#Gator Tillman imagines

[stevesxyellowxsweater]

The one hiding under your stairs

PAIRING: Gator Tillman x fem!reader WC: 3k CW: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!! Female masturbation, friends with benefits, use of sex toys, oral (m receiving), mask kink, brief mentions of daddy/mommy kink, praise kink, spanking, Gator needing to be a winner, cream pie, anal penetration, mentions of biting and marking skin. I think that is everything please let me know if I missed anything. SUMMARY: You and Gator have been hooking up for a while, but when he doesn't reply to your text one night you assume it's you and your toys tonight. Little do you know that he has a surprise for you. AUTHOR NOTES: This came into my head the other night, and I couldn't help myself. Thank you to those who supported and encouraged me to write this. Especially big thank you to @entermxnson for being amazing and reading all my stuff. Credit to @cafekitsune for the amazing divider.

You and Gator had been fuck buddies for about six months now. Neither of you had time for a real relationship, seeing as he was so much under his Daddy’s thumb and you were busy with work. It was a simple setup; when one of you if you had an itch. You'd text each other and then meet up at your place.

That was the usual setup. Today, however, Gator didn’t reply. 

You'd sat on the couch, time passing so slowly. Your desperation to be touched grew with each passing minute until you gave up. Gator wasn't coming. He had blown you out tonight. Shutting up downstairs, you checked the house over before going upstairs. Your sex toys were clearly going to be what cured your itch tonight.

Stripping off, you climbed onto the bed and pulled out the dildo and your clit stimulator and lay down on the bed. Though you'd never deny that you enjoyed your touch, something about getting off because of Gator was much more enjoyable. 

Lying on the bed, you picked up the dildo and began to rub it against your wet folds. Soft whimpers left your lips as you felt it against your already wet folds. Your free hand moved up to your breast and began to play with your nipple. It felt so good, but you couldn't help but feel sad that Gator hadn't come over tonight.

Moving the silicone penis against your hole, you pushed it inside, moaning gently. “Gator.” You whimpered gently. It wasn't as big as his cock, but still, it filled you up nonetheless. Pumping it slowly, you reached for the clit stimulator and turned it on before bringing it down to your clit.

Moaning, you closed your eyes. Pumping gently with the vibrator and rubbing against your clit with the smaller one. Gentle mews left your lips as waves of pleasure rushed through your body. 

“Mmm, Gator.”

“Yes?”

Your eyes shot open to see Gator standing at the end of your bed; your heart pounded hard as you looked at him. He was near enough in complete darkness if it wasn't for shafts of light trickling through the curtains to illuminate his face. But it wasn't his face. It was a large white skeleton mask. Jack Skeleton. 

Biting your lip, you gazed at him nervously but excited. You began to stop pleasuring yourself and focused on him as he took off his jacket and threw it on the chair in the corner.

“I don't remember telling you to stop.”

A whimper fell from your lips as you returned to pleasuring yourself as you watched him removing each item of clothing other than the mask. 

“Not removing it?” 

“No, tonight I’m the Pumpkin King tonight.” 

Biting your lip, you nodded your head gently as he pulled his pants off and threw them across the room. Your eyes raked down his perfectly crafted body. You’d desired him all day, and to have him here now made you incredibly excited. 

The bed dipped as he moved onto the bed; his hand took hold of the small toy for your clit and dropped it off the bed.

“We won’t be needing that.” 

Gator husked as he thrust the dildo harder into you, causing you to moan loudly. You could see the lust in his eyes as he watched you. There was something about how his eyes watched you, about how his big hands touched your skin. He set your skin on fire. Each touch left heat running up your body from where he put his hands.

He climbed up your body, his hands trailing as he moved up to be sitting on your chest. You gazed up at him, his giant cock in your face. Leaning up, you licked along the thick throbbing vein, causing him to moan. 

“Good girl.” He whispered as he took your hand and used it to hold the vibrator inside of you while his fingers moved to your clit. Moaning as he began to rub your clit, you lifted your head and moved your tongue to lick the precum from the tip of his shaft. 

“That's it, baby.” He whispered as you began to take him in your mouth. His free hand moved to grip the headboard as he rubbed circles on the little nub between your legs, waves of pleasure from his touch and desire from having him in your mouth washed over you. 

Muffled moans left your lips as he began to thrust into your mouth. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He uttered as he moaned, feeling the back of your throat. “Are you going to take me all in?” He asked as he looked down at you, his head tilting to the left. 

Staring up at him, you couldn't help but think about how sexy he looked in that mask. Nodding softly, you felt him push further into your mouth. You were careful not to gag, holding back as he thrust down your throat.

“That's it, take me your pretty little mouth.” He moaned as he thrust in and out. His eyes focused on you, and you could tell he was smirking. The mask was taking away some of the enjoyment, but he did look very good with it on. His fingers moved from your clit, causing you to whine. “Shhh, rub.” He ordered with a stern tone as he took hold of the dildo. Whimpering gently, you nodded and began to rub your clit as he began to thrust the dildo in and out. Any other guy you would’ve been surprised if he could reach, but not Gator and his long arms and big hands. 

As you continued to suck his cock, you could feel yourself starting to come undone below him. It was like someone was tightening an elastic band in your stomach, stretching it till it was ready to snap. Pulling your head back, you looked at him as you removed his cock from your mouth. “I need, I need to cum.” You whispered, his eyes shifting from his job to you. 

Gator smirked as he looked down at you. Well, you assumed it was a smirk behind that mask. “Do you now, darling?” He asked as he moved his hand to touch your cheek. His fingers ran down your jaw as he watched you. “You better cum then, this is the only time I’m going to allow you to easily.” 

You began to rub your clit harder, desperate for your orgasm to hit you. You knew Gator, and you knew how long he could hold back an orgasm if he felt particularly like teasing you. It was one of those rare moments where Gator felt generous. You’d take it. 

“Time is running out.” He uttered as he moved his hand from your cheek to rub his shaft a little. “One of two things will be happening right now, either I’m coming on your face, or you’re going to cum,” You were close. You needed this release before you carried on. Why did he have to tease you so much? 

“I’m close, so close.” Gator watched you as he thrust the dildo deep inside of you. “Come on then, for me.” He told you before he pushed it hard in once again. Gasping, you felt him hitting the right spot. The elastic band inside you snapped. “Shit, G-gator!” You stammered out as you tried to continue to rub your clit as he thrust the dildo inside of you. “Good girl.” He husked, his eyes fixated on the face you made as you orgasmed. 

His thumb moved up into your mouth while you came undone under him. He couldn’t stop smirking, enjoying how you unravelled under him. “That’s it, good girl.” He whispered, causing your body to shiver as he praised you. You’d never really been into praise until Gator. How he would tell you that you were good at doing things always made you melt. 

Your body shook as you came down from your high. Gator moved down your body and removed the dildo from your wet cunt. Turning it off, he threw it on the ground and looked at you. “Mine.” He whispered as he pulled off his mask and leaned down to capture your lips. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you kissed him back with a certain kind of hunger. He tasted of that awful vape he was constantly sucking on. Strawberry kiwi or whatever this week's flavour was. His tongue found its way into your mouth. A battle for dominance began inside your mouth, and you would let him win, as you always did. But at this moment, you just wanted to put up a fight. 

Pulling from the kiss, he moved his lips down to your neck. You knew what was coming. He did this every time you ended up in bed together. Gator would bite down on your neck, leave a mark to make it clear that you were his, even if you weren’t a couple. Gator liked to make men aware that you’d been with him. 

He bit into you like you were an apple. A moan fell from your lips as you felt his teeth sinking into your flesh. “Gator.” You whimpered, closing your eyes for a moment as you felt Gator suck and make sure that his teeth were nice and deep enough to leave a bruising mark. “Thank you.” You murmured as he pulled back and looked down at you. There was always a sense of pride when he did that. You have learnt to enjoy it. 

He smirked, as he pulled back a little to look down at you. These moments always make you feel like Little Red Riding Hood being looked at by the hungry big bad wolf. He was the big bad wolf, and you didn't mind when he huffed and puffed and ate you all up.

His hand moved down between you as he lined his cock up with your entrance. With one crack of his hips he was inside you. The pair of you moaned in unison, him enjoying the way your walls hugged him tightly and you enjoying the way you felt so full when he was inside you.

“That's it, fuck yes.” He uttered as he looked at you. “I'm a winner, what am I?” Looking at him, you smiled, your hand moving to his cheek. “You're a winner.” You assured him and he nodded. “That's right!” He exclaimed as he began to move at a fast rough pace. “What am I?” He said with a moan. “A winner!” You cried out loudly as he pushed deep inside you.

His hands moved to take hold of your wrists, pinning you in place below him as he gazed at you. You knew what he wanted, what he needed to hear right now it was always the same. The boy with the desperate need for approval needed to hear he was doing a good job.

“Good boy, you're doing so good, that's it Gator. You fill me up so good.” You assured him as he thrust deep into you, moans escaped from both of you. A desperate need to be closer together.

You fought against his hands, wanting to hold him and be as close as possible. But he wasn't going to let you, not right now. “Who do you belong to?” He asked as he thrust inside you particularly hard. “Gator!” He smirked and nodded. “That's right, you belong to me.”

Gator finally let go of your wrists, you could feel the bruising already starting as he pulled you up and pushed back inside you hardly stopping. Burying his head between your breasts, you let out a loud moan as you began to ride him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding yourself close to him as his hands rested on your hips. Your chin brushing against his gelled hair, that was more crunchy than wet. He was keeping control, he always did unless he was feeling a certain way and then he'd demand you take control and words like Mama would fall from his lips. But not today, Gator wanted to be in charge.

You whined as he bottomed out inside you and sucked a mark in the valley between your breasts. “Gator!” You uttered breathlessly. “What am I?” He asked between your breasts. “A winner.” You told him as you became increasingly drunk on his cock, you felt almost dizzy as he increased the rhythm. He always felt so good inside you, truly a pleasure to feel.

“That's right.” Your hands moved down his back, slowly at first tracing over his freckles. You hug each little more that you could reach. He was so beautiful, even if there were some ugly parts inside him. But he had been made perfectly. You loved the way moles and freckles decorated his lightly tanned skin, you loved how deep his eyes were when you gazed into them. You could lose yourself in them if you weren't careful.

Your fingers moved up his back, slowly leaving barely even a trace that you had touched there. Reaching below his shoulders, your nails slowly start to dig in. Needing to mark him, just once. This of course caused Gator to stop moving, your eyes met each other. A small smirk spread across your lips, just once you'd like to mark him.

Smack!

