucked someone at your job. You’re glad there are no cameras in this room because you’d absolutely get fired.

You pull his jeans and boxers down till they puddle at his feet, allowing his cock to spring free. You can’t contain your reaction to the sight of his cock. He’s huge, his cock thick and has a slight curve. It’s beautiful and you feel dumb admitting that to yourself. It’s not the first you’ve seen but it’s definitely the prettiest you’ve seen.

“Wow…” you whisper it but you know he heard you by the smile that spreads across his face.

“You like it?” He’s cocky and it’s clear you aren’t the first girl to react this way.

You just nod, gently gripping it in your hand. The weight of it makes your mouth fill with spit. You lean forward, licking a long stripe up it. He lets out a long moan, his head falling back against the couch.

You smirk to yourself before taking him into your mouth. You work slow, making sure your throat is relaxed. You bob your head slowly, looking up at him as you work and for the first time he’s not looking back at you. He looks so pretty like this, head thrown back, hands balled into fists.

“Fuck… this is s-so much better than I imagined,” his voice coming out rough and strained.

You just moan against him, bobbing your head a little faster and taking him a little deeper. He hits the back of your throat and his head snaps down to you. The second your eyes meet his cock jumps in your throat, making you gag slightly.

“Ah! That’s it, baby,” his hands fall into your hair, pulling and pushing you into his cock.

You can’t help the moans that leave you from the pain of his hands in your hair. You know your cunt is soaked, your clit throbbing. So, you take him deep and hold him there, letting spit drool from your mouth and onto what you can’t fit in your mouth before pulling off of him. You lick your lips as you stand and straddle him.

“How bad do you want to fuck me?” You kiss him lightly, just a taste.

He takes a shaky breath, “s-so bad. Been thinking about it since the first time we met.”

You pull your panties to the side, settling down so he’s resting against you. The head of his cock bumps your clit the second to start to rock your hips. The friction feels incredible against your aching clit.

You need more but you’re trying not to rush it.

“Been thinking about being inside me for over a year huh? Such restraint you have, pretty boy.”

He shakes his head, letting out a small grunt, “I-I didn’t. S’why m’ here every Saturday. Gotta get my fill of ya for the week.”

“Yeah? You sound a little obsessed.”

He nods, “j-just a little.”

You sit up on your knees using your hand to steady his cock and look up at him, “you still want this? You can say no and it’ll be fine.”

He shakes his head so fast, you’re worried he’s gonna get whiplash, “no! Please fuck me. Please. Need it so fuckin’ bad. B-but I didn’t bring a condom with me. I-I’m clean I swear. I-If that ain’t okay I’ll survive. But I really wanna fuck you.”

You kiss him softly, loving the consideration and to stop his rambling, “I’m more than clean and I’m on birth control. Is that okay? Still wanna continue. I do if you do.”

He lets out a breath and relaxes, “that’s fine. I promise.”

It’s all the conformation you need before slowly sinking down on him. All you have inside you is the tip and already the burn hurts so good. Gators hands grip your hips, mouth falling open as he helps you sink down more.

“Oh my god, Gator,” you feel like he’s in your throat and you don’t even have him all the way inside you. He’s everywhere all at once and you love every second of it.

Gator pulls you down more and captures your lips in a deep kiss. And then, he thrusts up inside you, seating himself fully inside your tight pussy. The action pushes all the air from your lungs, making you pull back from the kiss. You decide then that if you died this way, you wouldn’t be pissed.

Even if God decided to bitch about all the sins you’ve committed.

That is, if you even go to heaven. You doubt you will at this point.

Whatever.

Gator stays still, letting you adjust and letting you rest your head on his chest to catch your breath. It’s slow to come back but once it does, you lift yourself and slam yourself back down.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He’s loud and you're glad the club is loud enough that no one can hear you. Not that you’re opposed to that, but again, people like to talk and you aren’t keen on ending up in an unmarked grave. Gators daddy would kill you if you spread rumors that make Gator look like the sinner he is.

You do it again, finding a rhythm, “you like that, pretty boy?”

You slide your hands into his hair, loosening the strands there with a hard tug. He groans, his hips bucking up and hitting against your cervix. You’ll probably be bruised there tomorrow but that’s not your issue at the moment.

The curve of his cock hits your sweet spot perfectly, making you whine and ride him faster.

