#I feel like that would SLAP for Gator

[spookysteddie]

Why am I awake right now?

Two reason:

1) I found this interview (that’s prob v old give me a break) which then led me to find the house Ethel Cain basically wrote “House in Nebraska” off of. So now I’m silently thanking Tallahassee for that fucking song.

2) Also thinking about her song “Gibson Girl” and how banger (and sad) that shit is but how I wanna write a fic with it. But like… not to the song, just with how the beat makes me feel.

DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? Someone tell me if that makes sense (genuinely)

[keeryhours]

don’t forget (you’re mine) - gator tillman

Gator Tillman x female reader

Masterlist

Gator Tillman Masterlist

1k Celebration Masterlist

Summary:

Gator interrupts a night out with your friends.

1k celebration prompt - “If you make me pull over, I swear you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), restraints, sex in the police cruiser, dirty talk, reader calls Gator “daddy”

Word Count: 2k

A/N:

I’m so excited how many of you guys requested Gator for the celebration! I love writing him! You can still join in and celebrate with me here �� :) My blurbs for my blurb celebration keep ending up being too long, oops

The flashing lights and pulsing music of the club filled the atmosphere around you. You wore a black top with a tiny little skirt and a sash that said Maid of Honor. It was your best friend’s bachelorette party, and you had gone all out.

“You’re the love of my life,” your best friend, Leah, drunkenly said as she draped herself over you. “I should ditch Tom and marry you instead.”

“Yes, you should,” you agreed with a giggle.

“I would be better for you than Gator,” she continued. “Gator doesn’t treat you right.”

You pursed your lips. You didn’t really want to talk about Gator right now, not when you were supposed to be having fun. “I know you would, babe.”

“Come dance with me?” Leah asked, suddenly standing and pulling you to join her. “I wanna dance.”

You laughed as she dragged you out of your seat and started climbing onto a table. “Come up with me!”

You climbed up with her, the two of you dancing together on the small tabletop. Your other friends laughed and took pictures on their cell phones, posting to their stories.

“What’s going on here?”

The unwelcome voice boomed from behind you, and you immediately groaned. You turned to find Gator standing there, wearing his cargo pants with sheriff vest and his sunglasses pushed up on his head.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “A little birdie told me you were out tonight, causing a public disturbance.”

You just stared at him. “Gator, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Doesn’t look that way t’me,” he said. “Looks like you’re havin’ a little too much fun.”

“Is that against the law now, officer?” You taunted him, climbing down from the table.

“Are you talking back to an officer of the law?” Gator asked, his expression utterly serious. You couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

“Yeah, I am,” you decided to push him. “What are you going to do about- hey!”

Gator grabbed your arms and twisted you around, slapping the cold handcuffs around your wrists. You were speechless as your friends watched Gator arrest you, pulling you up to stand. “You can come with me then, mama.”

“Gator, this is fucking ridiculous,” you protested as he began marching you out of the club. “No one complained. You just wanted to come be the center of attention.”

Gator didn’t answer. He opened the back door of his SUV police cruiser and pushed you inside. “Are you being serious right now??” You called through the door once he’d shut you in.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, driving out of the parking lot of the club. You watched the lights fade in the mirror, leaving your friends (and fun) behind.

“You are such a dick,” you grumbled. Gator tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. “Does it make you feel big and powerful, coming and ruining Leah’s party? Did it make you feel like a winner?”

“Jus’ doing my job. Like I said, I got a call you were causing a public disturbance-“

“Bullshit! No one called you!”

“So I came right away to see what was going on.” He held his hands up. “And what do I find? You, dancing on a table in that tiny little skirt.”

So that’s what this was about. “Yeah? You had a problem with my outfit?”

“Like I said, I’m just doing my job-“

“I bet you were mad I wasn’t wearing it for you,” you teased. “I bet I wouldn’t have been in trouble if I were with you, with your hand underneath it.”

Gator tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s inappropriate-“

“Oh, come on, Gator,” your voice dropped an octave, your tone sultry. “You tellin’ me you don’t like it?”

“I don’t like you whorin’ yourself around in it at the club, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t you like seeing me in it though?” You tilted your head to the side, your boobs pushed forward from the way the cuffs held your hands behind your back. “Bet you wish you could hike it up and fuck me in it, don’t you?”

Gator gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything.

“You jealous that the others got to see what’s yours?” You were practically purring into his ear. “You know this pussy belongs to you, daddy. It’s yours to fuck whenever you want.”

Gator let out an involuntary groan, his fingers digging into the leather of the steering wheel. “Stop.”

“I’m so wet and I can’t even touch myself,” you pouted. “Can’t stop thinking about your big cock, how it barely fits, how you pull me back onto it every time you fuck me…”

Gator slammed his hand onto the wheel. “You’re pushin’ me, baby. If you make me pull over, I swear you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

A smirk grew across your lips. “I’ll be so good for you if you pull over.”

“If I pull over, it ain’t gonna be about what you want. It’ll be me taking what I need from you, and you letting daddy do whatever he wants. Understood?”

You clenched your legs together, the throbbing between them becoming unbearable. “Yes, daddy.”

Gator pulled the vehicle over to the side of the lone road, kicking up dirt into a large cloud. He killed the engine and hopped out of the car, and next thing you knew, he was opening the back door and manhandling you until you were bent over the seat with your ass in the air.

You felt Gator’s hands over your smooth thighs, teasing the ache between your legs. You wanted him, needed him. You needed to feel his thick length splitting you open, the way he would spear you on his cock again and again until you couldn’t take it anymore. That was why you kept coming back.

He pushed your little skirt up around your hips, your panties being forcibly ripped down your thighs. Before you could even process it his mouth was attached to your cunt, tongue lapping at your folds as he moaned against you. You cried out, body lurching forward but Gator held you steady.

“Fuck, tastes so good,” he groaned. “I’ve been wanting to get my mouth on your pussy since I saw you tonight. Tiny little skirt leavin’ nothing to the imagination. You’re such a little slut.” His palm came down against your ass, leaving a bright red hand print.

He buried his face in your pussy, eating it like a man starved. Maybe he had been starving for it, unable to stay away from you tonight, drawn to you like a siren. Maybe you couldn’t stay mad at him when he was making you feel this good.

He rubbed a hand over his throbbing erection in his cargo pants, the taste of you only getting him going even more. When he pulled away he pulled your hips, your body halfway hanging out of the SUV with him right behind you.

“You talk so damn much,” he said, and you could hear him unbuckling his belt as he spoke. “Yet you have nothin’ smart to say when my face is buried in your cunt.”

You whined, missing the feeling of him where you needed him the most. You didn’t wait long before you felt the head of his cock tracing through your folds, collecting your wetness on his length. As if you could ever forget how big he is (and boy does he let it affect his ego), you’re certainly reminded of it now as he prepares to fuck you.

“No condom tonight, baby,” he said, and you felt the tip of him slipping inside your pulsing cunt. “Need ta feel every inch of you around my cock. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You hated that he knew that. That he could read you like a book, could tell you’d been aching for his cock, aching for him to fuck you raw. “Gator,” you cried out, your handcuffed hands grasping onto each other for some semblance of leverage.

Gator thrusted into you hard, burying himself in to the hilt. You nearly screamed at the sudden feeling, and you heard Gator chuckle behind you. “Did ya forget how big it is?” He teased. “How deep it fills you up?”

How could you? It was all you thought about when you were apart.

He began pounding into you at a brutal pace, hands gripping bruises onto your hips as he pulled your body against his to meet every thrust. You were powerless to do anything but let him fuck you the way he wanted, just like he’d promised.

“Bet you wish I’d take the cuffs off, huh?” He continued teasing you, even when he was panting from how hard he was fucking you. “Bet you wish you could touch yourself. But you’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you? You don’t get touched unless I say you do.”

You whimpered, his cock absolutely fucking you stupid. Your head was laid against the leather seat, drool dripping onto the interior as you took everything Gator was giving you.

“Shit, I’m fuckin’ you dumb, aren’t I?” He laughed. “You sure are taking it like a good little cockslut. Is that all you’re good for, baby?” You whined in response, but that wasn’t good enough for Gator, who slapped your ass hard again, making you jump. “Use your words, slut.”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned. “‘s all I’m good for, just taking your cock.”

“Yeah?” He asked, speeding up his thrusts. Sweat dripped down his neck beneath his shirt and police vest. “Just mine?”

“Just yours,” you promised him. He wasn’t sure if you were being honest, but hearing it was enough for him.

“This pussy belongs to me,” he said. “Make sure you fuckin’ know it. I ever catch you with some other asshole, I ever catch you dressing like a slut again, this is what happens. I will cuff you and take you somewhere to fuck you stupid until you get it through your head that your pussy belongs to me.”

His words alone had you reaching your peak, and fast. Your pussy clenched around his dick, and he huffed a cocky laugh. “I can feel ya squeezin’ my dick, baby. Gonna cum just from letting daddy fuck you?”

You whined again, and when Gator reached around to start rubbing circles on your clit, your body nearly combusted on the spot. “Oh my god,” you moaned, whole body trembling.

“You got somethin’ to say?” He taunted right in your ear, his movements on your clit slowing. “Don’t be ungrateful.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you moaned. “Please, please let me cum.”

“You think you deserve that?” Gator laid his head on your back, his own breathing becoming strained. “You think you deserve to cum?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned, begged. You needed this.

Gator’s tongue darted out, licking the skin of your back with a moan. “Fuck, you’re so good, baby. I’ll let you cum around my cock. Go on, baby, let go f’me.”

He bit down on your skin and your eyes went wide as stars exploded before them, loud, uninhibited moans spilling from your lips as he pounded into you the last couple times before stilling, shooting ropes of his spend deep inside you as he groaned and said your name again and again. Neither of you could move at first, both trying to compose yourselves.

Finally Gator pulled out, tucking himself back away. He pulled your skirt back down for you, but you could feel his release dripping down your inner thighs. He pulled the key from his belt and unlocked the handcuffs, removing them.

“Do you want a ride home?” He asked sheepishly. “You can, uh, ride up front.”

You blushed, climbing out of the back. “Yeah, sure.”

When Gator pulled up outside your house, he turned the car off. He looked at you expectantly, which almost had you rolling your eyes and turning him down.

“Oh, come on. We both know you’re spending the night.”

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Hii, long time no see :3 can we get some of protective/ jealous/ possesive gator imagine? <3 i saw ur requests are open rn? <3

Here you go sweet girl! Thank you for your request. 😘 I hope you enjoy your filth!

One jealous/possessive/protective Gator coming up!

CW: No use of Y/N. Mean, mouthy Gator and a little pervy. Both are toxic. A smidge of degradation. Reader is called a bitch (not by Gator). Reader with a vagina. Semi-Public smut (we're in a restroom). Hair pulling. Spanking. Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 1.8K

You're so close to the edge that the steady stream of moans being dragged from your lips could no longer be contained, unable to form a coherent thought with the way his hips piston into yours.

Each slow drag of his thick cock against your velvety walls had you feeling every ridge and vein, driving you insane. He wasn’t gentle, plunging back in a little deeper each time.

His large hand tangles in your hair, pressing your face further against the mirror, as his other holds firm to your hip sure to leave finger shaped bruises in their wake.

“Ya’ think he could fuck ya’ like this?” He forces out in between hard, heavy thrusts, balls slapping your aching clit. “Think he could have ya’ cryin’ on his cock?”

“Probably got a fuckin’ needle dick.” He adds with a huff.

You mewl when he pulls your head back, fingers firmly locked into the roots of your hair, making your back arch, pushing your ass back against him.