You moaned loudly as his large hand connected with your ass cheek, it stung and throbbed but it felt good to the point you wanted more. “Do it again!” You couldn't help but moan, Gator smirked a little, his hand connecting again.

Smack! 

“Thank you!” You whined happily, the sting giving you pleasure and pain. “No marking, you know that.” You couldn't help but pout. “But I got marked up all pretty, just once?” Gator shook his head then pressed his lips to yours to take away the pout. “Not this time.”

His fingers dug into your hips as he began to thrust hard into you again. The pair of you kissed hungrily, teeth smacking against each other and moans escaping into each other's mouths. You thought this was how it was going to end tonight, riding him to orgasm. 

But he had other plans.

In just a couple of moves you were on your front with his large cock thrusting hard into you. His thumb pushed into your small little asshole as he began to thrust harder into you, he must've been getting close as his other hand found your clit and began to rub it as he thrust hard into you.

“Gator!” You moaned loudly, feeling yourself close to coming undone just from the extra touches he was giving you right now. “You're going to be a good girl, you're going to cum for me again against you!” He uttered breathlessly as his thumb pushed deep into you as his cock did. “You take me so well, good girl!” 

You weren't going to last much longer, the way he made you feel so full and sent waves of pleasure through you as he thrust in hard hitting the right spot was causing you to draw close to the edge. 

“I'm a winner.” You heard Gator, he was close too. He did this a lot, chanted that he was a winner as he drew close to orgasm. It was almost like winning a race for him. His thrusts became almost animalistic as he drew closer, they were harder, faster and you were close to losing control.

“I'm a fucking winner!” He yelled out loudly as his cock twitched inside you and started to spurt out strings of cum. “Gator!” You cried out your orgasm catching up with his just a second later. “That's it, cum for me!” Gator moaned as he used your orgasm to milk his cock.

You moved together for a few more minutes, milking all his seed from his cock inside of you before he slowly removed his thumb, and then removed his cock from inside you. Reaching down, he used two fingers to gather his cum that was seeping out of you. Bringing it round to your mouth he pushed them in.

“Show me how much of a winner I am.” He told you as he watched you lick his fingers clean, a small moan leaving his lips as he watched. “That's my good girl.” He whispered before lying down on the bed to catch his breath. 

Lying beside him you knew this moment wouldn't last long, there would be no hugs and no more kisses. They were reserved for sex and sex only. Glancing over at him, you could see his face glistening. He was so handsome, maybe one day you'd get to be more than friends with benefits.

Sighing gently, you watched him get up and start to get dressed, neither of you said anything. You just lay there watching him as he put his layers of clothing back on. Picking up his mask, he placed it on your nightstand to remind you of tonight. “I'll see you soon.” You said gently hoping for once he'd kiss you goodbye.

It was like he read your mind, as he finished putting on his sheriff's vest, he leaned down, your lips close together. “A word of advice sweetheart, you might want to make your basement secure, anyone could just walk in.” He winked, before straightening up and heading out of the room.

“Gator? Wait, what do you-?” You scrambled up, slipping on your robe as you ran out after him. “Gator!” Rushing downstairs, he left through the front door before you could reach him. “Shit.” You mumbled gently. Reaching for the door handle, you stopped as you realized something.

“How did he get in?” Turning around you noticed the basement door under the stairs wide open. Slowly approaching, you went to shut it, as you heard the faint yell of your favorite deputy somewhere outside. “I'm a winner!”

Tagging a few people who I hope wish to read it: @keerysfolklore @shescreamslikeachild @innocencemission @angst-lasagna @darleenjade @steveshairspray @halflifejess @chrrymunson @reidsbtch

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Gator Tillman x Fem! Reader

Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.

Summary: Gator gets hurt which leads to confessions from the both of you.

18+ Only Minors DNI!

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun." Established relationship. Roy Tillman (Roy being the ass that he is). Gator gets hurt - no details just the aftermath. Angst. Fluff. Brief smut (not explicit).

Word Count: 2.7K

Gator had left that morning in a rush, skipping breakfast altogether to go help Roy with something. The kind of something that he stayed tight lipped about that always made you feel uneasy.

Up before dawn, rousing you to make sure he could kiss you properly before starting his day and he was out the door.

You'd wish you'd said it then. It's been on the tip of your tongue for weeks now.

That thrumming in your chest with every beat of your heart. That ache that comes along when you know you care about someone. When you love someone. When you finally admit it to yourself.

You'd gotten to work without so much as a “miss you sweet thing” or “tacos tonight” text. It wasn't unusual for him to go a while without hearing from him but today just felt off.

The moment he'd told you he had to be out early; you knew it was trouble.

“Helping dad tomorrow. We've got to clean up a mess.”

You'd started voicing your concerns about Roy more often since he'd finished completely moving in and was no longer under his dad's thumb 24/7.

He started to see things your way, little by little. You were proud of the man he was becoming, no longer seeking his daddy's approval all the time. He was trying to be a better man for himself and for you.

It was another couple of hours with nothing. You'd sent a few texts his way with no reply. Getting worried, you finally called him on break only for it to go straight to voicemail.

You chewed your nail, debating on reaching out to the one person who would know what was going on. But as if my dumb luck, two deputies walked in for lunch, halting your finger from making that call.

You stomped over to them with a purpose.il

Andy noticed you first, giving you a puzzled look.

“Y/N? Figured you'd be up at the hospital.”

It felt like your entire world came crashing down with those words.

“What happened?” It's all you could think to ask.

“Uh, I don't know all the details, just know he's pretty banged up. Did… did no one call you?”

You didn't answer, going straight to the back telling Henry you couldn't stay.

Your fists were clenched so tight around the steering wheel, your knuckles were white. The hospital was only about 15 minutes away, but you couldn't get there fast enough.

You were a nervous wreck walking through the entrance only expecting the worst, heading straight for reception.

“I need to see Gator Tillman.” You spoke as calmly as your voice would allow.

“You family, hon? Only family allowed back there with him right now.”

“I….I'm his girlfriend.” You should have just lied but you figured everyone in this damn town knew Gator. He wasn't married.

“Sorry hon. You'll have to wait out here for now.” She gave you a pitying look.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed and found the nearest seat.

You'd tried to talk to reception again about 20 minutes later, but they weren't going to budge. Wouldn't even tell you if he was okay.

Each second was agonizing. Your knee was bouncing, and each time the door shot open your head followed to see if it was who you were looking for.

At this rate, the skin around your nails that you were picking would all be bleeding.

Sitting in your own agony, you almost missed the voice behind you.

“No, goddamnit, tell him to go out there now.”

Roy.

You stood up immediately, walking over to catch up with his large strides.

“Roy!” You'd half shouted, as he turned stunned but his face somewhat softened when he saw you.

“Is he okay? Please just tell me he's okay. These assholes won't let me back there since I'm not family. Won't even tell me what's going on.” It all rushed out with one breath.

“Whoa, whoa.” He clasped a hand on your shoulder. You wanted to jerk away from him but stood still.

“He's going to be fine y/n. Broken wrist and bruised ego. But otherwise, he's fine.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“How?” Your eyes welled, from anger. Looking straight at the reason why but you held your tongue.

“He let someone get the drop on him. Let his guard down, but you shouldn't worry about all that. Why don't you go home and wait on him? He should be released in another hour or so. I can get one of the Deputies to drive you.” He smiled, as if trying to be reassuring but it just turned your stomach.

“I'm fine here. I'm not leaving until I see him.” You finally took a step back, as his hand fell from you.

“Suit yourself. Boys, let's go.” He and the rest of his goons skirted past you.

“You aren't staying?!”

He stopped; his jaw tensed before turning to fully face you.

“Duty calls. He’s a grown man. He doesn't need me here. Or you for that matter. He doesn't need some woman making him soft or distracting him.”

He leveled his gaze, stepping closer to you. As much as you didn't want to, you felt small.

“You are just a distraction, aren't you? Clouding his judgment.”

The insinuation that this was somehow your fault was laughable, but his words sat like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

You were rattled, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he had affected you.

You steeled your gaze, giving him no trace of emotion.

“I think we both know what's always clouding his judgment. What's always in the back of his mind and it's not me.”

His eyes flickered with surprise just for a moment, but you caught it.

“You have a good day y/n. We'll see you real soon.” He tipped his hat and turned to join his crew.

You watched him take his leave. Standing there alone, finally saying fuck it.

You'd seen the general direction he'd come from. Keeping an eye on the front desk, you walked over to the double doors leading to the private emergency rooms.

Luck was on your side, as someone was being wheeled out, you slipped past.

One by one, you peeked your head into doors and through closed curtains. Muttering apologies along the way.

Finally, your eyes spotted familiar boots, ankles crossed at the end of a bed. You sighed but the hammering in your chest didn't stop.

You slowly crept into the room; steps silent as you drew closer to him.

He was sitting back against the pillows, eyes closed with his right arm still against his side. They hadn't set a cast yet.

You silently watched him, his chest with a steady rise and fall, tangible proof he was here.

“Gator?” Your voice was so small you didn't recognize it.

His eyes shot open, immediately finding your glossy ones.

“Bunny? Baby, hey.” He smiled sweetly, studying your face.

You hadn't moved, as if you were scared to actually see him. He had a bruise forming under his right eye, his top lip had a gash in it and you knew his wrist was broken. You could only imagine what else lay beneath his clothes.

‘C’mere.” He reached out to you with his good hand.

You almost lunged at him. Throwing your arms around his neck, careful not to jostle him too much. Pulling his head to your chest, as he wound his arm around your waist, fingers clutched tight with a bruising grip.

He's okay. He's okay. He's okay.

You finally released a breath you'd been holding.

“You scared me, you jackass.” You sniffed, causing him to look up, as your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears.

“Are … are you crying?” He couldn't stop the smile from creeping across his lips, tucking his head back against you.

“No, shut up.” You wiped a stray tear away with the back of your hand.

He wanted to give you shit. Tease you until you were boiling over but he liked this side of you. It was rare to see you soft. Especially soft for him, so he held you a few more minutes letting you run your fingers through his hair.

“Let me see your eye,” you finally spoke.

He raised up, as you placed your palm to his cheek, running your thumb just under his eye and over the ugly purple splotches marring his handsome face.

You turned your attention to his lip, examining it, careful not to touch the angry, reddened wound as your thumb traced along the curve of his bottom lip.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“S’fine Bunny. I'm fine. Fucker got the jump on me s’all.” He shrugged as if he wasn't sitting here in a hospital room.

“Fine? You're in the fucking hospital. This isn't fine, Gator. If you hadn't been doing Roy's dirty work, you wouldn't be here.” His nonchalant attitude pissed you off. “And where the hell is your phone?”

“Smashed. I told dad to call you.” His brows knit in confusion.