“Uh-huh. S-so tight and warm and perfect,” he’s rambling but it’s cute. “D-didn’t think we’d ever do this.”

You smile, pulling a little harder at his hair, strands falling loose from their usually gelled place. “Paid me a lot of money, baby. Gotta treat you special.”

“I-isn’t that prostitution?” He pushes out a breathless laugh.

You can’t stop the giggle that comes out of you either, “maybe. But only if we say it is. I was j-joking.” You lean forward, changing the angle to hit that spot a little harder, “dedication got you here. And of course you’re so pretty. Prettiest boy.”

Gators hand slides from your waist and finds your clit with ease, thank god. He uses his thumb to draw small circles, making that coil grow tighter and tighter.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll cum before you do. C-can’t have that.” He plants his feet and sets the pace. He fucks you hard and fast. It feels so fucking good and you know this isn’t the last time you’ll be doing this.

Can someone get addicted to another's cock?

Yes is the only right answer considering how all you can think about is Gators cock and chasing your orgasm.

“Such a gen-gentleman, Gator.”

“Only for you, angel. Only for you.”

The band inside you snaps, your orgasm slamming into you hard.

You cry out, leaning forward to bite Gators shoulder and muffle your screams. That is what pushes Gator over the edge, emptying inside you. Thank god for birth control. You both deflate, him growing soft as your cunt spasms with aftershocks.

Gator breaks the silence first, “gonna let me take you home and take care of you?”

It makes you laugh but you do think about it, weigh the pros and cons. “If I agree, you can’t ever come back here again. S’a rule not to date our customers.” You sit up so you can see his face, judge his reaction.

A slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face, “deal! Won’t need to see you here when you’re coming to sleep in my bed.”

All you can do is laugh and kiss him, deciding this time, you won’t have to murder a man you dated.

#gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman imagine #joe keery fargo #fargo fanfic #fargo spoilers #fargoedit

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 3 months

Text

Badge Bunny Meet Ugly

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.

Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Word Count: 14.5K

Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.

Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.

“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.

It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.

The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.

It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.

It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.

Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.

“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.

“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”

“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”

“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”

“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.

“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.

Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.

It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.

You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.

The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.

You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.

The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.

“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.

Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.

“Evening, Officer…”

“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.

“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.

“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”

“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”

You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.

“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”

He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.

You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.

Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.

You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.

“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.

“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”

“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.

He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.

The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.

“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.

"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.

"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”

"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”

"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.

You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.

The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”

“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”

“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.

“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”

“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”

“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”

“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”

The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.

No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.

The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.

Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.

“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.

“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”

“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”

Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.

You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.

“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.

“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”

“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.

“Thanks Maggie.”

You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.

He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.

Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.

Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.

Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.

The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.

You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.

Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.

He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.

“This happen often?” You asked him.

“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.

You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.

It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.

One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.

He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.

His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.

Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.

You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.

Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.

You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.

With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.

You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.

Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.

“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”

So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.

“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.

He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.

“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.

You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.

You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.

“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.

“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.

You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”

“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”

“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”

“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.

“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.

“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.

“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.

You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.

“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.

“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.

“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.

He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.

“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”

He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.

He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.

You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.

Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.

You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.

You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.

He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.

Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.

He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.

He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.

He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.

He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.

It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.

The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.

Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.

Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.

Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.

You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.

The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.

“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”

He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.

“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.

“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”

“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.

He shook his head and watched you go.

“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?

The following week he seemed to be everywhere.

He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.

A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.

The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.

You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.

“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.

He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.

You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”

“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.

He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.

“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”

“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.

“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”

“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.

You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.

As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”

You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.

“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.

“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.

“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”

“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.

“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”

“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”

“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.

“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?�� You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?

“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.

He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.

“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”

You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.

“And you think you're just the man for the job?”

“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.

Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.

“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.

His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.

“Have a good night, Deputy.”

You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.

Two weeks.

Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.

Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.

You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.

“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.

He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.

It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.

It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.

Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.

Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.

Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.

Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.

“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.

His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?

“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.

His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.

“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”

He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”

“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.

“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.

“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.

“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.

“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”

He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.

He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.

“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”

“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.

He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.

He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.

There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.

He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.

“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.

There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.

“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”

That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”

You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.

Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.

You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.

You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.

“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.

He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.

He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.

He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.