“Can't talk now? I asked you a fuckin' question.” Tugging a little more harshly when you don't answer right away.

“Ahhhh! Gator! No!”

“No, what?” He grits out, cock still carving a path in and out of your soaked pussy.

“N—no one fucks me this good.” You moan out.

He gives you a momentary reprieve, letting your head fall back forward, untangling his fingers so he could hold both your hips steady as you cling onto the edge of the porcelain sink, hips starting to hurt with the way he had you pushed into the edge of the counter.

It was your fault really. You'd purposely flirted with the guy buying you drinks, knowing exactly the scenario you would find yourself in at this very moment.

Gator was furious when he had walked in, spotting you at the bar with some asshole who had the audacity to talk to you.

You weren't his. Not really. So, he shouldn't feel this level of rage. He wasn't your boyfriend, and in all honesty, you wouldn't even call each other friends but somehow you always ended up tangled together in some dingy broom closet or the front seat of his truck.

He was irritating and got under your skin like no one else could, but he was also the best lay you'd ever had, though you'd never tell him that to his face.

The guy you were talking to wasn't even that cute, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Oh, that is so funny!” You laughed, laying a hand to his forearm when the door swung open to reveal the young deputy coming in after a late night shift to blow off some steam.

His eyes trailed your legs, pants growing a little tighter with the way your dress hugged your curves.

“Fuckin' hell.” He muttered, walking to the bar with a shake of his head, ordering a beer a few stools down from your little display.

You saw him enter but pretended not to, leisurely sipping your drink and paying little attention to what Roger… no Reggie… was saying.

He was wearing that stupid green and white ball cap turned backwards, along with his usual khaki cargos and camo hoodie, sans his thigh holster.

A few more giggles, and lingering touches had Gator seething in his seat, slamming his empty beer down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up and heading your way.

Your back was still turned when you felt him brush up against you, Reggie still droning on about something, but your attention was already drawn elsewhere.

His head turned toward you and Reggie, face showing no emotion, as he leaned onto the sticky bar top.

“Ya’ think this is funny?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Reggie perked up, as you eased your stool around, finally meeting Gator’s stoic gaze.

“M’not talkin’ to you, dipshit. M’talkin’ to her.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke.

Reggie scoffed but before he had a chance to say anything else you spoke up.

“Its pretty amusing.” You smirk over at him. His jaw suddenly had that tick that only happens when you know he's about to lose it.

He tilts his head and leans in close enough you can smell his axe body spray that he no doubt doused himself with after he got off work.

“Hey, babe, you know this guy?” Reggie asked, standing from his stool, making Gator stiffen before taking on his full height and squaring his shoulders, glaring over your head at the other man.

Oh shit. You decide to diffuse the tension before it got out of hand like last time and ruining the whole mood, quickly turning back to Reggie.

“Hey, thanks for the drinks. But I don't think I'm really feeling a connection here.” You speak sweetly, as he looks down at you with a pinched brow as you continue.

“I had fun and all—”

“Fuckin' bitch.” He states, face morphing into one of resignation, taking a step back as Gator steps forward, pressing into your back.

“What'd you just call her?” He spits, but you stay firmly planted between them. Reggie looks between the both of you for a moment, before taking another step back, deciding it wouldn't be worth the headache.

“Hey asshole!” Gator raises his voice, pushing into you further, fists clenched at his sides before you turn around to stop him, gripping the front of his hoodie.

“Don't… S’not worth it. Besides…” You shrug. “Kind of deserved it. Used him for drinks while waiting on your sorry ass to show.”

He grins at that.

“Damn. You are cold hearted.” He huffs with a small laugh, leaning down to whisper in your ear, lips grazing your skin as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Ya’ wear that little slutty dress just f’me?” He asks, arrogance seeping back through, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips letting his eyes trail your figure.

“Seems like it has the desired effect.” You softly reply, palming at his bulge with a playful grin.

“Bathroom. Now.” His commanding tone leaves no room for protest. You hurriedly cross the bar with a dopey grin plastered across your face, Gator hot on your heels, smacking your ass for good measure.

He made quick work of locking the door and promptly pushing you against it, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss, pulling your dress up and shoving your panties down your thighs, leading you to where you are now with his thick cock nestled inside your tight cunt, knowing exactly who you belonged to.

Your panting breaths fan out and fog up the mirror, face still pressed up against it when he pulls back, plunging back in so hard it knocks the wind from your lungs and nearly makes your legs give out.

“Fuck! Gator!” You moan out, hoarse and ragged.

“Ya’ like that whore?” He punctuates with another deep thrust, his tip hitting that sweet, spongy spot that has your eyes rolling back, ripping a near pornographic moan from you.

“Oh, there it is.” He muses, licking his lips and angling his hips to make sure he hits it again, leaving you breathless.

He tangles his hand back into your messy locks, pulling your head back, the sting making your groan as the tendons in your throat strain.

“Eyes open, sweetheart.” He commands, meeting his gaze through the mirror, his usually slicked back hair now in disarray, hanging down against his forehead. His eyes lock onto yours, hungry and lust filled.

“That's it. Want t’make sure you remember whose cock is poundin’ this pretty little pussy.” He says, with a salacious grin as your walls flutter around him, making his rhythm falter for a moment when your walls clench around him.

“Goddamn.” He breathes out, eyes trailing down to your ass. He rears back with an open hand administering a sharp smack to your cheek, making you cry out, your hips try to jolt forward but you're firmly pinned in place.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” He demands, a whimper falling from your slack jaw.

“Tell me! Or I swear t’God I'll stop right now!” He repeats more forcefully, the grip on your hair growing tighter.

“Yours! It's yours Gator!” You finally relent, knowing full well he wouldn't let you cum unless you said it.

“Was that so hard?” He chuckles, releasing your hair, pulling you slightly away from the counter, sliding his hands down your stomach, past your mound, as deft, calloused fingers find your throbbing clit.

You find his wrist, holding him there, while he begins to draw tight circles against you, hurdling you toward release.

“That's it.” He says, drilling into you over and over. “Cum on my cock. Want t’feel how good I fuck ya’.

His filthy words and relentless pace have that insurmountable pressure building in your lower abdomen at a rapid pace. Hot white heat suddenly floods your core, licking up your spine as your cunt spasms around the entirety of his length, with a loud cry of his name. Your body slumps forward, as he stops his ministrations to hold your hips in place, chasing his own high as you continue to ride out yours.

Only a few more thrusts and he's following after you with a loud groan, painting your walls with his thick, heavy load.

“Fuck!” He hisses, holding you in place a few more seconds, hips stilling, cock twitching with the aftershock before pulling out slowly leaving your cunt a weeping mess, as a small whimper escapes you.

He steps back, stuffing himself back into his boxers and zips up his pants, allowing you to finally stand back up and look yourself over in the mirror.

You looked absolutely and thoroughly fucked with mascara running down your face, lipstick smeared across your cheek and hair sticking up in all directions.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered, taking a paper towel and wetting it.

“You're welcome.” He chuckled behind you, watching you begin the tedious task of trying to make yourself look presentable.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Already did that, sweetheart.” His reflection throwing you a wink, as he smoothed his hair back down.

You roll your eyes, mumbling a “whatever,” when you notice him bending over to pick up your panties from the floor, pocketing them.

“Hey! Perv!” Calling out and whirling around to face him.

His hand finds the doorknob, and with a shrug he smirks stating, “finders keepers,” before quickly slipping back out into the bar, leaving you there to gawk after him.

A few moments later you emerge, looking a little worse for wear, avoiding Reggie’s icy glare from the corner, making your way outside.

You would have been mortified to know, when he walked out, he proudly flipped Reggie the bird while holding up your panties, as if the entire bar hadn't heard you yet going at it like wild animals, firmly cementing his claim that you were off limits.

[muldermuse]

Thinking about two sinners today and wondering what would happen if Glenda called while gator was at readers house in the middle of them having sex

🙂🙂I’m completely normal about this🙂🙂i wrote this in like 20 minutes because I couldn’t think about anything else🙂🙂

(Also I know that’s Steve Harrington but I needed a pic of the chest- for myself ❤️)

18+ only!!!! Nsfw below the cut and mdni

part of the two sinners verse. read more here!

His body is slick with sweat, his chest hair curling with the beads clinging to his body and you can feel small drops hitting your back from his over exertion. You’re bent over your couch with your hands together at the bottom of your back. You both had time to spare today so you’d teased each other whilst undressing until you were both naked. Gator has one hand holding yours together and another pushing your face into the couch. He’s changed the speed and force of his thrusts into you to keep you teetering on the edge and every time you’ve begged him to keep doing it exactly as he has been, he’d slow it right down or remove himself completely- watching your legs kick out as he smacked your ass for being ‘ungrateful for his cock’.

It feels like he’s a predator toying with his prey and this is one of Gator’s favourite ways to fuck you after getting slightly too intimate with you. He wants you to submit to him and beg him for more. Whenever he feels like you have some semblance of control over him; he’s eager to set you right. You’re so close to cumming and he can feel it by how tight you’re getting. You’re not even speaking coherently anymore, just mouth agape moaning into the couch and trying to plead with him to let you come through earth shattering moans. He nearly cums when you look up at him, your face a flushed pink and your eyes filled with tears at how good he’s making you feel. You whimper a small please and he immediately pulls out of you. 

“S’not happenin’ yet, babydoll” he slaps your ass harder than he has all night. He scrapes his nails over the reddened skin, smiling at the marks he’s littering on your used body. You make a noise somewhere between a groan and a cry as your legs gently tremble. Then his phone buzzes- again. It’s Glenda.

He should have been home 2 hours ago but you’d begged him to come round for what should’ve been a quickie and he couldn’t say no. As soon as you started undressing him, he should’ve called Glenda to let her know he’d be a few hours but he tries not to think about her when he’s near you. She usually calls him once or twice when he’s late but this is the fifth time she’s called. 

He doesn’t even want to open the 45 text messages she’s sent him. 

He sits down on your armchair, completely ignoring you as you struggle to stand up again due to your shaking legs. You look, and feel, completely fucked out. Your throat is hoarse with moaning, you can feel the bruises starting to form on your tits from the bites Gator had left and you notice your ass feeling hot from the spanking you’d recieved. Whilst Gator is staring at his phone unsure of what to do, you straddle him and place hot, pleading kisses on his neck. 

“Gator, baby” your voice comes out rough and husky, “y’gotta lemme cum baby please, I’m so fucking close please”. His cock is still hard against your stomach and you can see how flushed the tip is with beads of precum slipping down his length. 

The phone rings again and you stare at each other. He raises his brows at you and tells you sternly to “be fuckin’ quiet”. 

“Hey honey, sorry I missed your calls. Just nipped outta town to get some stuff for ya”. He answers so nonchalantly and it honestly does impress you how good he is at lying. He chats to Glenda as if he wasn’t fucking you over your couch mere minutes ago. He’s text Glenda before when you’ve been together, you’d been on your knees sucking his dick when he replied to her that casserole would be great for dinner. It occurs to you that he might leave after the phone call and you’re that desperate to cum that you’ll probably cry yourself to sleep if he doesn’t make you finish. Or call round Jenson or Jax to finish the job, you know that would really upset Gator. 

“Yeah no- that sounds great…no… I’m not trying to end the call! Okay tell me, what happened at the bookstore today?” He looks bored until you lick softly at his neck and you can taste the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue. Gator grips your hair in his fist and pulls you off him; shaking his head at you as he releases your hair. No fucking way are you letting Saint Glenda ruin your chance for an orgasm so while she drones on about whatever boring thing happened today- you maintain eye contact with Gator as you spit on his cock. He grabs your ass as he continues the conversation with Glenda, you’re unsure if this is a warning or encouragement. 