“Of course, well he didn't. I had to hear it from fucking Andy when he came in for lunch.”

“Oh, he must've gotten busy or somethin’.” Mumbling toward the end.

“Right,” you scoff. “How silly of me to forget how busy Sheriff Roy is to not even give his own son's girlfriend a call when he's in the goddamn hospital. I mean I know he hates me but Jesus Christ.”

“Bunny, just stop. He doesn't hate you. Just lower your fuckin’ voice before they kick you out of here.” He kept his tone level, trying to calm you down when he noticed the nurse passing by gave you both a sideways glance.

You took a deep breath. You knew he was right. It wasn't the place for a full-blown melt down.

“Fine but this conversation is far from over.” Pushing your finger at his chest.

He scooted over on the small bed, making room for you as he tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head.

“It's ok Bun. It'll heal. Not the first time I've been broken probably won't be the last.”

“Yeah, I know.” As long as he was stuck under any of Roy's influence things would never truly change.

They finally got his cast set and quickly got him discharged so you could take him home.

You stopped for a new phone on the way. Then another stop at the gas station so he could buy a new vape. Somewhere along the way his was lost.

You were both unusually quiet on the drive. Your mind was still running over a million different scenarios on how today could have gone.

He huffed that vape almost nonstop. You knew something was bothering him, so you didn't say anything about the lingering scents wafting in the car like you normally would.

“Want me to cook tonight?” Finally breaking the silence, as he snorted.

“Are you tryin’ to finish me off?” He chuckled.

You reached over, hitting his chest with the back of your hand playfully.

It got quiet again as you drew closer to home. He held your hand, thumb rubbing soothingly against yours as he looked out the window absentmindedly.

Once you finally got him settled into the house, he showered, while you threw a frozen pizza in the oven. About as close to a home cooked meal that you could provide.

You both ate in silence at the small table within the kitchen. You watched him scarf the food down with eagerness, wondering if he'd bothered to grab a bite all day.

He finally looked up and sighed, placing the slice he'd been munching back on his plate giving you his full attention.

“Bunny, you're kind of freakin’ me out. Quit staring at me. Why’re you so quiet, huh?”

Never one short on words, yet you were rendered speechless to the simple fact that you didn't know how to tell him how scared you had been at the thought of losing him.

“Gator, baby… when I found out you were in the hospital, my mind went blank. I was so worried I would never see you again.” The sting behind your eyes made itself known.

“Baby, look at me, I'm fi…”

“I swear to God if I hear you say you're fine one more time I'm going to break your other arm. You are not fine. This is not fine.” You laid your hand on his cast.

“It's…” He started again, but you quickly cut back in.

“No, let me finish.” His mouth slipped closed, as he nodded. “If you keep doing this stupid grunt work for Roy, I'm scared that you're going to end up in prison, or God forbid dead. How do you not see that?”

“Bunny, you worry too much.” He shook his head dismissively. “I got this.”

“From where I'm sitting it doesn’t look like you've got shit, Gator. Jesus!” You stood quickly, the chair almost toppling over from the sudden movement.

He was caught off guard but stood to meet you, catching your wrist before you got too far from him.

“Goddamn Bunny, just calm down. What the fuck am I supposed to do? He's my dad.”

“I don't know? Run away, get out of this town. Out of this state! I don't care where, as long we're together. I just need you!” Your eyes began to well, a moment of vulnerability you never let anyone see.

You allowed him to pull you into his chest, as you wound your arms around his waist. He was hurt, yet here he was consoling you.

He pulled you close. His cast pressed into your back, catching the fabric of your shirt slightly. A glaring reminder of the one person standing in-between you.

You push your cheek tight to his chest, breathing him in. The woodsy spice of his body wash still clinging to him, filling your senses.

“Gator, I can't lose you. I…” You took the moment to lift your chin so you could look directly into his eyes. Those hazel eyes flecked with greens and golds, currently half lidded. He looked as tired as you felt.

Your chest felt tight, it's as if the words were carving their way through you. You had to get them out before they ate you alive.

“I love you.”

It came out loud in the quiet space, as it hung in the air between you. Eight letters, three syllables. Words that could change your entire relationship.

A look flickered across his face, before his gaze further softened.

His reply came pressing his lips to yours. Taking his time, slowly working against yours. Languid movements as if you had all the time in the world and maybe right now you did.

He hisses slightly when you kiss him back, pressure hitting his split lip.

You pulled back, “fuck, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Pressing his forehead to meet yours. “Say it again, please.”

“I love you, Gator Tillman.”

He slides the tip of his nose against the slope of yours, “I love you, too.” Mumbling across your lips as they meet once more.

You couldn't help the smile that lifted the corners of your mouth, as you pulled back to look at him. His look of pure adoration mirroring yours.

You weren't sure where you'd go from here, but you didn't want to worry about that now. You were in the arms of the man you loved, both safe and sound.

You laid bare before him that night; hearts flayed open with nothing else to hide.

Your lips trailing across his skin. Promising to kiss it better. Every cut, every bruise and every broken bone.

Hips rolling into his, soft and lazy. Sweat slicked chests sliding against each other. Pressed so tightly together you didn't know where you ended, and he began.

Arms slung around his neck, endless “I love yous” shared between breathless kisses. His blunt fingertips digging into the fat of your hips as you rode him.

Drawing out the pleasure induced haze for as long as possible. Moans and desperate pleas. Closer, harder, deeper until you were both satiated.

Falling asleep with the weight of his arm draped across your waist as soft kisses were placed across your shoulders with promises of tomorrow and forever.

In the quiet moments before dawn, you watched him sleep. Chest rhythmically rising and falling with each breath. Fingers lazily tracing patterns into his bare skin.

Hoping against hope that when the sun rose, he could fulfill those promises whispered to you in the dark.

[wroteclassicaly]

Can we talk about Gator having another fight with Roy, because he failed to do something correctly?

So Gator drives to your place in the middle of the night and drops to his knees in your doorway after you answer the door, half awake, and he tears your panties off beneath your sleep shirt, burying his face in your cunt until you’re cumming all over his mouth. Meanwhile, the front door has been open and he’s not stopping until he accomplishes what he came for.

“At least I did one thing right.”

[megxplryxb]

Romance is Dead, Isn't it?

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.

The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.

Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.

February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.

Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.

“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.

“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.

“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.

Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.

"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.

"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.

“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.

“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.

"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.

"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.

“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.

"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.

“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.

“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”

“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.

“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.

“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.

“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.

“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”

“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.

Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.

"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.

"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.

"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.

"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.

"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.

"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.

“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.

“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.

You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.

“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.

“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.

He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.

“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.

You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?

You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.

One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.

The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.

“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.

“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.

“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvinced glance.

“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.

“I’ll get over it.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”

“Yeah but maybe if—”

“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.

Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.

The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.

By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.

“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.

“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.

“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”

“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.

“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.

“No, but I really need to—”

“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.

“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.

“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.

“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.

“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.

“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.

“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.

“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.

“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.

For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.

You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.

“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.

“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.

“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”

“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”

“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.

“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.

“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.

“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.

“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.

The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?

That last thought made you want to throw up.

At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.

As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve?”

“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.

“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.

“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.

“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.

“Steve I—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.

“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.

“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.

"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I know you hate all that traditional valentines stuff and last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains, you said they were your favourite.”

“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”

Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.

“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.

“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?

“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”

“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.

“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.

“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”

[spookysteddie]

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.

[ssweetleaf]

hi i’m sophie! would i be able to request anything about riding gator for the first time? maybe he’s real big and you need some encouragement 🫣

SMUT 18+ below

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your thighs were flush against his, knees digging into the mattress, aching already from your constant hovering— not yet breaching the distance between you two because of how nervous you were. 

Gator’s cock was heavy against his stomach, twitching every so often, impossibly hard and ready, already leaking pearlescent little droplets of pre-cum that had you mindlessly salivating when you caught sight of it.

And it wasn’t that you weren’t turned on, you absolutely were— your slick arousal slipped down your thighs as proof, soaking his skin and your poor clit was throbbing, just begging for attention, like the mere touch of the rough pad of his thumb.

He was just so big.

“What is it, hon?” he hummed, a big hand reached out for you, smoothing against the supple skin of your ass as a sort of comfort. “Can see ya thinkin’ too hard.”

You bit the skin of your lip, casting your gaze downward, trying hard to keep the sight of Gator’s too big cock out of your vision.

“You’re just—” you hiccuped, hands slipping from his shoulders and making their way to your sides before he grabbed your wrists, keeping you there, wanting you to stay flush with him, to feel your skin on his and to quench his thirst for your touch. “Just so big.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, cocking a brow at you, trying hard and miserably failing to keep his smirk at bay.

“S’not funny, Gator— you might split me in half!” You pouted, smacking at his pec, huffing at the now constant pull at the corner of his lips.

“Baby, I’ve fucked you before, remember?” He mocked, hand still smoothing over your skin, your back this time.

“That’s different,” you whined, pout still prominent and you nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cheap cologne before sighing out. “M’scared I won’t be able to take you this way, daddy.”

Gator tried to ignore the jump of his cock from your little nickname for him, carding his fingers through your hair and shushing your silly thoughts of getting split in two.

“Of course you’ll be able to take me, honey,” he cooed, “you’re my best girl, remember? Ya always take me so well, even when I rough ya up a little.”

Your hips shifted at his words, cheeks searing in a flush, and the tip of his cock bumped at your clit from your movements, a soft whine escaping the confines of your throat at the act.

His voice was low, heavy on the shell of your ear.

“Daddy’ll guide ya, hon— no need to worry.”

send me asks/my inbox is open

[kassy-munson]

we need more gator tillman fic on here. im still not over him

[buckysgrace]

Pumpkin Picking

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Flufftober 2024

Gator helps you pick out the perfect pumpkin.

Winter seemed to come early in North Dakota. Far too early as the brisk wind moved through your bones, startling you as you pulled your jacket closer to your body. The sun was bright despite that, but barely reached you to warm your skin.

“What about this one?” Gator asked you, his slicked back hair hidden underneath his green hat. Your eyes grazed over his features, noting that the tip of his nose was red as well as his earlobes. You turned towards the pumpkin again, trying to make a decision. 

“Too lumpy.” You told him seriously, thinking that the pumpkin was more eggplant shaped than round. Not to mention the various bumps and growths across it. A pretty pumpkin, but not the kind you were looking for. 

“You said the last one was too round.” He turned towards you, eyebrows raised as the sun danced across the brown hue in his eyes. You simmered there for a moment too long, admiring him. 

“It was,” You defended yourself, “It looked too perfect.” You said with a laugh, recalling how that pumpkin was so round that it was almost smooth. It would roll away from your porch, you couldn’t pick that one. 