“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.

“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.

“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.

“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.

“What? What are you…”

“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”

The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”

He sat quietly for another moment.

“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”

You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.

“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.

He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.

“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.

He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.

Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.

It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.

“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”

He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.

He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.

You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.

He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.

His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.

He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.

His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.

Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.

You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.

It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.

He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.

You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.

“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.

“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.

His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?

As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.

He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.

You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.

He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.

You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.

He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.

You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.

“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.

“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”

This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.

“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”

You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.

He pulled back slightly to look down at you.

“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”

His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.

Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.

His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.

You were positively soaked, glistening before him.

Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.

He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.

“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.

He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.

You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.

“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.

“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.

“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.

You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.

“Please what baby?”

You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.

“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.

He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.

He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.

He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.

Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.

He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.

You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.

“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.

He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.

He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.

Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.

He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.

Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.

“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”

Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.

The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.

Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.

He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”

Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.

“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”

He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.

His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.

He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.

“You good?” He finally asks.

There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.

You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.

He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.

“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.

“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.

He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.

“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.

“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”

You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”

You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.

“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.

He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.

“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.

“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.

“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.

He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.

At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.

“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”

You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.

“Ok big boy, let's go.”

The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.

“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.

“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.

“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.

“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.

You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.

You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.

“I know it's not much,” you began.

“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.

He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.

He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.

For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.

As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.

You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.

Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.

“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.

You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.

Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.

“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.

You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.

He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.

His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.

He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.

“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.

“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.

You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.

“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.

You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.

His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.

You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.

You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.

You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.

As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.

“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.

It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.

“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”

“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.

“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.

You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.

You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.

He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.

You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.

You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.

“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.

He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.

“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.

He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.

“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.

“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.

He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.

He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.

The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.

You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.

You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.

“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.

His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.

“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.

His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.

“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.

“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.

Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.

He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.

Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.

He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.

He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.

“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.

You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”

His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.

The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.

He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.

“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.

“You sure?”

“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”

He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.

“What are you…?”

“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”

You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.

“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.

He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.

You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.

“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”

You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.

His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.

“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”

“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.

He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.

When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.

He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.

He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”

“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.

You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.

“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.

“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.

He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.

“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”

He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.

“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.

“Yes! Cum in me!”

“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”

His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.

He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.

He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.

Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.

“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.

“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.

His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.

“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”

He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.

He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.

“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”

It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.

“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.

You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.

When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.

Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.

Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.

The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.

You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.

You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.

Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.

He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.

He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.

Where the fuck are you?

He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.

He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.

Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.

He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.

He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.

He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.

You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.

You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.

Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.

You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.

You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.

You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.

Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.

Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.

One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.

He had responded to your text later that day with:

Sure bunny. you free tonite?

You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.

It had been like that most nights since.

There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.

Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.

You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.

And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.

You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.

He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.

His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.

He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.

“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.

Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.

“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.

“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.

He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.

You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.

The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.

You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.

After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.

He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.

“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.

“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.

“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.

“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.

“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.

Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.

It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.

A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.

It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.

It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.

The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.

You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.

Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.

You still in town?

Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.

Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.

Can we talk?

I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?

Hello?

You groaned, sitting up.

Finally relenting and typing out a reply.

You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.

It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.

You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.

You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.

“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.

Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.

“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.

“Move Gator.” You hissed.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.

“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”

You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.

“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.

Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”

“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”

“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.

If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.

If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?

“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.

He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.

You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.

“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”

You brought a finger to his lips.

“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.

“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”

You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?

You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.

His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.

Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.

He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”

“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.

“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.

He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.

“Fuck, so wet.”

“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.

He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.

Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”

Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.

He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.

You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.

He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.

“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.

Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.

The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.

“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”

“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”

You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.

Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.

“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”

He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.

He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.

“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.

Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.

“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”

You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.

“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.

He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”

“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.

“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.

“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.

You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.

He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.

He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.

It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.

After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.

The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.

He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.

You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.

He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.

The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.

As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.

You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.

“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.

“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.

“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”

“I haven't thought about it.”

He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”

He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.

“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”

He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.

“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”

Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.

You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.

He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.

“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.

“You'll see. C'mon.”

You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.

“Whose house is this?”

“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.

It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.

“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.

“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.

“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”

“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.

"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”

"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.

"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."

"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”

You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.

“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.

“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.

No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.

Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.

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