You presume the latter. 

You slide the head of his cock through your slick folds and each bump over the clit makes you bite your lip to suppress your moans. Before Gator can end the phone call or try to pull you off him, you sink down onto his cock. Your mouth hangs open as his eyes roll back and the sight alone could make you cum. Your hips grind lazily, conscious not to make a sound that would alert Glenda to the fact that Gator is lying through his teeth about where he is. Your hands reach behind you and hold onto Gators knees so you can basically just use him to make yourself cum. 

It’s all getting too much, you can feel his cock hit your g spot with every rotation of your hips and the coarse hairs at his base are skimming your oversensitive clit. You’re getting hotter, the room is quiet with only your soft breaths and Glenda’s tinny voice down the phone. Gator’s big hand grabs your hip and his desperate eyes meet yours- he’s going to cum. You’re in control again now and if that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge; hearing Glenda talk with no idea how good her boyfriend is making you feel does it for you. You clamp your hands over your mouth as you cum hard on Gator’s cock. His eyes slam shut and his neck strains as he cums inside you. A shuddering breath slips out as your cunt pulses tight and wet around him.

“Gator honey, is everything okay? Y’sound a lil outta breath there”. You have to fight the urge to laugh as you ease yourself of Gator’s spent cock. He mumbles some answer whilst you try to climb off him but he grabs your arm before you can.

“I’ll probably be another hour or so hon, just leave my dinner on the counter- yeah? Worked real hard today so I have an appetite”. He hangs up without acknowledging Glenda’s ‘I love you’ down the phone. Instead, he pushes you onto the couch and eats his cum out of your pussy. All the while, his girlfriend is making sure his meal is perfect for him at home.

[elina-sakura]

Band Together Scene Rewrite

A little rewrite of that one Broppy scene from Band Together that honestly felt iffy to me and figure, why not rewrite it to show her actually being considerate? If you guys don’t mind the scene, that’s fine too.

JD heads further into the jungle, leading like he knows where they’re going. Probably experiences from his own travels through the wildlife. Something he and Branch would probably get along super swimmingly (literally and figuratively).

Speaking of Branch, he grabs a slime gator and practically threw it on the pool noodle-like vine. She approached him gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Super happy. This is our most fun mission yet. Yay~.” He pushes forward and slides away from her, not even getting up to enjoy the ride.

Poppy place her gator down and follows. She definitely should have expected that. This adventure is far more personal to Branch than any of the ones they’ve been on, and no doubt reopening old wounds he was probably starting to heal from. She’s already slapping herself mentally for not considering his feelings more before dragging them with John Dory. Some girlfriend she is.

When she catches up to Branch’s side, Poppy brushes her paw against his arm and gives him a soft smile. “Look, I get you and your brothers have...issues-”

“That’s an understatement.”

“-but this is your chance to reconnect with them now. JD even said he went back to Troll Tree to see you.” Her heart aches as he recalls the words he has said before. “Imagine how long he must have thought you were dead…”

“Then he should have looked harder before presuming I was dead for two decades.” Branch snapped, his face grimacing with more than just anger.

“Well you don’t know the full story of what happened or even how long he thought that, and you can’t get that if you keep closing yourself off from him.” Both of their slime gators stop at the end, and Poppy jumps off. She offers a hand to Branch. “Just try and give them a chance at least. Okay?”

Branch looks at her with a critical look, but for a brief moment, she thought she saw it soften. His tail even wags a bit. Her heart hopes her words ring true to him. But then it quickly disappears and he jumps down on his own, his tail lashing out.

Tiny Diamond comes up to the two, shaking his head. “Man, adult stuff.”

“You have no idea.”

[hotwritergf]

Ok… I would like a gator tillman smut like maybe he has been away for awhile because Roy asked him to take care of something and when he comes back all he wants it’s reader but he’s not only f*cking reader but makes love to reader… idk something like that

Far too long / Gator Tillman- Fargo / One Shot / Smut

CW- smut, the term daddy is used, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, p in v, porn with a slight plot, established relationship, x reader.

“Been a while huh princess? Daddy has to work, you know that right? Daddy works to keep those hands of yours soft and manicured, while mine are dirty and calloused. Y’like that though don’t you? My hands all rough, rubbing against this pretty little pussy. Look at her, she’s crying out for me. Your little princess brain is leaking out of her.” Gator teases, he rubs his middle finger through your slit. Separating your folds and zeroing over your clit. Your breath hitches as he begins to curl his fingers inside of you, his fingertips grazing your g-spot every time he pumps them into you.

“Please.. No more. No more teasing. Want you. Please.” You’re begging him, he’s been away for little over two months, some bullshit that Roy had sent him away to take care of. You weren’t interested in his work, you learnt a long time ago to ask no questions. Ignorance is bliss. But your body aches for him, your head full of nothing but Gator Gator Gator. Your clit practically throbbing his name in morse code. He knows just how to tease you, having dated you for so long he knew your weak spots, how to melt that mind of yours.

“See, any other time, Daddy would tell you to be patient. But fuck. Babe, I need to be inside you. Been away far too long. Never again. I’ll work from fucking home and dad can just fucking like it.” He spits his words out like venom on his tongue. You knew he was lying, as much as you loved him, he could never stand up to his father. That’s a problem for another day, you hum as he rubs his dick against your slit. Your pussy acting as all the lubricant you could ever need, leaving his length slick and wet. Ready for you.

With his first thrust inside you, you’re putty in his hands. Your breath hitches as his cock hits your g-spot, violating the area until all you can think about is how good it feels. Nobody has ever fucked you so good.

“My girl. My fuckin’ girl. Missed you so much. Not just this ass of yours either. Missed your love.” Gator groans as he gently slaps your ass, leaning forward to rub your clit. It’s almost too much, the praise and the feeling of his fingers kissing your hypersensitive clit.

“Daddy. Missed you too. Love you. Love how you make me feel, love you.” You manage to get those words out in-between moans, your eyes rolling into the back of your head with every movement he makes deeper inside you. You’re convinced you can feel him in your stomach.

“Love’ya too- Gonna fill you up so good baby.” His words tease you, all your thoughts muddle up into one, Gator. Gator and how he feels, fucking the moans out of your mouth. Gator and how he’s over-stimulating both your clit and your g-spot at once. Gator and how he’s still wearing that shit eating smirk on his face, knowing how much it gets to you. All you want in your life is Gator.

Your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach, the familiar feeling rising higher and higher. You clench around Gator’s cock. Almost trapping him into cumming inside you as you come undone yourself.

“Close.. so close. Please.” You whimper, your face buried in the pillows of your shared bed as you desperately dribble saliva from your mouth onto the sheets. He picks up the pace, not wanting to waste any more time. He just wants you. He wants to make you feel incredible. And that he does, when your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Gushing over his cock as your tormented clit becomes even more sensitive after cumming. He doesn’t stop fucking you, he pounds into your hole faster and harder than before. It’s all too much for your little body to handle and he knows that. You can’t hold it any longer, your pussy squirting over your boyfriend and the bed.

Soft groans come from behind you as Gator ruts. Wiping the sweat from his brow and pulling out of you, ropes of cum still dripping from cock and dribbling out of your abused cunt.

Gator wipes the mess from your body and his, ripping the soiled sheets off the bed as you both collapse on the mattress in each other’s embrace.

“Love you.” He whispers against your cheek before planting a gentle kiss through panted breaths. “Love you too.” Your eyes still tightly shut, as if opening them would make the moment just a dream. You squeeze his arm a little, needing something to grip onto as you crash back from ecstasy to reality. The pair of you lay there, breathing each other in, not wanting to move a muscle. Roy better not send him away for this long ever again.

[montydeservesamullet]

In defense of Montgomery Gator🐊

Yes im reposting this with new stuff because i can and because holy hell the gator deserves better.

Kindly asking you to stay civil if you decide to talk about this in the comments (i have seen some of y'all speaking about this and holy shit the name calling is just downright immature and rude)

So let's get into it:

Looking at the ruin scene it seems Bonnie was attacked at the bonnie bowl not in monty golf where he was last seen according to the missing report.

SECURITY REPORT - 12:24AM - Bonnie is seen leaving his green room in Rockstar Row heading East towards the atrium. 2:40AM - Bonnie enters the East Arcade. 4:12AM - Bonnie enters Monty Golf.

Unless of course someone moved the body from Monty golf to Bonnie bowl WHICH would definitely have been picked up by the cameras don’t you think.

And about the rug under Bonnie, it matches perfectly with the pattern of East Arcade too! not Gator Golf.

Not to mention the wall before Bonnie being messed up and the smashed bowling ball above his head, which again makes it seem like he was attacked there.

And about the green stuff around his chest, it doesn’t really look like paint? more like mould/dirt. (and monty doesn’t have green nails)

If Monty attacked Bonnie there literally wouldn’t be a mystery to it. It would definitely have happened where everyone and everything can see and there would be footage of it. The camera not capturing the said attack already says a lot that there is someone trying to hide the evidence for something which would not be needed if it was just between two animatronics.

It would definitely be mentioned in the game if the two animatronics had beef between them, or even with Freddy. There are reports everywhere in the pizzaplex, about pretty much everything even the most useless crap and you’re telling me that there isn’t any mention of the possible fighty fight between the two loved animatronics at all?.

If Monty wanted to be the main star of the show why would he go after Bonnie and not the main bear? Plus they’re robots. We don’t see the glamrocks attacking each other, expect when Roxy attacked Mimic (or generally the staff bots who are outside of the glamrock system.) I think Montys programming would prevent him from attacking the other glamrocks.

Also if Monty hated Bonnie he would have definitely destroyed everything and everyone in that said ride which would have reminded him of bonnie with his anger issues and all.

And about the ride, Freddy being the only one without the spotlight shining at him doesn’t honestly mean much. It’s just Fazbear entertainment pushing the narrative the same way they did in gator golf minigame, Freddy considers Monty as his friend which is such an important detail many seem to overlook. And yes the ride is obviously just the handiwork of Fazbear ent. to tell the story of why Bonnie left, but it does not, and i repeat, it does not prove that Monty done didly killed him.

Just to put in my two cents into the whole Monty hating Freddy thing, i personally don’t take it as canon because despite what we see in the minigame (Freddy literally being in a dumbster) Monty didn’t make the game. It was programmed by the fazbear ent. pushing more of the narrative of their rivalry or Monty possible being made to replace him (like just how quickly Vanessa for example was eager to put Monty as a front man when she noticed Freddy acting funky before slapping his shell on to a different endo)

But that being said i’m not against the theory either, it could definitely be true that Monty doesn’t like Freddy , and if we take the minigame as canon evidence, and again in the monty ride where freddy is the only one who doesn’t have a spotlight on him, i think we can safely assume that Montys feelings towards Bonnie are true as shown in the said ride. (even if Bonnie retiring thing was bull)

Why would Monty willingly use the same bass as Bonnie if he hated him. (He wouldn’t)

Monty gets his claws after Bonnie already was out of the band so he could play the bass, which he has NEVER used or reported to have hurt animatronics nor people, only using the said claws to do damage against gates for example. In all his jumpscares he bites the player, if Mr. Gator would previously have attacked people/Glamrock Bonnie with his claws don’t you think he’d use that method again if it has been proven effective.

MAINT LOG: MONTY - Montgomery's Claw upgrades allow him to play the bass. Following performances, he mostly uses them to cause damage. The fence repairs are getting costly.