“I think you’re just tryin’ to make me work too hard.” He mumbled as he placed his hands on his hips, inspecting the same pumpkins that you were. You bit back a smile, knowing this wasn’t something that he had really wanted to do. 

“That one will topple over too easily,” You explained, “I need one that’s got a good grip. And firm.” You told him as you nodded your head, feeling like that was the best way to explain it. 

“Yeah?” He grinned, eyes flickering in mischief as you shook your head at his suggestion. 

“Not like that,” You smiled as you glanced towards him, “Something that’s easy to hold but it’ll sit well on our porch.” You explained easily, lips pressing together at the way he snorted. 

“Why don’t you just grab a bunch of them?” He asked you seriously, sticking his hands into his jacket pockets. You scanned the aisles of pumpkins a little quicker, feeling the frigid air settling harshly on you as well. 

“We just need two,” You corrected him, “One for me and one for you.” You told him excitedly, sticking one of your hands into his pockets to link your fingers together. You shivered a bit, feeling like you had just touched ice as your skin brushed against his. 

“What if I mess up on it?” He asked you as he furrowed his eyebrows together, looking perplexed as you moved further down the dirt path.

“I’ve never seen a perfect design on a pumpkin before,” You laughed at the thought, “But if you want more than two that’s fine with me.” You told him seriously, not minding the extra decorations. 

“You sure?” He flitted his eyes towards you, making your insides warm and soft. You gave his hand a little squeeze before you pulled away. 

“Uh huh,” You nodded, squatting down to inspect the pumpkins closer, “I think I might get two anyways.” You added a second later, figuring that he wouldn’t do so unless you did. 

“We should’ve brought a wheelbarrow.” He mumbled as he wiped his hand across his mouth, shaking his head as your smile grew on your lips. 

“Your muscles aren’t enough?” You teased, watching the way he snorted as you picked a pumpkin up. It was coated with dry dirt, but the shape and feel of it felt right to you. You held it against your hip proudly.

“Cute,” He commented, eyes scanning your body for a brief second before it landed against the pumpkin that was glued against your hip, “About time you picked one.” He teased you, leaning forward to spit against the ground. 

“Ew don’t spit there.” You wrinkled your nose, thinking about if someone accidentally put their hands there. 

“The dirt?” He asked dryly, “You prefer I do it somewhere else?” He suggested, lips curling into a smirk. You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin as you stepped forward and continued your search while his eyes lingered against you. 

-

Four freshly scrubbed pumpkins sat across newspapers on your kitchen floor, the table and chairs pushed out of the way as multiple plastic bags laid between the two of you. Your legs were crossed as you gently scooped the top of your pumpkin off, watching as Gator continued to cut his off. 

“Have you ever carved a pumpkin before?” You asked him as you cocked your eyebrows, scooping away the guts from the top of the pumpkin. 

“Uh,” He paused for a second, “No. This is my first time.” He admitted, struggling for a second before he got the top of his pumpkin popped off. He stared in disbelief, wrinkling his nose up as he stared at the strings and seeds that poured out from it. 

“Awe, I’m glad you trusted me.” You teased him, placing the top of your pumpkin to the side so you could show him how to scrape all of the yucky parts off. 

“I was always told Halloween is a pagan holiday,” He explained softly, eyes glancing towards yours, “You know, it’s supposedly evil and full of devil worship. All that shit.” He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, laughing to himself as he rolled up his sleeves. 

“Oh,” You paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to support him, “I’m sorry. That must’ve sucked.” You told him honestly, frowning as you watched him beginning to scoop pieces out from the pumpkin. 

“I never thought much of it before,” He admitted, wincing as he took another large fistful from the inside of the pumpkin, “I’m not sure I enjoy this though.” His features wrinkled up in disdain, looking less than pleased as he dropped the guts into the bag next to him. 

“I can bake the seeds,” You told him, laughing at the way his nose and eyebrows wrinkled together once again, “It’s good. I promise.” You told him as you pressed your fingers against your pumpkin, ensuring that it was thin enough to begin carving. 

“I don’t know about that,” He mumbled, nose wrinkling up as you wiped away the guts from the pumpkin seeds, “But I trust you.” He added a second later, eyes gleaming in amusement. 

“Sweet of you,” You grinned at him, appreciating his words, “I promise I won’t poison you.” You laughed a second later, sure that your cooking wasn’t that bad. At least he had never said that it was. 

Music drifted between the two of you, loud and thumping from whichever station Gator had picked out for the two of you to listen to. You glanced towards him, noticing the way his features were crinkled up in concentration. 

“Look,” You proclaimed proudly, “A cat.” You told him as you peeled the paper off of your pumpkin, fairly excited with how it turned out. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than previous ones you’d done. 

“Shit,” He said, laughing softly as he twisted your pumpkin closer to him so he could inspect it, “How did you do that?” He asked seriously, drifting his fingers over the smooth lines of your carving. 

“I used the design,” You told him as you held up the stencil papers, “It doesn’t always work.” You admitted, knowing that sometimes the paper was too flimsy or tore too easily. 

“Looks a lot better than mine.” He grumbled as he sat back, inspecting his pumpkin on his own. He pouted his lips out a bit, looking anything but happy with his creation. 

“What design did you make?” You asked him curiously, tilting your head as he peered at it. He shook his head, sighing deeply as he looked at it. 

“Uh, none,” He replied after a brief pause, “I made a face.” He furrowed his eyebrows together as he turned it towards you, showing off the idea that he had in mind. It was a typical jack-o-lantern face, with triangle eyes and a jagged mouth. One eye was bigger than the other, but you didn’t think it was bad at all. 

“It looks cute.” You told him seriously, grinning in appreciation as you tried to touch it again. He scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to roll it away for him. You protested, grabbing it again. 

“I can do better than that.” He said as he pulled a new pumpkin onto his lap. You held his first pumpkin close, thinking it was adorable. 

“Of course,” You grinned, thinking of the random drawings he had scattered throughout your house, “This is just your first pumpkin. The second one is always better.” You sent him a playful wink, very much enjoying the one that he had already created. 

“How about-,” He started, glancing up at you before he began to dig his knife into the top of a new pumpkin, “You scoop it out and I carve it.” He reasoned, making you nod your head in agreement. You could happily work under those conditions. 

[aestheticaltcow]

Pretty Girl (Gator Tillman x Reader)

Kinktober 2024

(Divider Credit @strangergraphics)

You were lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the front door open. The distinct sound of heavy boot steps followed. “Baby, are you here?” Gator’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs, assuming you were upstairs. 

“In here.” You called, pulling his attention back to the living room. He turned his head and saw you sitting on the couch. He immediately walked around the sofa to hug and kiss you on the forehead. Before you had the opportunity to kiss him, he moved down the couch and lifted your legs to sit under them. You giggled, “Do you not want a kiss?”

“I do, but it can wait, " he said as he rubbed your shins. You shot him a confused look, “Didn’t you hang out with your sister today?” 

When the realization hit you, you couldn’t help but giggle. “I did, Gator,” you confirmed. He was itchin’ in his seat as you spoke. I think you know which color I chose.” You brought your socked feet to his thighs and saw him light up as he moved to remove your socks.

“Fuck baby… look at those,” he muttered as he stared down at your freshly painted white toenails. You giggled as his hands moved to rub your feet. You had to pry the information out of him when the two of you had first gotten together. Gator Tillman, Stark County’s finest officer, has a foot fetish.

It started subtly. He’d offer you a foot rub when you got home from work, justifying it by saying you'd been on your feet all day. Then, as a kind gesture, he started giving you money to get your toes done. Gator wasn’t the kind of guy to perform cunnilingus from the get-go, but after some coaxing, he got into it; it then progressed to him bringing one of your feet to his shoulder and kissing down the entirety of your leg. The delicate kisses he’d place on the side of your foot were your first inclining. 

It was sweet; he really did love every bit of you.

[stevesxyellowxsweater]

Dating Gator Tillman would include... (post finale)

Waiting for Gator while he's in jail,

Helping him read braille,

Comforting Gator at moments when he is feeling weak,

Letting him hold your arm to guide him,

Gator holding you close when you sleep,

Helping him learn his way around the house,

Letting Gator learn your face,

Spending hours exploring each others bodies,

Having sex being a whole new experience,

Gator spends a long time feeling every single inch of you,

Gator finding a new appreciation for music and sharing it with you,

Watching him learn and evolve,

Making it the norm to tell him what you're doing,

Both of you becoming very vocal during sex,

Finding ways to help him become independent,

Comforting him through the grieving process,

Going with Gator to get a guide dog,

Long comforting cuddles,

Letting Gator rest his head on your lap,

Bringing him oatmeal raisin cookies,

Having Dot, Wayne, and Scotty round for dinner,

Building models of the area to help him get around,

Assuring Gator you love him no matter what,

Always buying him Mountain Dew and jerky,

Watching Scotty and Gator bond over music,

Always falling asleep with the radio or tv playing so he doesn't feel alone,

Having family dinners,

Always letting Gator know he's not worthless,

Him one day saying he loves you,

and meaning it.

view more characters here

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Idle Hands

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: Porn with a smidge of plot. Degradation. Mean and condescending Gator. Teasing. Fingering. Blasphemy. Debauchery. Religious themes. Readers age is not specified but both are consenting adults.

Enjoy my little sinners!

WC: 1.6K

Stifling. That's the only way you could describe it. The air was thick as the crowd began to trickle in filling the small church, which would only make it worse.

The air conditioner has been out nearly a month now, with the preacher promising to fix it every Sunday. Isn't lying still a sin? You think to yourself.

You could have just skipped but decided last minute to throw on a sundress and make the short walk, heat be damned.

As you sat in the very back pew, your mind was wondering what you did to deserve such punishment but then that reminder sat down beside you with his slicked back hair and Sunday's best button up shirt.

Roy tipped his hat toward you as he caught your eye in passing, making his way toward the front. Sheriff Tillman always makes a show of himself. You often wonder if his daddy ever thought it odd the way Gator always gravitated toward you.

He kept a respectable distance at first and for a moment the heat wasn't so bad as you stared at his rugged profile. Sharp jawline and strong nose, he was handsome, but you'd never tell him that.

Once the pastor stands and the service begins, he slides over pressing in right beside you, his jean clad thigh resting against your bare one with your dress riding just midway up.

The unbearable heat was no match for the fever already stirring at your core just from his close proximity and promise of what was to come.

It was the same every Sunday.

The pastor leads everyone in an opening prayer as his hand comes to the top of your thigh with his warm, calloused palm, fingers splayed wide and possessive. Though he really has no possession over you except right here inside these walls.