His anger issues started only after he gets the said claws the staff literally has a report of it in the game. He has always been bit aggressive but not in like ”murder kill murder blood!!” way but in a generic stereotypical rockstar way, like smashing his bass and such. Keep in mind we only see Monty when he’s already in the hunt mode for Gregory and not how he actually is towards the kids.

Again throwing my two cents into the mix, anger issues are a major side effect of grief and he didn’t have the said issues UNTIL Bonnie died. It can be more than possible that Monty is in mourning too just as Freddy is.

Montys mystery mix has never been stated of being USED BY OR AFFECTED Monty himself just because it’s named after him doesn’t automatically mean he was slurping it down like a mad gator. It messed with chicas and only chicas programming because it’s pizza flavored, it’s green for the branding is my guess, not because it’s infected with a mysterious flavor that will make you go goo goo muck. (unless it has been stated then please do tell me with receipts. Saw someone mention the mystery mix for some reason so im including this here)

ERRANT BEHAVIOR REPORT - Chica's personality chip has always been a bit 'quirky', but the new Pizza Flavored Monty Mystery Mix Slushy Syrup has adverse effects on her programming. She has attacked patrons, employees and S.T.A.F.F. for it. It is recommended that Monty Mystery Mix should be recalled before we're inundated with lawsuits.

In the storyteller story when it ruins montys programming, it results on his violent rampages and eventually leads him be a shell of what he was, falling into depressive silences after the said rampages (this happens in the novel just wanted to point this out)

Monty frequently misses the main shows and prefers to stay above monty golf on the catwalks immediately debunking the ”wanting to be the best and stealing the spotlight” theory. He doesn’t like the limelight, the cameras are banned in gator golf hinting that he doesn’t like being photographed. Why would he kill someone for a spot he doesn’t even seem to enjoy? just food for thought

ERRANT BEHAVIOR REPORT - Monty didn't show up for the main stage performance again. We found him in the same place we always do, the catwalks over Monty Golf. We can't have a repeat of last month. Someone hit the hole in one and the hurricane bucket knocked him down. Both legs were broken and required emergency parts and service work.

NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY - Warning: No flash photography. Items will be confiscated and kept in Monty Golf security office.

As money hungry as the fazballs entertainment is, logically why would they ever keep an animatronic who is WAITING for a lawsuit to happen instead of fan favorite animatronic.

Unless the said fan favorite animatronic gave them a reason to get rid of him-

And just as a bonus i'm throwing in that the way Bonnie was destroyed (his limbs literally being torn from his body) which happens to be the exact same way the mimic kills his victims, is quite a coincidence. Which i KNOW very well that gets into a fist fight directly with the fact that mimic has supposedly been locked in the cellar for years and years.

At this point Monty is just doomed by the narrative and here i rest my case. (unless i find new evidence to support this)

[sadhours]

scumbag blues • dead end friends

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, violence, masturbation, roy, sex work

🤍🩶🤍🩶

Working the ranch after a gnarly night of drinking at for the faint of heart. Gator pukes about ten times while he’s out there, five of them when he’s shoveling shit. Roy looks as happy as a clam. The few times he sees Gator working, he laughs and claps him on the back, bellows out a bible verse Gator ignores. Works harder when he’s angry though. Takes his frustration out on the labor. Makes his body tired by the end of the day.

As he showers, his sick mind imagines strangling Daisy ‘til her face turns blue but it shifts. He’s still choking her but she’s smiling, that pretty cock drunk expression on her face while he mercilessly pounds into her pussy. Can fucking hear the squelch of it and Daisy’s pornographic moans. His dick fills out despite himself, he punches the tile of the shower wall ‘cause he’s so pissed at himself. Of course his anger towards her would facilitate itself as sick and twisted horniess. Imagines slapping her face and pulling her hair but in his mind she cries out in pleasure, begs for more and writhes in the sheets. Because she would, because he’s seen it a hundred times. Daisy loves it rough, loves being told she’s a worthless slut, that she’s addicted to his cock, she’d babble agreements. She’d cum all over his cock.

Gator wraps his fingers around his base, squeezes tight as he clenches his eyes shut. Flashes of Daisy in the many positions he’s put her in, folded up like a pretzel and he tries to remember the way her pussy feels, all wet and clenching around him. Gator spits down on his shaft and spreads it with his fist, tries to recreate how Daisy feels but it ain’t as good. He can picture her face all fucked out, drooling and crying about how good it feels. Pictures her tits, same ones he swore were fake the first time he seen ‘em, bouncing in time with his ruthless thrusts. What makes him cum is imagining her cumming on his cock, crying out in pleasure and calling him daddy. Spurts white, thick ropes on the tiles. Eyes clenched tight while he catches his breath.

What she’d said to him the night before floods his thoughts. Sends Gator spiraling. Has him planning on visiting the evidence room and then heading to a big empty field, artillery packed tight. Shooting at shit usually makes him feel better. Gator considers that maybe getting some other pussy might suffice. Daisy ain’t the only hooker in Stark County. But she is the prettiest. Probably the cleanest.

—

Daisy’s folding sheets when the bell chimes. She’s wearing a delicate floral dress, white with navy flowers and her hairs tied up in a haphazard bun, allowing the air from the fan to reach her sweaty neck. Housework days are the worst. She wanders out of the back room to the front desk, not surprised to see Roy standing in the lobby. Hands in his pocket and a smile that says he’s privy to what she said to Gator the night before. But she knows Gator didn’t tell him, she’s a little worried. Hopes Gator is okay, but Roy wouldn’t be smiling like that if Gator hurt himself.

“What happened to your door?” Roy asks, looking smug as can be.

“Your son happened,” Daisy raises an eyebrow, “I gotta replace that. Lord knows how much that’ll cost.”

Roy pulls out a stack of cash, lays it out on the desk and smiles, “That ought to cover it.”

“Sheriff— I, it feels wrong,” Daisy sighs, looking down at the money. “I really shouldn’t accept it.”

“It’s a gift,” Roy says, “Be rude of you not to.”

Daisy picks up the bills and tucks them into the lockbox, sighing. She opens her mouth to speak but Roy interrupts her, “A token of my appreciation. Whatever the hell you said to him sure as day worked.”

“I banned him,” Daisy says, “Told him he couldn’t have my pussy even he offered a million bucks.”

She isn’t sure why she’s bragging, but she wants to impress Roy, wants him to really know she did a good job. Because it was hard saying that to Gator, even if his cruelness inspired it.

“Well, I ain’t seen him clean the stables that good since he was a kid, so it worked,” he taps his fingers against the desk.

Daisy blurts it out before she can help herself, “I care for Gator. I don’t like hurting him. Hell, Sheriff, I’d quit this shit in a heartbeat if he wanted me to.”

Roy’s face hardens, anger clouds his eyes as he looks at her, “My boy’s not gonna marry an impure woman. Now, if he’d been only sucker to defile you, that’d be a different story. But that ain’t the one we’re in, and I know that if I pay the right price, I could get an hour with you in one of them rooms. And the lord don’t take too kindly on that, so I won’t, but the sin runs deep in your veins, girl. And, God almighty would smite me if I allowed that into my family. So, Daisy, cut your losses. Don’t you go fantasizing about that possibility, ‘cause it won’t ever be one. Gator’s my only son, and he’s barely useful at that. You tainted him enough, but you will never taint him more than you have. And I’ll make sure of that.”

Daisy’s throat tightens as tears fill her eyes, she fantasizes about the possibility of Gator on his knees for her in a god honoring way more than she’d like to admit. If she thinks about it too much, she’ll come to the realization she’s in love with the fucker and Roy’s just spelled it out loud and clear that he won’t allow it. So she can’t daydream too much. Knows it’s a god damn pipe dream anyways. Gator don’t love her, never will because she knows this is the ideals he grew up with. Looks at her as damaged goods never worthy of a ring. And it’s the smack in the face she needed.

“I understand,” she swallows the lump in her throat, “Thanks for stopping by, Sheriff. It’s been a real pleasure.”

“A real one, I’m sure,” he rips his hat at her because he saunters out. Leaves Daisy stunned, tears in her eyes as she tries to forget about all the real pleasures she’s had with Gator. Sure she’s had them because she’s in love with him.

—

“Daisy,” Daphne smiles, red hair blown from the wind as she steps into the lobby. Her skin is kissed with sun, her cheeks filled with cheer as she skips into the space between them. Wraps her arms around Daisy’s waist and pulls her tight against her, squeaking out an “I’m in love!”

Daisy smiles, hugging Daphne back just as tight. Thinks to herself that she’s also in love, but she’s gotta move past it. Hates that in the two weeks since Roy’s last visit, all she can think about is her feelings for Gator. Hitting her like a damned semi truck. Making work difficult when she’s closing her eyes, picturing the deputy beneath her just for the men to ask her to look at them. Hates that her mothers distant voice is in her head, telling her to keep it together. She ain’t raised her to fall for a client so easily.

“Daphne, you been gone three years, I sure as shit hope you fell in love,” Daisy mumbles as she squeezes her best friend. “Tell me about the lucky fella.”

“Sean,” Daphne gushes, hands wrapping around Daisy’s elbows as she pulls away. “We met on the mission. He’s an actor.”

“An actor?” Daisy smirks, “Shit, we got so much in common already!”

Daphne rolls her eyes but her smiles genuine, dreamy even. “We’re engaged.”

“You Christian’s move so quick,” Daisy teases, guiding Daphne to the couches in the lobby. “Is he sexy?”

Daphne squeals, hands rushing to her face as she stomps her feet in excitement, “The sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“He ask your daddy?”

“The night we got in, at dinner,” Daphne extends her hand to show Daisy the rock.

“Oh, fuck, he’s loaded, ain’t he?” Daisy’s eyes bulge as she inspects the ring.

“That don’t matter,” she waves her hand but her eyes tell Daisy everything she needs to know. “I lost it to him.”

“You harlot!” Daisy scolds sarcastically, “How was it? Worth the sin?”

“So worth it, first two weeks we couldn’t stop, I was so dehydrated,” Daphne admits, squeezing Daisy’s knee.

“Ain’t so bad, huh? I always said, you gotta try it to see if it’s worth spending the rest of your life with,” Daisy grins, though her mind slips to Gator. Can’t imagine better sex. Can’t imagine a better man to wake up next to and her makes her heart hurt. Daphne’s quick to catch it.

“Gator?”

Daisy sighs, “Sheriff’s paying me not to see him. I haven’t had an orgasm in so long.”

Daphne frowns then, “You like Gator so much, why let Roy in the way?”

“I don’t like Gator,” Daisy says sternly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Daisy,” Daphne scowls, “You and I both know that ain’t true. You had a crush on him since you were thirteen, and then, what, you’ve spent the last five years gushing about him. You can’t lie to me, babe.”

“I love him,” she admits, the first time out loud. Sounds ashamed when she says it ‘cause she is. “But the sheriff really don’t want us together. And I ain’t about to wind up in jail just ‘cause I love that man. It ain’t worth it. Imagine what my daddy would do without me— god forbid, he knew what I was doing here.”

“I’m just saying,” Daphne starts, “maybe this life is worth leaving behind if Gator means so much to ya.”

“Gator wouldn’t marry me anyways,” Daisy admits, “His daddy wouldn’t let him and really, last time I saw him I banned him from the Inn. Motherfucker punched the damn glass on the door. Trashed my client's car.”

“Would he do that if he didn’t want you so bad?” Daphne challenges, “Gator’s just as sick with love as you, darling, he’s just gonna be too stubborn to admit it first.”

“I miss him,” Daisy confesses, “Not even the sex part, I just miss being around him. He made me feel something, ya know?”

“I do know,” Daphne smiles, squeezing Daisy’s knee, “I’m not running from my something. You shouldn’t either.”

Daphne’s right but Roy’s scarier than the truth.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

May I request angst headcanons for all six blorbos? Please I am sick and in desperate need for sadness to feel better lol (it’s ok if you can’t tho!)

YESSSSS I GET TO ANGST THEMMMMMM :)

New York, Louisiana, Texas, Gov, Massachusetts, and New Jersey? I apologize in advance. (I do not feel bad at all lmao)

New York:

He will 100% cry or at least struggle not to cry if someone makes fun of the fact he can’t walk right.

Hella insecure about the fact that it’s really difficult for him to be able to gain weight. It doesn’t help that he was bullied about it when he went to school.

NY actually did very well in school and was a bright smart student, but his classmates and teachers were absolute ASSHOLES to him.

Him and sleep are the type of enemies that if one was on fire and the other had a glass of water, the one with the water would drink it. So- NY is tired ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. But if he tries to sleep, he can’t. And if he does manage to fall asleep, he just wakes up an hour later whether it just be out of nowhere or he has a nightmare.

Louisiana:

When France killed Loui’s mother, Loui’s mom actually put a curse on France that would give him terrible and vivid nightmares, ones that were so vivid that the victim could feel the phantom pain even after they woke up. But ofc since Louisiana has a heart where he should have a brain, he felt bad and took the curse off of France and put it on himself. Which is one of the reasons that he can’t sleep now. And most of his nightmares are about France’s abuse and war so. Yeah. He feels it all.

So like- Loui is a very kind, very gentle, and very big-hearted person. And he wants nothing but the best for most people. Unfortunately, this has led to him being used and hurt and manipulated more times than anybody is comfortable with hearing. And it’s usually the people he loves most that end of hurting him.

He finds it hard to believe that everybody actually loves him and cares about him. He just- can’t believe it. Yeah, he’ll say he believes it, but he doesn’t. Not fully at least.

For my cryptid/animal stuff, I picture Loui to be some blend of either a wolf and gator, or a wolf and Pelican. But he has the wolf ears and tail. They’re usually out, but they’re just hidden under his hat and in his shirt. Why does he keep them hidden? Well- his ears and tails are VERY sensitive to pain. And France use to take advantage of that by stepping on his tail and yanking on his ears and yelling constantly cuz he knew that it hurt Louisiana. I’m gonna skin France alive.

Texas:

When he gets way too damn tired to even want to exist, he’ll just completely give up. He’ll just lay there and cry. He won’t even try to fight someone coming to front, he’ll just let it happen. Someone needs to sit this poor boy down and help him talk about his issues please I’m begging-(no let him suffer <3)

The only time he ever opens up is if he’s drunk or if Austin is fronting. And when he comes back to front, he’ll completely ignore everyone and isolate himself.

I’m very very nice to him and I’ve given him: asthma, an iron deficiency, and hemophilia (so he bleeds REALLY easily). He absolutely REFUSES to take his medications and stuff and use his inhaler when he needs it. And all he does is work outside and lift and do stuff all day. Which he gets really dizzy and winded and hurt from. So cue someone finding him completely dazed and out of it leaning against a wall just so he can keep standing and he’s just trying to control his breathing and all of that.

He absolutely loves giving and receiving hugs and physical affection, but if ANY touch restrains and/or restricts his movement and ability to escape, someone is getting kicked, punched, bitten, slapped, or all the above.

Gov:

Oh Gov. Poor, poor, not-so-innocent Gov….. he needs a nap. Desperately. And a hug. Please. He needs it. So, so bad.

He has PA’s alcohol addiction, but instead it’s caffeine cuz he’s seen what alcohol does to people and fears becoming like PA.

He has TERRIBLE dissociation episodes that usually end with him just passing tf out.

Gov felt as though the Civil War was mostly his fault and pinned the blame on himself for some reason. He felt as though he had done something wrong that made half of his country wanted to leave.

Massachusetts:

Blames himself for almost everything that happened to his siblings. Even though literally NONE of it was his fault.

His biggest fears are failure, and hurting those he loves. He can’t stand the thought of it AT ALL. He can’t.

Often fears that he’s not “masculine enough” since England always told him that ever since he transitioned.

He tries not to use his magic as much after the Salem Witch Trials happened. Cuz he got beat and burned at the stake at least once or twice and would rather not relive that pain.

New Jersey:

Okay- tbh, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and he’s kinda insecure about that cuz he was never as smart and creative as his brothers.

Will literally hold in his tics until he’s alone, and usually by that time, he’s incredibly uncomfortable and maybe even in a bit of pain.

For the cryptid/animal stuff: one of his horns is cracked and a little shorter than the other because England broke one of them. Asshole.

His biggest fears are: the death of his loved ones and hurting his loved ones (oh look he has something in common with Ma-*gets choked*)

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 8 is live on AO3!

“I’m telling you, I saw its eyes turn red before it charged at me!” Mateo cries.

“Probie,” Paul rolls his eyes. “It’s a pig. Not some sort of hell spawn from one of your superhero movies. Its eyes can’t turn red.”

“Not a pig,” Judd grunts from behind his magazine.

Mateo gives them all a superior look. “I know what I saw.”

“What I saw was you running faster than I’ve ever seen anybody run in their whole life. I don’t think your feet were even touching the ground,” Judd says, making them all laugh.

The javelina call is definitely going down as one for the books. T.K. and Paul had rescued the students from the closet while Marjan, Judd, and Mateo had put out a small fire the javelinas had started in the dorm kitchen. How they managed it with nothing but hooves and tusks is a mystery, but it was licking at the ceiling by the time they got to it. Apparently somewhere along the way Mateo had had a run in with one of the animals and every time he tells the story it gets dramatically more intense.

“At least it wasn’t a gator,” Marjan says, setting her book on her lap. 

“You think a gator is worse than a demon pig?” T.K. asks, feigning disinterest by playing Candy Crush on his phone, but secretly eager to rile his teammates up as much as possible.

“Not a pig!” Judd says again, his tone full of long suffering.

“Um yeah,” Marjan says. “Gators can weigh up to a thousand pounds, they’re incredibly fast, and they have between seventy-five and eight teeth. And if a gator gets you, it’s not letting go. Pigs are just…pigs.”

“With tusks as long as my arm!” Mateo protests.

“Okay do not make me say this again!” Judd says. “Javelinas ain’t pigs! They’re an entirely separate family of animals!”

“Why are you guys yelling about pigs?” Tim asks as he and Nancy walk into the room.

“Yo, you’re not going to believe this call we went on!” Mateo says, taking a deep breath to start telling his harrowing tale for the tenth time.

“Give it a rest Mateo,” Paul tells him, and he deflates, sending her a glare.

“Where’d you all get to?” Judd asks as Tim and Nancy sit down on the sofa.

“Mugging gone wrong downtown,” Nancy says. “Victim probably would have died if not for an off duty cop who took the mugger down. Guy had a knife though, it was messy.”

T.K. is only half listening as he works his way through a particularly difficult level of candy themed fun. But the mention of a cop perks his ears up a little bit.

“You guys were gone awhile,” Paul says, checking his watch.

“The cop was bleeding pretty badly. It took us a long time to get it stopped,” Tim says.

“Anybody we know?” Marjan asks.

Nancy shakes her head. “Some guy named Reyes? I’ve never met him before.”

The world tilts. Air rushes out of his lungs. “What did you say?” T.K. asks, every eye in the room turning to him at his sudden question.

“Cop named Reyes got stabbed during a mugging,” Tim says, then he turns to look at Mateo. “I’d actually like to hear the pig story.”

Judd slaps his paper down onto his lap. “Javelinas!!”

The room devolves into good natured squabbling, but T.K. isn’t listening anymore.

Reyes could be anybody.

But somehow he knows it’s not.

He gets up abruptly and takes himself through the first door that offers privacy, which happens to be the shower room. He sinks down onto the bench that runs through the middle of the space and uses shaky fingers to find Carlos’ most recent text.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[9:26pm] I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to.

T.K.

[9:27pm] My hero.

T.K.

[10:52pm] This is going to sound crazy, but are you okay? 

He waits and waits, the minutes agonizingly long. There’s no response. Not even a read receipt. But it’s late. Maybe Carlos is sleeping. Or with his family. There are a thousand reasons he might not be responding to T.K.’s text.

And yet he can’t shake the feeling of dread that poured over him the second Nancy said Carlos’ last name. 

The locker room door opens and Paul wanders in. “There you are,” he says. “Can you believe Mateo is still going on about those javelina things? It’s like he’s never seen a wild animal before. He’s lived in Texas his whole life but I’m more of a country boy than he is.”

“Mm,” T.K. says, still staring at his phone, willing Carlos to text back. 

“You okay?” Paul asks as he reaches for his shaving kit. “You look worried.”

T.K. sets his phone down and tries to get his heart to stop beating so fast. “The officer that Tim and Nancy just worked on? Reyes is Carlos’ last name.”

“Carlos like, six-pack abs, police officer that you’re obsessed with, Carlos?” Paul asks.

“Yeah. We were supposed to go out yesterday, but he had a work thing come up. And now he’s not responding to my text.”

“Well it is late,” Paul says. 

“Yeah.” T.K. stares morosely at his darkened screen. 

“You haven’t even been on a date yet, right?” Paul asks.

“Not for lack of trying,” T.K. says with a sigh. 

“You’re pretty worried about someone you’ve met in real life for all of ten minutes,” Paul says. “I’m not judging,” he adds quickly when T.K. scowls. “Just trying to figure out where your head’s at.”

T.K. shrugs. “I…really like him. He’s nice. He never makes me feel like I’m bothering him.” He looks up. “You know he sent me and my dad coffee after my dad’s accident? Who does that? Sends coffee to a guy he only knows through a phone screen?”

“A guy whose mama raised him right,” Paul says. “And who clearly likes you a lot.”

“But how is that possible?” T.K. asks, feeling slightly desperate. “It’s just texting. And like, two phone calls. It’s weird that I feel like I know him from that, right?”

“It’s not weird. It’s romantic,” Paul says. “You know, people used to send love letters back and forth all the time. Entire relationships were written out on pieces of paper. They didn’t hear each other’s voices or see pictures, they just wrote down everything they felt and hoped it made it through the mail. This is the twenty-first century version of that.”

T.K. hadn’t thought about it that way. “Well, that makes it seem nicer,” he says, his voice slightly grumbly over the fact that Paul is making sense instead of joining him in the anxiety spiral.

He checks his phone again. Still nothing.

“If you’re that worried, ask Tim or Nancy if they got the guys’ first name,” Paul says. “I really think you’re stressing for nothing though. This is Texas. There have to be at least a few other guys in the APD with that last name.”

“Yeah, maybe,” T.K. says.

But he only knows one who would go after a mugger while off duty.

The rest of the team wanders in to get ready for bed, but T.K. heads back out to toward the rigs. Tim and Nancy are restocking their inventory. “I just think if they’re going to call it America’s Got Talent they should have some talented people on,” Tim is saying.

“You wouldn’t know talent if it bit you on the ass,” Nancy scoffs. “Did you see that choir from South Africa? They were amazing.”

“Isn’t it all fake though? Aren’t they lip syncing?” 

Nancy makes an outraged noise and T.K. decides to cut in before things get even more heated. “Hey guys,” he says.