Your breath hitches slightly as his grip becomes a little more firm, fingers digging into your plush skin. While everyone else has their heads down in prayer, he looks down at you with a devilish grin, the one he knows drives you crazy, cocky and lopsided.

You keep your eyes closed, not daring to look him in the eyes, lest you lose all composure already. God forgive me for the sins I'm about to commit. Repeating it over and over in your mind, promising it'll be the last time, just like every other “last time.”

The prayers end, but you still don't look at him, eyes trained to the front as the congregation begins the hymnals.

His hand trails up a little further, fingers dancing at the hem of your skirt.

“Gator…” You hiss, a piss poor attempt at a warning that you both know holds no real threat.

His grin only grows, leaning in so close you can smell his aftershave, as his fruity scented breath fans out across your cheek. No doubt taking a hit from that putrid vape before walking in.

“Don't be so loud darlin.” He chuckles lowly, so only you can hear.

As your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ sing around you, he eases his hand up, fingers trailing the inside of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine despite the prickling heat. His palm is already a little sticky, your skin giving a little resistance as he tries to glide it up smoothly.

You hold your breath as it travels a little further, so high, he hears your little gasp, leaning back into you.

"You better not make a sound.”

You grab his wrist when his pinky grazes your panties, feather light but sending an electric pulse, igniting your core.

"Fu—" you hiss but he cuts that off with another whisper.

"Don't cuss in the house of the Lord. It's a sin.” His voice is low and husky.

Your eyes shot up to his, but he quickly looked toward the front instead, feigning interest in the music playing. He looked around to make sure you weren't drawing any attention. For the most part, you knew how to stay quiet.

His pinky grazes downward, your thighs involuntarily parting for him with a breathy sigh as he finds the soft wet patch just beginning to form. He bites his lip, eyes closing just a moment to suppress his own groan knowing he had you like this.

His eyes focus back on the front, the choir singing loud enough no one would hear your breathy whine when his pinky finds the side of your panties and dips below to find your slick lips.

He leans back over, lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, “Shhh. Don't you dare moan in here.”

Your mind was literally going blank. You should push his hand away and walk away but you can't. You sit in the same damn seat every week knowing exactly what's going to happen but still putting yourself through this torture.

He doesn't give you the time of day outside of these four walls, but for a little while each Sunday his attention was all on you.

He slips between your lips catching your clit as your nails dig into his wrist, your breathing picking up.

“That's it huh?” He hums.

His pinky swipes back down against your puffy nub, making sure he applies a modicum amount of pressure, just a little more than before making sure you'll feel it.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as your eyelids flutter shut and you bite down on your lip.

"Good service today. Looks like the Holy Spirit is really working through you." He chuckles.

You want to tell him to shut up but as your lips part he suddenly slips his ring finger in to have a little more control of the situation, drawing a soft circle across your clit.

He shoots a glare your way when you gasp and quickly claps your lips together tightly.

“Keep that pretty mouth shut, or you 'll give us away darlin. You don't want the preacher to find out what a whore you are, huh?” He lets out a small laugh, finding the entire thing amusing.

You shake your head no. He's trying to time this perfect, with just a few more songs before the service begins, there isn't much time.

He dips down, softly circling your entrance gathering more slick before rubbing your clit once again, picking up his tempo a little more.

“Gator…” you sigh softly, feeling your abdomen warm and tighten with each pass. He's slow and methodical, knowing exactly how to get you there.

You can't keep your eyes open, so you lean your head forward. Please God, just let me get through this and it'll never happen again. The same mantra every time you find yourself in this situation.

Your hips slightly buck forward, searching for just a little more friction, looking up at him with a half-lidded gaze.

He smirks down at you, and you know you're face to face with the devil. If you squint hard enough you might see his horns peeking out from his hair, but this is one devil you would let drag you to hell, thanking him the entire way.

“I know you're close, just don't get us caught, little church mouse.”

He's enjoying seeing you squirm, never pushing you this far before and he wants to see your breaking point.

Your chest is heaving, breaths coming out as small pants now, trying not to make a sound. You're sure if anyone looked back here, they would know what was going on immediately with your flushed skin and dazed expression. A thin sheen of sweat covers your entire body, even your hair is damp. You weren’t sure if it was the humid air or the flames of hell licking at your feet.

God help me. Praying to a God you were currently openly mocking.

Your thighs close tightly around his wrist, pinning him in place.

“Oh God,” you whisper. “Please forgive me.”

He hears your words and grins once more.

“I think we're past forgiveness, darlin.”

His ministrations never cease as you feel yourself losing control, right on the precipice, gripping your bible tightly with your free hand, hanging on for dear life.

Your cunt suddenly clenches around nothing, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave hard and unforgiving, pressing your eyes closed as a small moan slips free.

Gator quickly covers it the best he can with a cough and pulls his hand back up your thigh. Thankfully no one looks back to the two of you.

You're trying to catch your breath as he leans back into your space, taking your skirt and wiping his fingers clean on the pristine fabric.

“Damn, darlin. Coming in Lord's House, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Your cheeks heat with the implications of your actions, suddenly feeling all too exposed looking around to make sure no one caught you. You were suddenly thankful for the heat that you could blame on your flushed and disheveled appearance.

The choir stopped as your breathing returned to normal and the pastor took his place at the front, Gator scooting over to put some distance between the two of you once more.

You pointedly ignored the small glances he sent your way the rest of the sermon, paying all your attention to the message at hand.

As the service closed, you bowed your head in prayer once more. God, forgive me of my sins. You began but smirked to yourself, mind drifting to much more sinister thoughts.

Once dismissed, Gator barreled toward the exit, not giving you so much as a second glance. But his father caught him before he could get through the door.

“Gator, the good pastor and his family here have asked us to lunch.” He stopped dead in his tracks. You could tell he was tense as he turned back around, eyes settling on you, then up to your gracious father.

“Yeah, Gator. Won't you come join us?” A sweet, reserved voice and a devious smirk only reserved for him.

[wroteclassicaly]

Gator using his pocket knife to cut off your lingerie, old music from his record player flowing through the humid air (him and those damned oldies).

“Darlin, you think I care how expensive this is? I own the body that’s in it. Can do whatever-the-fuck that I want, you understandin’ me?”

[megxplryxb]

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Minors DNI 18+ Warnings: Flirting, Mentions of smut but no actual smut

Summary: Your best friend Robin wants you to come work at Scoops Ahoy with her but when she realises you’re totally hot for her cute coworker, she quickly changes her mind about the whole thing.

“So, have you thought any more about applying for the position here?” Robin asks excitedly, handing you your plain vanilla ice cream with sprinkles as you sit on the counter to keep her company during the final hour before closing.

She’d been trying to get you to quit your job at the arcade ever since Scoops Ahoy put an advert in the local paper looking for another member to add to the team.

“As fun as I’m sure it would be to work with my best friend, I don’t think I can.” You frown as her brows knit together.

“What, why not? We’d have such a blast!” She says, trying her best to convince you.

“I know we would Rob, but I just don’t think it’d be the best idea.” You shrug, licking your ice cream, moving your eyes from your friend to her extremely cute coworker who was sitting at a table, conversing with a group of kids.

She scanned your face for a moment wondering what it was that would stop you from wanting to work with her but then she noticed you biting the corner of your lip and the small blush that was slowly creeping onto your cheeks.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. Dingus? You like DINGUS?” She shouts loudly as you shush her, placing a hand over her mouth as Steve and the kids look up to see what all the commotion was about.

“Jeez Robs, say it louder why don’t you?” You giggle as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I just… it’s Steve you know? I mean, does the sailor outfit really do it for you?” She winces, not really wanting to know your answer but you reply anyway.

“It’s not necessarily the uniform per se, it’s what’s underneath the uniform that I’m interested in. But now that you mention it, his ass does look pretty good in those shorts.” You smirk, taking another lick of vanilla.

“Please stop.” She gags as you let your head fall back, laughing again.

“What are you two ladies talking about?” Steve questions, brows raised suspiciously as he walks toward the counter again, taking extra note of the bold grin spread across your face.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” Robin quickly answers, shooting you a warning glare.

Steve tries to ask you what was going on, seeing the way his friend was looking at you but his thoughts get lost as he watches your tongue swirl around the melting ice cream. He swallows hard, eyes dropping to your low cut T-shirt when he sees a drop of ice cream running down your cleavage.

“Um, you got a little...” He points, his Adams apple bobbing as your finger catches the droplet before it disappeared between your pushed up breasts.

“Oh, thanks Steve.” You smile sweetly before placing the tip of your finger between your lips to suck it clean, hypnotising the boy standing in front of you. Instantly, he’d removed his Scoops Ahoy hat, placing it over the front of his shorts, hoping neither of you noticed the slight predicament he was about to be in.

“Uh, ye-yeah, sure, no problem.” He breathes, walking into the back room as Robin rolls her eyes at you both.

“Fifty bucks says he’s gone to jerk off in the bathroom after that little display.” Robin scrunches her nose as you turn to look at her.

“Maybe I should go help him out?” You suggest, waiting for her reaction.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” She says, placing her head on the counter.”

“Of course I am.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you finish off your ice cream. “Honestly though, I’d never get anything done working with him. He’s so fucking hot.” You gush as Robin covers her ears.

“I’m not listening! Lalalalalala.”

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, playfully nudging her.

“Oh I’m sorry that I don’t want to listen to my best friend talk about fucking Steve Harrington’s brains out!” Robin exclaims, shaking her head again.

“So what? You talk about wanting to mess around with Tammy Thompson all the time!” You argued quietly knowing Robin hadn’t told anyone but you that she was into girls.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to work with Tammy!” She fought back but before you could respond, Steve was back behind the counter again.

“Hey Rob, don’t you have to return that sweater to the Gap store for your Mom?” You asked, smiling deviously at her.

“Oh yeah, I do. I’ll do it when we’re leaving.” She replied, glaring at you.

“But it’s Friday Rob, they close thirty minutes earlier than us.” Steve chimed in.

“Shit, yeah I totally forgot that. You wanna come with me?” Robin asked, eyes widening as you shook your head.

“No it’s ok, I’ll just keep Steve company.” You grinned, licking your lips at the boy as she gritted her teeth at you.

“I think he’ll be ok by himself for a couple of minutes, right ding—“

“So, you thinking of applying for the job here?” Steve asks, rubbing the back of his neck as Robin sighs heavily, grabbing the sweater and walking away unbeknownst to either of you, muttering at you both to use protection as she left the store.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, I know Robin really wants me to but I’m just not so sure.” You reply as he moves from behind the counter to walk closer towards you.