“Oh, hey T.K.,” Tim replies. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt I—“ He hesitates, uncharacteristically nervous. He realizes how stupid this is going to sound. And Tim and Nancy are part of the firehouse, but he doesn’t know them super well. Paramedic schedules are different than fire and it means their team feels a little separated from the rest of the group. 

“Everything okay?” Nancy asks. It’s clear from her face she thinks he might be sick or hurt in some way.

He’s already here, he might as well go for it. “The cop you worked on during your last call. You said his name was Reyes?”

Tim nods. “Yeah that’s what he said.”

“Did you happen to get his first name?”

“Um, yeah, I think we put it in our notes.” Nancy reaches for a clipboard and runs her finger down the page. 

T.K.’s heart is so loud he can hear it in his ears, feel it throbbing in every part of his body. This is so dumb. The chances are so small, and even if it is Carlos they barely know each other. There’s no reason for him to be panicking like thi—

“Carlos,” Nancy says. 

His heart plummets into his shoes and he swallows hard. It’s his Carlos. Of course it is. 

“T.K.?” Tim’s voice sounds a little distant and a lot concerned. He takes a step toward him. “Are you all right?”

“I—“ He doesn’t know what he is. ‘All right’ is definitely not it though. 

“Dude you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Nancy says. “Do you want to sit down?”

He sucks in a breath, clenching his fists until his nails bite into his palms, using the pain to ground himself. “Was he—how bad was it?”

“I mean, there was a lot of blood,” Nancy says, looking at him curiously, like she’s trying to figure out what exactly is happening here. “The mugger got him pretty good. But he was stable when we dropped him off.”

Stable. Stable is good. But stable doesn’t always stay that way. Especially not when you’ve been stabbed. “Okay, thanks,” he says. His voice sounds wooden even in his own ears. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asks.

“I’ll be fine,” T.K. tells them, then he turns and walks away without another word. He pulls out his phone. There’s still no reply so he texts again.

T.K.

[11:07pm] Please let me know that you’re okay when you can.

There have to be other Carlos Reyeses around. T.K. repeats this to himself over and over as he brushes his teeth, then continues the mantra as he lays on his bunk in the dark. It doesn’t help. He doesn’t sleep. They don’t even get a call to help him take his mind off of it. It’s the quietest night they’ve had in months, something he’d usually be grateful for, but tonight his brain won’t quit. The hours tick by without a response and the longer it goes on the more certain T.K. becomes that Carlos is in trouble. 

By the time their shift ends in the morning he feels a little manic. Reckless. More like New York T.K. than Austin T.K.. There’s an itching under his skin, a buzz, the desperate need to do something. 

“Yo, you wanna grab breakfast?” Mateo asks, slinging his backpack over his should as they head for the parking lot. “This new place has bomb chorizo breakfast burritos. Life changing bro.”

“I can’t,” T.K. says quickly. He’s not sure why he says it. His schedule is clear. The only thing waiting for him at home is his dad who has probably repainted the master bedroom and built a new doghouse for Buttercup by now. His therapist would likely tell him it’s better to be around people when he feels like this than to go stew by himself. He should say yes. But he can’t.

“Cool, catch you next time!” Mateo gives him a little wave while T.K. throws his bag into the back of his dad’s car.

He’s driving before he’s fully formulated a plan and that’s probably why he ends up in Carlos’ neighborhood. He’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, the first time they’d tried to go on a date, in relation to a couple good coffee shops. 

T.K. is aware in the back of his mind that this is stalker behavior. But he’s not planning to do anything. He’s just driving. He doesn’t know Carlos’ house number anyway.

At least, not until he passes a condo with a blue Camaro in the driveway. That has to be his, right? How many people with flawlessly washed and polished blue Camaros can there possibly be on this street?

He puts his car in park, chewing on the inside of his lip as he considers his options. This is a bad idea, but T.K. has never met a bad idea he didn’t at least seriously consider. And he can already tell that today he’s going to let his impulsivity win.

It’s better than drugs, right?

He’s always been an expert at ignoring the voice of reason, so it’s easy to tune it out as he walks across the street and rings the doorbell of a random house on a random street to possibly see a random man he’s barely even met. 

The person who answers the door is not Carlos. “Hi?” the woman says, her dark eyes looking him up and down curiously. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Carlos Reyes?” T.K. says. “Is this—does he live here?”

“Yeah, he does,” she says, those eyes narrowing, clearly trying to figure out what’s going on. “Who are you?”

“I’m T.K.,” he says.

Her eyes go wide and she immediately slams the door shut in his face. He blinks in surprise as she starts speaking in loud, obviously dramatic Spanish on the other side. He’s just about to slowly back away and pretend like this never happened, when the door is wrenched open again and a different woman with the same dark eyes stares out at him. 

“You’re T.K.?” she asks.

“Yes?” What the hell is going on? Carlos never mentioned living with roommates or…T.K.’s stomach lurches. Oh god. What if one of these women is his girlfriend?

What if they’re both his girlfriends?

“Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Luisa. Carlos’ sister.”

His knees nearly give out in relief. Of course Carlos doesn’t have secret girlfriends. He’s gay. “Oh, hi,” T.K. says, trying to recover from his momentary panic and the absolutely insane line of thinking it caused.

“Luisa! Invite him and close that door! You’re letting all the air conditioning out!” a third voice calls from inside.

She gives him a wry look. “Come in.”

He steps through the doorway and his eyes fall on a small, dark living room with a kitchen extending behind it. The first woman (that she’s also Carlos’ sister is so obvious now) is standing next to the couch, and the woman who belongs to the third voice is in the kitchen, a large pile of vegetables on the island counter in front of her.

“T.K. this is my sister Ana,” Luisa says. “She’s going to apologize for slamming the door in your face.”

“Yes, sorry about that,” Ana says, offering no explanation as to why it happened and studying him in a way that makes him feel like he’s being inspected by a military officer.

“And that’s our mom, Andrea,” Luisa nods toward the kitchen.

“Hola!” she calls back, waving a very large chef’s knife at him before returning to chopping. “You’re Carlos’ friend?”

“Um, yes,” T.K. says, unsure of how much Carlos’ family knows about his dating life and unwilling to reveal anything further to them.

Ana’s eyes gleam and she says something in Spanish that has Luisa sending her a cutting glare and sharp response, also in Spanish. Andrea’s eyebrows rise but she keeps chopping away.

When Luisa looks back at him her eyes soften again. “It was really nice of you to come by. I’m so sorry, but Carlos is sleeping right now and after last night he needs his rest.”

“You can stay though,” Ana says. “We’d love to get to know one of Carlos’ friends.”

“Yes, T.K. would you like something to drink?” Andrea is already setting down the knife and turning for the refrigerator. “There’s iced tea, I can make you coffee, or it looks like Carlitos has some sparkling waters in here.”

There’s such an air of family in the room that it’s a little overwhelming. He feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. “No, thank you,” he says. “Is Carlos okay? I’ve been trying to get ahold of him since last night and he hasn’t been responding.”

The mood in the room changes immediately. “You don’t know?” Ana asks. “I thought that’s why you came over here?”

Now he feels completely lost and more confused than every. “I—“

“No, he doesn’t know.”

A voice, scratchy with sleep floats down the stairs and seconds later Carlos appears. He’s moving slowly, one hand gripping the banister for support. His brow is furrowed in pain and he looks a couple shades paler than T.K. remembers. There’s a dark, purpling bruise along his jaw, shadows under his eyes, and his hair is mussed like he’s been sleeping.

Color spirals out into the room as T.K.’s eyes drink him in, his heart lifting in relief even though it’s clear that Carlos isn’t one hundred percent well.

“Hi,” T.K. says.

Carlos’ eyes, the ones he shares with his mother and sisters, lock onto T.K.’s and the pained furrow in his brow smooths out. “Hi,” he says quietly.

“Ay, Carlitos!” Andrea moves toward him, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs and gently taking his arm. “You go back up to bed this minute!”

“I’ve been in bed all morning,” Carlos tells her. “I’m fine.”

“You almost bled out last night. Get back upstairs,” Ana says in agreement with her mother.

He rolls his eyes. “I did not almost bleed out.”

Andrea clucks her tongue. “Thirty-seven stitches is close enough,” she says. “Bed.”

“A couch and a bed are basically the same thing,” Carlos argues.

“Ha!” Ana scoffs. “This leather monstrosity is barely even a couch. It’s so uncomfortable it’s a wonder you don’t have back problems from sitting on it.”

They continue to argue and T.K. once again feels like he should slip out the door. He doesn’t belong here. This is family business.

He clears his throat. “I should probably go—“

“No!” Carlos lurches toward him and then lets out an involuntary swear of pain that has all three women lunging in his direction. 

He ends up ushered onto the couch where Andrea begins shoving pillows everywhere she can fit them, cushioning his head, his back, and his legs. Meanwhile Luisa sprints into the kitchen for a glass of water and a prescription bottle, and Ana grabs her phone claiming she’s going to call Carlos’ doctor immediately.

“Oh my god, get off of me!” Carlos grouses, using a tone that only a boy who is being pestered by his female family members can summon. T.K. has used it on his mom a time or two, so he’s familiar. “I just moved too fast!”

“Did you tear your stitches?” Andrea asks, reaching for the zipper on his hoodie as if she’s going to check.

“No!” he says, pushing her hand away. “Honestly the three of you are acting like I’m a child!”

“You called us in the middle of the night from the hospital,” Ana tells him. “This is what you get.”

“Okay,” Luisa says, obviously the peace keeper of the group. “I think we should give Carlos a little space. Maybe he and T.K. would like to visit for a bit? Why don’t we go upstairs and change Carlos’ sheets?”

“It takes three of us to change the sheets?” Ana asks.

“Ana callate.” Luisa grips her arm and pulls her toward the stairs.

“Ow!” Ana says sharply

“I’m barely touching you!”

“Your fingers are like bird talons!”

Andrea heads back into the kitchen and fills a second glass with water, setting it down by T.K. with a smile and then pressing a kiss to Carlos’ forehead. “Call if you need anything,” she tells him.

“Thanks Mom,” Carlos says as she heads for the stairs.

He sighs and then his eyes meet T.K.’s and the annoyance melts off of him. “Hi,” he says again, a little sheepish this time.

“Hi,” T.K. echoes.

“Ana thinks you’re too hot for me,” Carlos tells him, a wry smile twisting on his face. 

“Is that what she said when she slammed the door in my face?”

“Yes. You’re too hot for me and I’m stupid for not doing something about it faster.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry about them.”

“No, I’m sorry,” T.K. replies. “I didn’t meant to interrupt anything I just…our paramedics came back from a run last night and said they’d had a patient named Carlos Reyes. I texted you, but you didn’t answer.”

Carlos sighs. “Yeah my phone got smashed during the altercation,” he says. “And honestly, I wasn’t in great shape to text anyway.” He looks at T.K. curiously. “How did you find my condo?”

Embarrassment colors his cheeks. “You’d mentioned the neighborhood at one point so I…drove around until I saw your car in the driveway.”

Carlos’ face breaks out into an incredulous smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Creeper status,” he says. “I was worried. What happened?”

Carlos fills him in, delivering the story in a way that indicates he’s spent many years writing detailed incident reports. T.K. winces a couple times, his own mind triaging the injuries Carlos lists and mentally field treating them with his dual EMT certification. 

“They stitched me up at the hospital,” Carlos finishes. “I called my mom and she called my sisters. I didn’t expect all three of them to descend on me like this, but here they are. I think my dad would be here too except he’s taking it upon himself to breathe down APD’s neck and get this guy interrogated and brought up on charges.”

“Fun,” T.K. says. “I didn’t know your dad was APD.”