“That’s too bad, I think you would have been a great fit here.” He smiles as you tilt your head.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” You ask as he licks his lips before speaking.

“Well, I mean you’ve already got an advantage being friends with the two best ice cream slingers in Indiana for one, so training will be a total breeze. Plus, you’ve already got a shit load of experience with hyperactive children working at the arcade and well, something tells me you’d look pretty cute in the uniform too.” Steve flirts as you playfully nudge him.

“I don’t think I’d pull it off as good as you do, Steve.” You reply as he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, my ass does look pretty good in these shorts, right?” He challenges as your eyes widen, trying to hold back a smile.

“You totally heard.”

“I totally did.” He grins, moving closer again as you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I stand by my observation, you do have a great ass.”

“Thanks, honey.” He says, gazing at you with a look that sends a lightening bolt straight to your core. “So, there’s no way I could convince you to join the team, huh?”

“What’d you have in mind, Harrington?” You ask as he steps in between your legs, closing the space between you.

“Well sweetheart, I’m a pro at oral persuasion. I’m pretty sure I could get you to come aboard.” He whispers, hovering over your lips and you desperately want him to kiss you.

“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re practically screwing on the counter!” Robin yells as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Jesus Robin, we were not screwing!” Steve defends as she shoots you both a look of distain.

“You would have been if I hadn’t walked in on you. Shame on you, this is a family friendly business!” She teases as you roll your eyes. “Relax Buckley, the place is empty.”

“Well I’m not losing my job because dingus can’t keep his dick in his pants around pretty girls! In fact, we’re leaving right now because you two can’t be trusted with each other!”

“Hey, wait a minute, we haven’t even cleaned up yet Robin!” Steve argues as his colleague brushes past him and into the back room to grab her stuff.

“You should have thought about that before you tried to get into my friend’s pants. Later dingus!” She waves, grabbing your hand as you wink at Steve, blowing him a teasing kiss.

“Shit.” He sighs, putting a hand through his hair as he walked behind the counter again. It was only then that he noticed the small sticky note with your name and number on it, a little love heart drawn after the message: Call me x

Steve smiled at the note, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping as he made his way into the back room. He walked over to Robin’s data board, finally drawing a line under the You Rule section before heading back out to quickly clean and close up, because he couldn’t wait to call you when he got home.

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Coworkers With Benefits – Gator Tillman

Warnings: sneaking around kink, protected sex, public sex, rough sex, language

A moan got stuck in my throat when someone walked up behind me and started making out with my neck.

"Gator," I gasped when he bit my earlobe. "Baby. . . We're at work. . . What if. . . Holy shit, baby." I couldn't resist pushing my ass back against his hips and start grinding against him.

"Fuck, baby girl," Gator moaned as he moved with me. "I love fucking at work. It's so fucking sexy."

"Yeah," I moaned. "But it could also get me fired."

I gasped when he pulled away and grabbed my arms, roughly turning me around.

"I would never let that happen," he said under his breath.

"But I'm your receptionist," I whispered. "And isn't there a rule about officers dating or dating someone. . ."

Gator cut me off by grabbing my face and pressing his lips back to mine. We didn't finish that conversation. Instead, we focused on finishing what we had barely started.

He glanced around the empty station before turning back to me with a smirk. I felt the butterflies in my stomach go crazy as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his dad's office.

The second the door was closed, he threw me against it. He smashed his lips onto mine as he trapped me between him and the door. I moaned and reached around to grab his ass as he started grinding against me.

Gator tore away from my lips and started kissing my neck as his hands slid down my body. One hand found my ass while the other found the waistband of my pants.

I leaned my head against the door as Gator licked up and down my neck.

"Come on, baby girl," he grunted as he slammed his body against mine. "Moan for me, sexy."

"We should really stop," I gasped between heavy breaths.

"I can't," Gator grunted as he picked me up and threw me onto the couch in his dad's office. I moaned loudly as he started kissing my neck, slowly moving his lips down my chest.

"What if your dad comes back?" I arched my back and moaned when he bit my collarbone. Gator's lips continued to suck on my collarbone as he unbuttoned my uniform. The second it was open, Gator attached his lips to my chest.

"Fuck!" I yelled. I felt him let out a deep chuckle against the skin of my chest as I started taking off his pants.

"No one is here," he growled against the space between my breasts.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

That's all Gator needed to hear. In a matter of minutes, we were completely undressed, rolling our bodies against each other on his dad's couch.

I kissed his chest as he moved to grab a condom he had hidden in the back of the table at the end of the couch. His lips returned to mine as he leaned down and put it on. The second it was on, Gator grabbed my hips. I wrapped my leg around his waist, squeezing to tell him I was ready.

We let out matching moans that turned into grunts as Gator pushed into me. We instantly started thrusting in sync. With each thrust, our moans got louder and our movements got rougher.

"Holy shit, Officer Sexy," I gasped when he pressed against my G-spot. "Keep going."

"You got it, Officer Baby Girl," he moaned through clenched teeth. I loudly moaned/yelled his name when he started pushing harder and rougher into me.

"Fucking hell, Gator!"

Gator shut me up by wrapping his mouth around my right breast, using his tongue to play with my nipple. While he satisfied me, I started doing the one thing that drove him crazy.

"Fuck," he moaned against my breast as I squeezed myself around him. With a few more moans and thrusts, we pushed each other over the edge and forced us to reach our peaks.

"Shit!" Gator gasped as we released in sync. He kept himself inside me as we came down from our orgasms. When we had barely caught our breaths, Gator slowly pulled out of me. Before climbing off me, he leaned down and kissed me.

"Get back to work," he smirked with his face inches from mine. "Or I might have to bring you back in here and spank you."

"Kinky," I giggled.

"You know you love it," he said, lowering his voice.

"Just as much as I love you," I said before I could stop.

Gator leaned back and studied me. I opened and closed my mouth, unable to form any more words. Before either one of us could respond, Gator's phone started ringing. As he went to answer it, I quickly started getting dressed.

"Hey, Dad."

I could feel his eyes on me as I finished getting dressed, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Yeah," I heard him say as I walked out of Roy's office. "I'm at the station. What do you need?"

* * * * *

Gator's POV

After Y/N's confession and going back to work, she didn't talk to me. It seemed as if she refused to be in the same room with me. I wanted her to be. I needed her to be. I was still trying to wrap my head around her confession, but I didn't want her thinking that I didn't love her back.

Of course, I did.

Y/N was the only one in town who looked at me like I was me and not my dad's son. She listened to me. She talked to me. She made me laugh. She made me smile. She made me happy. And I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making her happy.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N?" I asked a random officer whose name I'd never bothered to learn.

"I think she went home," he shrugged.

"What do you mean?" I panicked.

"She said she had a migraine," the guy said as he eyed me. He rolled his eyes before going back to work. I went back to my desk, unable to wrap my head around this.

Y/N left work.

She left because of what happened. She left because she told me she loved me and I didn't say anything back. Instead, I took a call from my dad. She thinks I don't care about her.

I stared at the file in my hands, but nothing was sinking in. When the phone started ringing, I answered it without breaking the staring contest.

"What?"

"Is this Gator Tillman?"

I slowly put the file down and sat up. "Yes, this is him."

"Hi. I'm calling from Sunrise Hospital."

"What?"

"We have a Y/F/N Y/L/N here in the emergency room," the nurse continued, "and we have you listed as her emergency contact."

"I'm her. . . Wait, what happened to her?"

"We couldn't get much out of her before she passed out," she explained, making my stomach drop. "It seems it was a home invasion gone wrong."

"Shit," I mumbled. I looked around the station, hoping my dad was nearby. The nurse started to say something, but I hung up and ran out of my office when I saw my dad walk by.

"Dad!" I yelled.

"What's your problem?" He scoffed.

"Y/N is in the hospital."

"Who?"

I pushed down my anger and clarified, "Y/N, Dad. Our receptionist."

"Oh," he said with no emotion in his voice. "Right. Her."

I tried even harder to control my anger as I explained, "Apparently, someone broke into her home earlier today."

"We didn't get the call," he shrugged.

I hadn't even thought about that. I didn't care. There were more important things to worry about.

"She's hurt, Dad."

"Guess we better get to the hospital," he sighed.

"We should send some officers to her place," I said quickly. My dad sent me a look and I didn't care if he could read me. He debated for a second before sighing again and nodding his head.

As my dad drove us, I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. If my dad caught on to my weirdness, he didn't say anything. The second we arrived, I practically ran inside. I asked the nearest nurse where Y/N was but she couldn't help me.

"Then why the hell are you standing here?!" I snapped. "Find me someone who actually knows shit."

"Will you calm down?" My dad sighed, saving the nurse I was yelling at. "I'm sure Y/N's fine. The guy was an idiot. He attacked the police's assistant. We'll find him."

"Receptionist," I automatically corrected. My dad sent me a weird look, but I was focused on the door separating me from Y/N.

"What is your problem?" He scoffed. I held my breath as he figured it out. He let out a deep chuckle when he connected the dots. "How long?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice dropping.

"How long have you been sleeping with Y/N?"

"It's not. . . We just. . . We started a few months after she started working for us," I sighed, giving in.

"She's been working for us for over a year," he chuckled.

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. Instead, he sat next to me and patted my shoulder.

"I'll go to the nurses' station and find out what's going on with your girl," he said softer than I've ever heard him speak. "Then I'll make her break-in a top priority. You stay here and wait for her to wake up."

He patted my shoulder once before standing up. As he walked away, I spoke up.

"Thanks, Dad."

* * * * *

Y/N was in surgery when we arrived at the hospital. If I hadn't hung up the phone or had been more patient with the nurses, they would've told me that.

Apparently, Y/N took a pretty bad beating from the robber. He knocked her around and tried to kick in her ribs. One of her broken ribs almost punctured her lung. They had to be extremely careful to prevent her lung from completely collapsing.

I lost track of how long Y/N was in surgery. I went back and forth between sitting restlessly and pacing across the waiting room. My dad was in and out as he talked to the officers working this case. He tried to get me to wait at home, but he quickly found that I wasn't going anywhere.

"It's serious, isn't it?" My dad asked as he came back from checking in with the officers.

"Y/N's injuries? I don't know. I hope it's not too serious. I mean, they said that she was just. . ."

"I didn't mean her injuries, Gator," he cut me off. "I meant you and her. It's serious, isn't it?"

"I think so," I said, finally sitting down. "I mean. . . She told me. . . And I feel. . ."

"Spit it out, Gator."

"I love her," I blurted out. I let out a deep sigh before repeating, "I love her, Dad."

"Does she feel the same?"

His question surprised me. "She does," I said, my voice dropping. "She actually told me earlier this morning."