“Texas Ranger actually,” Carlos says. “I went into the family business. Sort of.” He shifts a little and then freezes, pain all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” T.K. asks, immediately sitting forward in his chair, his work mode activated.

Carlos lets out a shaky breath. “I told my mom I didn’t tear my stitches but…it kind of feels like I might have,” he says.

“I’m a dual certified EMT,” T.K. says, concern blasting through his veins. “I can take a look if you want.”

“Oh, no you don’t have to…” Carlos looks awkward now in addition to the pain still creasing the lines of his face.

He did not come all the way over here just to watch this man bleed out on his own couch. “I don’t mind,” T.K. says. “It could save you a trip to the ER.” He glances toward the stairs. “And the wrath of your mom and sisters.”

Carlos considers this for a second and then nods, clumsily unzipping the hoodie he’s wearing, pulling it to the side to reveal a large white bandage covering the left side of his ribcage. “It’s just the ones on my chest. The ones in my arm feel okay.”

“I’m going to be honest,” T.K. says as he sits down on the end of the couch so he can get a better look, “this is not how I thought seeing your abs in person for the first time was going to go.”

Carlos lets out a sharp laugh and then groans. “Oh god, don’t make me laugh,” he says, still smiling despite the pain in his eyes. “Also, fair warning, even though they’re upstairs, my mom and sisters are definitely listening to every word we say. So speak carefully.”

T.K. grins. “So I shouldn’t anything about how I think you’re incredibly sexy?”

Carlos blushes. “Probably not.”

T.K. winks. “Got it. I’ll keep that to myself then.”

He sits forward, using gentle fingers to examine Carlos’ bandage. “I don’t see any sign of significant bleeding. Do you want me to take it off and double check?”

Carlos hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

T.K. shakes his head. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“In the powder room, under the sink.”

T.K. retrieves it and pulls on a pair of gloves before removing the bandage. He grimaces at the neat row of black stitches that follow a jagged line of torn flesh along Carlos’ ribcage and down his abdomen. “I am going to personally strangle the person that messed with these abs,” he mutters in annoyance.

Carlos snorts. “That’s the second time you’ve threatened to murder someone in like three weeks. I feel like I have a duty to report you.”

“Sorry officer,” T.K. says with a smile. “This looks good. Nothing seems loose and there’s some bleeding, but nothing excessive, which is normal. You probably just pulled them a little bit.”

Carlos winces. “So gross.”

“You get used to it.”

T.K. tapes on a new bandage then disposes of the old one and the gloves while Carlos zips himself back up.

“I don’t know if you’re into herbs and supplements,” T.K. says when he returns. “But my dad had me on a pretty strict regimen after I got shot and they definitely didn’t hurt.”

“That would be great,” Carlos says. 

“I can—oh. Well I was going to say I’ll text them to you, but I guess not if your phone is broken. I’ll send them by carrier pigeon?”

“Pony express might be better in Texas,” Carlos says with a grin.

“Forget it. I’ll just bring some by tomorrow. If that’s okay?” T.K. says.

“Yes,” Carlos says immediately. “Please. I’m stuck here for at least a week and then it’s desk duty until these things come out.” 

“Desk duty sucks,” T.K. commiserates.

“We need to reschedule our date too. I don’t think my mom is going to let me out of the house for a few days,” Carlos tells him. “Maybe next week sometime?”

“I’m actually out of town,” T.K. says. “Heading back to New York to see my mom.”

“Oh, nice,” Carlos says.

They compare calendars and are disappointed to discover that between T.K.’s trip and work they don’t have a free day another three weeks. “Well I guess javelinas can’t keep us apart, but the people in charge of the APD and AFD master schedules can,” T.K. says in disappointment.

“Yeah,” Carlos says, looking equally morose.

“Hey!”

A voice hisses at them from the staircase and Luisa peeks down. “Are you two almost done? I can’t hold them up here for much longer. T.K. if you don’t want a full interrogation I suggest you get out of here soon.”

T.K. chuckles and stands up. “I’ll take that as my cue.”

“Thanks for coming,” Carlos says softly, his eyes shining in a way that makes T.K.’s heart do summersaults.

“Do you have a piece of paper somewhere?” T.K. asks.

Carlos directs him to a drawer in the kitchen where he grabs a pad of sticky notes and a pen, writing for a minute before handing the top sticky note over to Carlos. “That’s my number for when you get a new phone. Try not to text somebody else this time, okay?”

“Haha,” Carlos says drily. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow with the supplements,” T.K. promises. “Don’t let them drive you too crazy before then.”

“No promises,” Carlos sighs. “I love them. But they are so much.”

Voices float down the staircase and his eyes widen. “Run. Save yourself.”

T.K. chuckles and turns to head out, but just before he reaches the door he turns around and goes back. Leaning down he gives Carlos a peck on the lips. “I think we should skip coffee and go straight to dinner.”

“Yeah,” Carlos says, looking a little dazed. “Yeah dinner is great.”

T.K. grins. “Good.”

This time he actually does go and as he shuts the door he can hear Ana’s voice trailing out behind him. “Did T.K. leave? I wanted to talk to him!”

He smiles. Carlos is in good hands.

[courtingchaos]

Vulnerable

Gator Tillman x Female Reader

Shared Inflicted Pain

A/N: So I’ve been writing about this guy…I’ve had this and another piece kicking around my notes for a few weeks. Lost steam on them but I found my footing again. Still very much into this make believe asshole I’ve created. There’s some *gasp* feelings in this one, I know. Hope y’all like it. Also this ends maybe a little weird and abrupt but that’s because there’s more 😀

Warnings: Sex, mentions of bodily harm, knife play, blood, feelings (lol)

18+ NSFW No minors allowed

Gator had let you come along with him while he rode all the way out to Roy’s expansive ranch. You’d stayed in the truck obviously, staying out of sight if Roy decided to get feisty.

“No, you just creep him out and I don’t trust him to not pull a gun on you in his own home.” Gator warned you actually, kept looking over his shoulder the whole walk up to the house just in case you wanted to be a shit about it. You’d just wiggled your fingers at him over the long dashboard and settled deeper into your cocoon of flannel.

By the time he’s done you’ve almost dozed off, the sound of the engine turning over pulling you out of whatever frozen dream you were in.

“Where to?” You yawn, stretching as far as you can in the cab. He doesn’t reply, just shakes his head slightly and puts the truck in reverse.

“You kidnappin’ me Tillman?” You poke the side of his head enough that it jerks to the left. He slaps your hand down with his still casted right one and holds it pressed against the bench seat.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’ll tell you now, father won’t go over 5k for me.”

“So you’re worth less than a used Civic?”

You laugh, bobbing your head left and right in a mockery of thought. “Basically.”

He lays off your hand so he can whip the truck around in the driveway, headlights blurring over the freshly fallen snow. Instead of leaving the way you came, he drives slow up a small incline and off towards the tree line on the edge of Roy’s property.

“Seriously though, where are we going?” There’s a brief thought that maybe Gator was told to bring you out here. Maybe it was all under the guise of asking if you wanted to go for a ride. He still doesn’t answer you and you turn your body towards him. “Gator. I’m serious.” The quick change in your tone makes him glance at you. You’ve got your hand in your coat, pocket knife gripped in your fist. You try to remember if you brought your phone but it’s not like it’d do any good out here. Basically wilderness this far out and this late at night.

“You gonna knife me out here?” He’s not looking, just points with his right hand at your coat. “At least wait till I stop the truck.”

“Are you supposed to kill me?”

“What?” He laughs disbelievingly at you. “You think…” He trails off laughing again. You feel cornered and trapped and very fucking stupid until he gets past the trees a bit and slams the truck into park.

“I’ve got a helluva lot more respect for you than that.” He gives you a crooked grin. “Definitely more than your father.” He undoes his seatbelt and leans over to unclip yours. You flinch back against the door and he pauses. Tilts his head at you and rolls his tongue over his bottom lip before he sighs.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“That’d be unusual.”

He chuckles and grabs your knee to pull himself across the seat. “Mm. Well I won’t kill you.”

“Even if Roy asked?” Your heart isn’t hammering quite so anxiously now that he’s got his face this close. There’s a flutter of an expression across his brow but it’s gone before you can think about it too much.

“Why would he ask.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t like my father.” You drop your gaze when his good hand starts working on the snaps of your heavy coat. He’s got a little bit better movement with his bad hand now and he uses it to pull your leg closer to him. “I’m too smart for my own good. You said I creep him out. Take your pick.” He pulls your zipper down and gets his hand in your coat to push it aside. He just hums at you and leans into your neck to bury his nose under your ear.

“Why’d you bring me out here then?” You aren’t exactly in the mood for this right now. You’ve barely gotten your hand unwrapped from the pocket knife and he’s already trying to fuck.

“Jesus christ, I just asked if you wanted to go for a ride.” He leans back annoyed.

“You don’t ask me to do things. You don’t ask anything actually.”

“Do I need to?”

“No, but if you’re gonna take me out to the fuckin’ woods on a whim, I’d like to know ahead of time. That’s how you end up with a bullet in the head!”

His hand grips your jaw and knocks your head back into the passenger window with a thunk. He hovers over you best he can in the truck cab, his knee digging into your shin.

“If I wanted to I woulda done it by now.” He pushes your chin up to resume his attack on your neck. That first bite makes you hiss and he smiles against you, hand dropping to pull at the button on your jeans.

He’s got you sighing and squirming under his mouth, making quick work of putting an end to any protest you may have been thinking of. You wedge your hands between the two of you to work on his thick belt and when you manage to get your hand past his stupid camo pants he sits up from you before yanking you down the seat. He pulls your legs till you’re on your back, shirt and coat bunched up under you. You start to open your mouth to say something but he clamps his left hand over it and pulls at your jeans roughly until you cut him some slack and help him. Your laughter bleeds out from under his palm and he takes the opportunity to shove his middle and ring fingers in your mouth.

“It ain’t nice to laugh.” He warns you. He watches you for a moment, a deep sigh pushed through his nose while you suck loudly on his fingers.

“Pull your jeans down.”

You smile around his fingers and wiggle your hips to work your pants down. You bite into his knuckles when he tries to pull them out of your mouth, the rest of his fingers squeezing at your cheeks till you release him with a quiet laugh.

Pants barely down your hips he grabs the waistband and yanks them to your knees and lays into you. Your huff turns into a groan when you feel him pull his cock out and slide it along your wet slit. He lets out a shuddering laugh and leans back to stare at your cunt, right hand holding your knee back.

“You thought you were in real danger out here and you’re fuckin’ soaked.” He taps the fat head of his cock against you, pushing down till he slides between your folds and catches your clit, your eyes rolling back continuing his laughter.

“All I gotta do is take you out to the woods.” A few more rocks of his hips and he finally pushes in quick to bury himself deep.

It’s cold even with the truck on and the heat running. When you pant heavy under him you can barely see your breath and you could think of worse ways to stay warm.

“Gator?” You ask when he doesn’t move right away. With both hands braced on the backs of your knees he just grunts at you, face scrunched up in what looks like concentration. “You gonna move?”

“Y’warm.” He stays seated right up against you until he snaps his hips hard enough to knock your head into the door. He does it a few more times before he reaches up and grabs the top of your head to cushion it with his good hand. He keeps your knees pushed into your chest while he fucks the cold air out of you, small gasps forced out of your throat on every thrust. He goes about his normal and tries to bite your neck as much as he can, teeth nipping into sensitive skin while he pushes all his weight on you.

This feels a little different than normal to you. There’s a frantic feeling that’s missing from him tonight but maybe it’s the truck. The snow does make it feel like something akin to romance and he did ask you if you wanted to go for a ride.