"And I'm guessing you didn't tell her you felt the same?" He asked, almost laughing.

"I was caught off-guard," I sighed, angrily running my fingers through my hair. I jumped up and started pacing again. "Of course, I've thought about how I felt about her over the last couple of months. How could I not? I've never felt like this, Dad. Like ever. She makes me insanely happy. I could be having the worst day of my life and the second she walks into the room, it's better. It doesn't matter what horrible things are happening that day. Seeing her makes all of it go away. I can't imagine my life without her, Dad. And the thought of some low-life, punk-ass, son of a. . ."

"Mr. Tillman, you asked me to come get you the second Ms. Y/L/N was out of surgery?" A nurse cut off my rambling.

"How is she?!"

"The surgery went great," she smiled at me. "In fact, she's awake. And she's asking for you."

I followed at the nurse's heels as she led me down the hallway. When she got to a certain room, she stopped. She turned toward me, but I didn't bother to listen to her tell me to go in.

I swung the door open, instantly freezing at the sight of Y/N in the hospital bed. I held my breath as she slowly turned her head toward me. The small smile that spread across her face made my heart jump into my throat.

"Gator," she said weakly. She started to say something else, but I ran to her side. I grabbed her face and smashed my lips onto hers. Our lips instantly started moving in sync as she reached up and grabbed my arms.

"I love you too," I gasped as I broke the kiss. I looked into her eyes as they filled with tears. "I didn't get the chance to confess this to you earlier," I continued. "But I should've. I should've ignored that call and told you how much I love you."

"Gator. . ."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," I sighed as I sat on the edge of her bed, holding both of her hands in mine. "I know our relationship has mainly been us sneaking around, but I don't want that anymore. I don't. I want a real relationship with you, Y/N. I want to be able to drive you to work. I want to be able to take you to lunch. I want to be able to kiss you goodbye before going out to answer a call. I want to be able to hold you in my arms when I get back and you're relieved. I want to be able to take you home each night. I want to be able to warn the new officers to leave you alone because you're taken. I want to be able to have everyone we work with know that you're mine. I want everyone in town to know that I love you."

Y/N cut me off by grabbing my face and smashing her lips onto mine. We relaxed back into the hospital bed with me slightly hovering over her as our lips moved in sync. We would've continued what we did in my dad's office this morning if someone hadn't walked in.

"Oh!" My dad laughed. "Sorry for the interruption. Then again, a girl who just took a beating shouldn't have a two-hundred-pound man on top of her."

"Dad," I said between my teeth. I sat up and started to get off the bed, but Y/N grabbed my arm. When I looked at her, all I could see was fear in her eyes.

"I'm right here," I whispered as I sat on the edge of the bed. "I won't leave you."

"Promise?" She asked, her voice breaking.

"I promise," I smiled. My smile fell when I saw the look on my dad's face.

My dad cleared his throat and replaced this amazing tension between Y/N and me with an awkward tension. "We should really talk about what happened, Y/N."

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice still soft as she paid special attention to the hospital blanket. I watched as she slowly looked up at my dad. "I know you have a procedure to follow and questions to ask. Go ahead."

"First things first," he started, "did you get a good look at who did this to you? Was it a group? Was it only one man? Was it an ex-boyfriend? Was it anyone you recognized?"

"It was one guy," she cut him off.

"Wait," I said slowly. "Y/N, do you know who did this to you?"

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "You arrested him last week," she said, her voice soft. "I think his name was Dennis Jones or Johnson?"

"Dennis Jackson?" I asked, subconsciously tightening my hands into fists as I jumped up. "The asshole who gets drunk every Friday night and spends all day Saturday in the holding cell, just to leave and get drunk again Saturday night? He did this to you?!"

"Yeah," she said, her voice shaky.

"Did he say anything to you?" My father asked her.

"Not really," she stuttered.

"Not really?" He challenged. I sent him a glare but he didn't even bother to look at me.

"I mean. . ." She explained slowly. "He kept mumbling about 'the perfect payback'. He wouldn't say anything else."

"My guess," Dad sighed as he turned toward me, "he knows about you two and wanted to get back at you by hurting you."

"About us. . ." Y/N didn't finish her question as my father pointed at her. "Gator?" She whispered.

"I told my dad," I said softly.

"You what?!" She gasped. Her anger was taken away when it turned to pain.

I jumped forward and helped her lay back down. "It's going to be fine," I stuttered.

"He could fire me," she said through clenched teeth.

"I'm not going to fire you," my dad sighed. "I don't care who my son is sleeping with this week. Is there anything else we need to know about the attack?"

"No," she said, not looking away from me. "Nothing else."

Y/N and I stared at each other as my father left. The second the door closed, I defended myself.

"I know how that sounded," I said quickly. "But my Dad is just an ass. You know that you're the only woman that I've been sleeping with. I'm really not that big of a player."

"Gator. . ."

"I'm not like that," I said again. "The town just likes to spread rumors. I swear, Y/N, you are the only girl that I've been seeing lately. I'm not cheating on you. I would never do that to you. I swear."

"Gator. . ."

"I would never cheat on a woman. Especially a woman like you, Y/N. You're different than any girl I've been with. And to be honest, I haven't been with a lot of women. But you. . . You're different. Every time I wake up next to you, all I can think of is that I'm not good enough. You deserve a guy who's as incredible as you are. You're too good for me, Y/N. My biggest fear is losing you. I don't want you to wake up one morning and realize that you deserve better and you leave me to go find it."

Y/N grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the edge of the bed. She grabbed my face and pulled me to her. I smiled the second her lips touched mine. As our lips moved in sync, Y/N pulled me so I was hovering over her. I broke the kiss and pressed my forehead to hers.

"I love you, Y/N," I whispered. "And I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you sooner."

"It's okay," she whispered back to me. "At least you told me."

"I promise to always say it back."

"I love you, Gator," she giggled.

"I love you too, Y/N."

Part 2

[ssweetleaf]

Gator with a girl who's very girly (like short dresses, pink nails, cute jewellery, the whole deal) and he's absolutely ruining her in the back of his car, pounding into her until her mascara is running down her cheeks from crying because he's making her feel so good.

went in a slightly different turn for some reason, sorry, but very mean!gator ahead!!

SMUT 18+ below

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Gator had you pinned to the backseat, your ass held high and back arched all prettily for him, brains turned to mush as he pounded into you at a pace your hips could barely keep up with.

“There ya go, nice ‘n’ slutty, just how I like ya.” He cooed, all condescending, a big hand squeezing at one of your ass cheeks before inflicting a sharp blow, the print of his palm searing against your skin.

Your pretty skirt had been flipped up, his other hand gripping the material with white knuckles, the perfect pleats now creased from his carelessness.

You’d gone all this way to make yourself pretty, spending hours on your makeup— bambi eyes and soft, pink lips, little hearts on your cheekbones you’d perfected just for him to ruin.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, smudging your makeup, leaving long, black tracks of mascara in their wake, your lips quivering and opening in sobs with every inward thrust.

“Oh,” he cooed, mocking your pout with one of his own, leaning down to smooth some hair out of your face. “Am I makin’ you upset, baby? Am I bein’ too mean?”

Gator’s ruts slowed, awaiting your reply, hushing you and petting your hair as if he actually gave a shit, while your cheek smushed into his upholstery.

You nodded, sniffling, completely embarrassed.

“Made myself all pretty for you—” you hiccuped, whining when the notch of his tip nudged your sweet spot, “thought you’d make love to me.”

Gator snorted, a loud laugh bounced off the walls of his cop car and you wriggled underneath him.

“Such a shame, hon,” he sighed, wiping a tear from his eye, one that, unlike yours, was from how pathetically hilarious he found you. “I don’t date stupid girls.”

[say-al0e]

Something In Your Mouth

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: You've had a bad week and Gator's tired of the attitude. He thinks you'll feel better with something in your mouth. Warnings: A few degrading names, Gator's kind of a dick (not really but, sorta), rough oral (m receiving), and if there's anything else, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Gator Tillman x fem!Reader Word Count: 3k (why am I like this? the world may never know)

The thud of Gator’s boots against hardwood floor echoed through the house as he navigated the familiar floor plan. Though your shoulders relaxed at his appearance, body no longer wound as tight as it’d felt all day now that he was home, you kept your place at the sink.

From the corner of your eye, with hands buried in lukewarm water, you watched as he shucked his vest and jacket - leaving both hanging over the back of a kitchen chair and serving as a reminder to ask him about tacking up coat hooks in the hallway when he had another day off - before his belt and thigh holster followed. You knew they’d all be dutifully moved into their rightful places later, but you still rolled your eyes at his habit of leaving pieces of his uniform scattered about the house.

As you continued clearing up the dishes, gaze pointedly on your work rather than your fiancé, you ruminated on the week you’d had. Nothing of note had gone wrong, nothing had been particularly taxing, but everything felt overwhelming. Things were average, normal, fine. But you’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed days ago and had been in a sour mood all week and it seemed that your mood had finally rubbed off on Gator as he huffed with each step he took.

Another roll of your eyes as he opened the fridge and rummaged through the produce and containers of leftovers to, no doubt, find the beer that had been shoved to the back but you said nothing. Even as you finished the last of the dishes and washed your hands, deliberately taking your time, you remained quiet and waited for him to break the stalemate.

Gator took a few more steps, shuffled around a bit more, before you heard him settle onto the couch. The crack of the can opening, a sip of beer, before he huffed an annoyed breath. “C’mere,” he demanded, voice even in the quiet of your home, “and get on your knees.”

There were a thousand words you’d been expecting to hear, a thousand snarky remarks you’d been waiting to sneer at, but the calm demand wasn’t one. With narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, you turned to face him. There was a moment of silence, filled only with the quiet drip of water running off drying dishes, before you folded your arms over your chest and lifted your chin in an act of defiance. “What?”

The order was clear, one you’d heard a hundred times before in similar situations, but the mood you’d been in for nearly a week made you want to roll your eyes at something that would normally set your skin ablaze. Gator’s own eyes narrowed at your question, brown darkening with an annoyance only magnified by the attitude you’d had all week, as he took another sip.

“On your fucking knees,” he repeated, enunciating each word clearly as his gaze traveled down your body and came to a stop at your chest. The thin, threadbare t-shirt you wore now felt impossibly revealing - left you feeling more naked than if you were standing bare before him - but you resisted the urge to lift your hands and cover yourself as he inhaled sharply through his nose. “Now.”

It was slow, deliberate, but uttered so forcefully that he left you little room for argument. Still, his gaze left you pinned to the floor. There was something impossibly heavy in the look he gave you, something that seared you to the bone and rendered you thoughtless - unable to remember exactly what you’d felt before feeling the weight of his full attention on you.

Though you were tempted to huff, to argue and demand that he make you, you were in no mood to fight with him. The sweep of his eyes over your frame had your skin prickling, feverish despite the snow falling outside, and dissolved any remaining fight. That anger, that warmth, was replaced with a desire so heady it nearly stole your breath as you crossed the room in a few short steps and dropped to your knees in front of him.

As you settled before him and glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, Gator took another sip from his beer. Those dark eyes never left your kneeling form, daring you to move - to disobey - as he wiped at his mouth with his hand.

Another moment of his intense regard, brows pinched and mouth set in a thin line. “You’ve had an attitude all fucking week,” he began, voice low as he tipped his head to get a better look at you. “I’ve tried to be patient and wait it out, but I’m tired of walking on eggshells in my own goddamn house. So, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

Gator sat back then, pressed himself comfortably into the plush of the couch, and spread his legs wide. As he reached for his beer, body stretching and biceps flexing, you weren’t quite sure where to look. There was the expanse of skin exposed by the white undershirt - the smooth column of his throat, the sliver of his chest, the strong curve of his biceps - or the camouflage fabric covering his thighs; it was all too much, more overwhelming than the unnamed emotions you’d been grappling with all week, so you settled for his face and watched as he scowled.

“I’m gonna drink my beer, and you’re gonna put that smartass mouth to good use.” Another sip of his beer then, and your eyes fell to his throat, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “And when you’re done swallowing my come,” he continued, eyes flashing with blaze of fire when you inhaled sharply, “you’re gonna thank me for letting you. Then, if I’m feeling generous, I might fuck you later.”

An argument lingered on the tip of your tongue - a whine of, “That’s not fair,” or a withering, “Suck it yourself, asshole,” - but Gator was quick to quiet you before you could so much as open your mouth.

Cold fingers, damp with condensation from the can, fell to your jaw as he leaned forward to meet your narrowed gaze. “It’s in your best interest not to talk back,” he advised, warm breath fanning over your face as he pressed his fingers into your skin. “If I have to punish you tonight, I’m not going to be very nice.”

The threat was hollow - Gator would never hurt you, would never cause you any discomfort that you didn’t ask for - but it still sent a shiver down your spine. Your breathing had grown shallow, ragged in your own ears as heat bloomed in the pit of your stomach, and he knew that you were in the palm of his hand.

This was something that you both needed. Gator needed to be given control, some semblance of power in an otherwise powerless existence; you needed to step outside of yourself, to be given permission to stop thinking, if only for a second, and give in to your deepest desires. It was something you both loved, a dynamic that worked well, because you were equal in every way. You split the bills and the housework - though you did most of the cooking because despite Gator’s very earnest, very best efforts to learn, he still had miles to go - and, on days he felt overwhelmed with work or feelings he couldn’t quite name, Gator was happy to let you put him in his place.

But this was a game that you both loved. And while you weren’t thrilled about the discomfort you’d felt all week, you were thrilled with Gator’s solution.

Arousal, sticky and warm, flooded your veins as he released your jaw and tossed his arm over the back of the couch. He pointedly glanced at you, then his camouflage covered bulge, before he raised an eyebrow. “My cock’s not gonna suck itself, sweetheart.”

Immediately, you missed the weight of his hand on your skin but bit your tongue as you reached out to unbutton and unzip his work pants. There was little whining about his lack of touch or how desperate you were to feel him would do, not when you’d been prickly all week - not when you’d huffed at his efforts to comfort you with physical touch for days on end - so you did as you were told.

Gator watched intently, dark eyes tracking your every movement, as you tugged at the stiff material. When you were met with the absence of the black band of his briefs, you cast him an unimpressed glance. In response, he simply lifted his hips just enough for you to free him from the confines of his pants.

Seeing him bare always left you with warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach. Slick gathered between your thighs, a slow ache that reminded you of just how long it had been since you’d felt his touch - a hell of your own making, you chided yourself - and your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you shuffled closer.

The sight of him never grew less impressive, never less achingly beautiful, and you worried a little about the power he held over you as your hands began to move. With one hand pressed to his thigh, you wrapped the other around the base of his cock - hard, warm, tip ruddy and glistening with a bead of precum - and leaned in to trace the vein running along the underside with your tongue.

A hiss escaped him as his fingers curled into the aluminum of the beer can producing a tinny crunch, before his free hand fell to your head. Thick fingers tangled in your hair, gripped firmly as he shifted his hips, and you knew that was the only warning you would get.

While he usually enjoyed the attention, got off on being the center of your universe - reveled in the time you spent doting on him, making him feel larger than life with every swipe of your fingers or tongue - this was not the moment to take your time. He wanted release, wanted to claim you in a way that had you both burning where you sat, and you gave it to him.

Gator’s fingers tightened in your hair as you took the tip between your lips, pausing only to swipe your tongue and lap at the precum weeping from it. A deep exhale drew your attention, had you lifting your eyes from the sliver of exposed skin to his face - dark eyes trained on your face, watching intently even as he sank into the cushions - and you did nothing to bite back the soft whimper the sight of him drew.

Usually gelled hair had begun falling, a combination of moisture from the snow and his own frustration, and your stomach clenched at the few strands that fell across his forehead. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, to brush your fingers over his heated skin, but you knew he wouldn’t respond kindly in that moment. So, you settled for the next best thing and allowed your fingers to grip the plush of his thigh as you lowered your head.

The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue drew a soft groan from you - made it difficult for you to remember any of the unwieldy emotions you’d been grappling with all week, difficult to remember anything other than Gator - as you built a slow, steady rhythm.

Even with the annoyance he’d felt, the ease with which he’d demanded you make up for your attitude on your knees, he still allowed you a few moments to acclimate to his size before the grip on your hair tightened. Heavy fingers pressed into your scalp and began to guide your movements.

“That’s it,” he hummed, using his grip on your hair to roughly fuck into your mouth. A few shallow thrusts, not quite pressing you down entirely, before he lifted his hips and you found your nose buried in the dark hair around the base of his cock. The tip punched at the back of your throat, hitting deep enough to draw a whine from deep in your chest, and Gator tutted at the sound. “This is what you needed, isn’t it? Needed to be used like a good little cockslut, put in your fucking place.”

When your lashes fluttered, breath coming in short puffs from your nose as your tongue swirled around the warm velvet of his cock, Gator laughed. It was a harsh sound, though not unkind, that quickly morphed into a moan. “Jesus, look at that.” With a clatter, Gator set the can on the coffee table and brought his hand to your cheek. He thumbed at the errant tears leaking from your eyes and exhaled heavily. “Look pretty on your knees, my good little wife.”

The wedding was still weeks away but Gator had taken to calling you his wife the moment he slid the ring onto your finger. And as readily as he rolled with the equality in your relationship, the give and the take, there was something about the game - the moments of pretend, the moments where Gator could play the part of big, strong man while you settled on your knees before him - that you both reveled in.

Sticky arousal pooled between your thighs and a quick glance at his face told you that Gator knew just how desperate you were beginning to feel. He could see the shift of your thighs, the heave of your chest; could feel the desperate press of your fingers digging into his thighs, the eager bob of your head as you took everything he gave you. 

Despite the ache in your jaw, the stinging in your knees, you swallowed the salty slick dripping from the tip of his cock as your eyes lifted to meet his once more.

“Much better use of that pretty mouth,” he continued, rarely able to remain quiet for long when you were settled between his thighs. “Hard to be a bitch when your mouth’s full.”

When you cut your eyes at him in warning - despite the throbbing in your untouched clit, the ache you felt as you waited eagerly for your turn to receive his undivided attention, he was toeing the line of too much - he reached for your free hand and squeezed it in apology. He was close, teetering on the edge of release after a week of lost attention, and you forgave him with a swallow around his cock.

The groan you received in return shot straight to your core, had you shifting your thighs and clenching around nothing. His grip grew harsher, fingers trapped tight in your locks as he set a brutal pace, and you sank into him fully as he chased his high.

A few more moments of the tip of his cock punching the back of your throat, his fingers pressed to your scalp, the depth of his voice as he loudly proclaimed his pleasure. Gator was all that existed, all encompassing and dissolving the tension of a sour week, and you found yourself moaning with him when he came with a groan.

Just as he’d ordered, you swallowed the bitter warmth of his spend. And when you were done, when he released his grip on your hair and allowed you to pull away, you opened your mouth and displayed your compliance. Gator hummed, pleased, and waited with an expectantly raised brow.

“Thank you for letting me swallow your come, sir.” It was a rasp, voice spent and throat ticklish, but it was exactly what he’d wanted. You could see the flash in his eyes - the confirmation that he would rather walk across glass barefoot than deny himself the pleasure of being buried between your thighs - as you fluttered your lashes at him.

With a hum, he reached out for you. He hauled you up easily, tugged you onto the couch to join him, and cupped your cheek in his hand. Warm fingers pressed into your skin and you were unsurprised by the eager press of his mouth to yours.

Gator tasted of mint and cheep beer - the Zyns an upgrade from the early days when you were met with the harsh bite of his dip and the acidic sweetness of Mt. Dew - but you melted into him just the same. His thumb brushed at the few errant tears tracking down your cheeks, wiped them away in the softest motion, and your heart clenched as you gently squeezed his wrist.

“‘M sorry for being so bitch all week,” you mumbled, eyes cast down to avoid his soft gaze as you stroked at the warm skin of his wrist. “Dunno what was wrong. Just off, I guess. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

A soft hum of acknowledgement escaped him, an understanding as he also found himself struggling to make sense of powerful emotions on occasion, as he leaned in for another eager kiss - an acceptance, forgiving. “You feeling any better?”

The question was muffled by your lips, warm breath fanning over your skin and needling at the already rubbed raw nerves, but you appreciated it just the same. “Mm.” You were - not wholly yourself yet but better, on the mend - but there was always a way to feel better. “You could always fuck the attitude out of me, just to be sure,” you offered, lips curving at the corners as you finally met his eyes.

“Brat.”

There was no bite, no malice in the word. It was soft, fond, and you could see the curve of his mouth as he fought a bright smile. The eyes that had been so dark all night had grown warm, honey brown and so sweet as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your mouth. The stubble that lined his jaw prickled your skin but it grounded you, kept you wholly in the moment, and you were grateful for it as his words cut through the haze.

“Want you naked on the bed when I get in there.” It was whispered against your lips, quiet but ringing in your ears as you felt your heart thunder in your chest. “We’ll get rid of whatever attitude’s left.”

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Author's Note: Fuck if I know, man. I just write what the inspiration tells me to write. I guess let me know if you want to be tagged if I write more for the garbage man.