“You got s-somethin’ on your m-mind?” You warble out between thrust. He doesn’t respond with words, just keeps mouthing along your neck and getting the collar of your shirt wet with spit. Tonight should be like all the other times, a quick one off. Except he’s moving over you with a purpose, mumbling against your throat and rolling your skin between his teeth gentler than normal.

He tells you you’re taking him so good. He tells you he loves how wet you get over him and the danger. He tells you you’re a good girl, his good girl.

Your hands end up tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back so you can get a good look at his face. He’s not supposed to start this shit, neither of you are. This was supposed to be a fucking around in dark corners kind of thing. A quick release of venom and a purge of anger to keep you both palatable to the masses. Suddenly though he’s talking about you like he thinks about you in the off times.

“Gator.” You strain out on a particularly hard thrust. He won’t let you pull his head up no matter how much it must sting against his scalp.

“Gator look at m-“ He brings the hand cushioning your head against the door to instead over your mouth again, a frustrated growl crawling out from between the two of you. You because he won’t listen to you yet again and him because you won’t shut the fuck up and let him have this.

“I just wanted you to myself for once.” His nose drags harshly up the underside of your jaw. “Not in a fuckin’ mud room or some garage.” His skin is slick against yours where a thin sheen of sweat has found a home along his cheek. He sits up enough to look down at you finally, hand still clamped over your mouth. “No Roy. No family.” His movements have stopped and you can feel him twitch deep inside you. “It’s quiet.” His eyes roam your face for a moment. “I like the quiet.”

“Be good, yeah?”

When you nod silently he lets your face go to fish around in your coat pocket, pulling out the silver knife you’d kept hidden. He flicks it open with ease and wedges it into your lax hand. You barely have a grip on it before he gets in your face and pulls your fist up to lay against his collar bone.

“I’m not gonna kill you.” A slow roll of his hips makes you moan high. “Roy can’t tell me to do that.” You watch the edge of the knife make a dent in his skin as he leans closer, nose brushing yours, eyes locked in your gaze. “I might hurt you, but you did break my fuckin’ wrist.” Your laugh is mostly breath, eyes flicking between his face and the metal pushing slowly into his neck. “If I go too far, you can knife me then, but it’s only me.” He picks up his pace, the rolling of hips turning into deep rutting, and he holds you in place with your coat bunched up in his fists. “Only me, right?” If he sounds desperate you don’t acknowledge it, just nodding at him breathless while he starts to loose whatever control he had. You’re nowhere near the edge, too lost in watching him fall apart while the knife digs further in and you have a moment of worry. Before you can voice it though he lurches in to kiss you. A hard press of teeth behind lips, a low groan streaming out of him when your hand slips and cuts him shallow, and he’s coming hot inside you. His hips stutter while your hands wind around his neck to hold him in place against your mouth, heavy breathing trapped between you two.

You expect him to catch his breath and pretend like this didn’t just happen. He’s not concerned with your end of things usually, just zipping his pants up and leaving, but when he pulls out you barely have time to process before he’s shoving your knees back into your chest and burying his face in your cunt, tongue bullying it’s way in until he hits your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You’re more sensitive than you realized and his relentless lapping against you makes your hips rock into his face until he holds you still. You’ve got nowhere to go, can’t move away from his mouth no matter how much you squirm under his iron grip so it’s barely a minute later and you’re gasping his name. Grasping at anything in your reach you leave a streak of red down his passenger window, his blood still on your hand. Dizziness claws through your head, the crash of your orgasm quick and fast and all you can do is stare up at the headliner and take deep breaths. Hands still clawed on the freezing window and wound in his hair.

He tucks your legs down and does a half assed job of trying to get your jeans up before he climbs over you, pushing your hand away from his head. “You with me?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Maybe.” Your voice sounds foreign to you, the pitch too high. Your heart thrums in your chest and you’re positive he can hear it. When you finally drag your eyes down you catch the shine of both of you on his chin and the red on his neck. Not dripping but wet enough to catch the light. Your finger trails lazily over his face and then down his neck, still cold from being pressed into the window. He barely registers it, too busy watching your eyes dance over his neck and his blood.

It’s how he watched your lip bleed over the wall, and how he watched the bites bloom over your throat for a day or two after some dark corner. He gets the stupid thought in his head that he’d let you cut him whenever you want if it means you keep your cold finger on him.

“Do you wanna go home?” It’s a stupid question. Neither of you want that but he doesn’t know what to say right now. The air shifted about 20 minutes ago and he hasn’t found his footing again, that creeping feeling of emotions he ignores swirling around his skull.

“No.” You don’t look at his eyes when you answer, finger going tacky over his skin where the blood starts to dry. Instead you wordlessly sit up and wiggle back into your jeans while he tries to find his belt loops again. You slump into your corner of the cab and quietly toy around with your knife while he puts the truck in drive and acts like he can’t feel your eyes boring a hole in the side of his head. When you stretch out your legs and shove them over his thigh he just huffs, and when he notices your breathing go heavy he drops a hand on your ankle.

[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero Part 4

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Months after moving away from Stark County, things finally come to a head as you confront your fears and the Tillmans confront the law. How will Gator react and what truths will emerge?

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show, mentions of DV

Length: 3.3k +

A/N: This one deviates from cannon. I had a theory while watching the show. It turned out to be incorrect, but I really liked it and had already used it as the foundation for this series, so I decided to run with it anyway. Tah-dah! This is kind of an AU, but I really like it!

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

"Batman. Superman. Spiderman. Ugh! It's always gotta be guys doing the hero stuff!" you huff, splaying out Gator's comic books that sit atop the cafeteria table.

"Duh!" he replies as you plunk yourself down beside the dark-haired boy. "They've got the superpowers; of course they're gonna save the day!"

"Yeah, but it's always about a guy, and the girl is the one that always hasta be saved. What you need is to read this one, Gate." You slap down an issue of Wonder Woman in front of your best friend. "Now she's a superhero!"

Gator stares skeptically at the bright yellows and reds that compose the artwork on the comic book cover.

"Go ahead," you grin triumphantly, "take it home for a bit. I personally guarantee that you'll love it!"

With his hardened frown dissolving into a warm smile, a twelve-year-old Gator Tillman peers fondly at his best friend next to him. Somehow you always managed to make him feel good: valued, accepted, and truly understood.

Nodding affirmatively, Gator then gathers the comic and tucks it in his backpack along with the others for the trip home. That, however, would be the last time you would see your issue of Wonder Woman. Days turned into weeks, and Gator claimed that he "wasn't finished yet". Excuses piled up until you eventually forgot that the comic even existed. In reality, however, it was Roy Tillman who ensured that the Amazonian heroine had no influence on his son.

-x-

The simple days of comic books have long since passed. Now, here you are in a completely different state, living each day by constantly glancing over your shoulder. Sleep eludes you despite the four deadbolts on your tiny apartment’s door. The smallest, most insignificant noises startle you, causing panic to seize your chest in a vice-like grip, terrified that he’s found you. Even your performance at work has declined, which is something that neither you nor your patients can afford. While you might have escaped from Stark County, the looming fear of Roy Tillman and his son follows you like the darkest of rain clouds.

A soft touch to your shoulder makes your body stiffen and your muscles jump. The echoes of beeping machines and the fluorescent lighting overhead reel you back to reality as the hand pulls away, startled by your reaction.

“Are you alright?” the head nurse speaks softly. “Mr. Patel’s dressing needs changing in room 305.”

As you turn around to face your boss, it’s clear your answer to her question is a resounding ‘no’.

The nurse’s features deepen with concern. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

You have held everything in for a couple months now, completely isolated and alone – too afraid to tell your truth in case the long arm of Roy Tillman’s law finds you. However, your boss is here in the present. She runs a tight ship at work, expecting your best, but she has also shown you nothing but kindness. And right now, her sincerity is breaking down the barriers that hold your fears tightly locked away.

Flagging down another nurse to cover the hospital floor, the two of you escape to a break room, where you find the courage to release your truths. You tell her about Gator and about Roy. You tell her that you are sorry for your inadequate performance at work but that you are just so scared. And instead of judging you, she holds you while you cry. She reassures you that you are brave and that she cares. But she also delivers the harsh reality that you can’t go on this way – that the only way to permanently end this torment is to go to the police.

At first, you recoil in aversion. The tendrils of your fear extend to the possibility that the Tillmans have connections across several state lines, yet the gentle encouragements from the head nurse help settle your unease. You know deep down that it is the right thing to do.

-x-

A loud bang on the door startles Gator awake. His head lolls towards his alarm clock, his eyes slowly peeling open. 1am?!? For Christ’s sake! Wiping the drool from his mouth, the Tillman son throws on a dirty white tank top to match his boxers and begins to drag himself into the hallway.

Another couple of loud knocks ring out amongst muffled shouts. Who the fuck is that, and what the fuck do they want?!? Gator seethes, patience worn thin.

BANG BANG BANG “North Dakota state police! Open up!”

Oh, shit! With his system now fully jolted awake, Gator scrambles down the hall. “Dad!” he yells frantically, open palm slapping against his father’s bedroom door. “Dad!”

The door swings open, and an angry gaze is immediately cast down over Gator. Roy towers over his son, nipple piercings glinting in the low light. “What have I told you about waking me, boy?”

Gator visibly shrinks, his face wrought with panic. “But dad, it’s the –”

BANG BANG BANG “North Dakota state police! This is your final warning! Open up!”

The two men’s heads whip towards the direction of the front door downstairs. Roy shoves his son out of the way, bounding down the staircase at lightning speed. Gator is left behind with his mouth gaping; a confused and sleepy Karen joins him at the bedroom entrance. She sleepily wraps her robe around herself, unaware of the events about to transpire.

The next several moments pass by in a hazy blur. Gator hears his father greet the police and listens as that deep voice raises in anger. The figures stir, and the next thing Gator witnesses is his father being forcefully cuffed and led out the front door. Karen shrieks, and her wails ring through Gator’s ears as she runs out of the house after her husband. Gator feels as though life is in slow motion; that the world around him is crumbling away. He barely registers what's happening thereafter until he feels the cool metal of a handcuff being secured around his wrist. He blinks slowly as his other arm is guided behind his back and a cuff cinches shut.

He should resist. He should be fighting back like the reptile he is named for…Yet, he doesn't. Instead of panic, instead of fear, a weird sensation akin to relief takes root and begins to blossom inside of Gator’s chest as he, too, is led out of his childhood home towards the blue and red flashing lights that pierce the darkness.

-x-

“I’m not saying a word. Not. A. Fucking. Word!” spits the Tillman son before harshly folding his arms across his chest and gluing his gaze to the metal table in front of him.

“Peter,” coaxes a female police officer. “We know you were there. Just tell us what happened.”

Gator doesn’t look up. He simply swallows thickly.

The middle-aged officer shifts from her place beside the table; her sleek shadow moves next to her in the dim lighting as she takes a seat across from the young man. Her voice lowers and mellows as she begins to speak. “You must really like her,” the officer pauses to allow her words to sink in. “You just wanted your chance to be with her. No one can fault you for that. But, she told us her version of that night in the parking lot, and now we need your side of it too.”

A brief flicker from hazel irises catch in the light. A thumb rubs anxiously back and forth along his bicep, and a pair of thin lips pinch together tightly. Yet still, Gator Tillman remains quiet.

The officer glances behind her and gives a nod towards the two-way mirror. Mere seconds later, the interview room door creaks open, and her colleague, a six-foot-something brick shithouse of a man, enters the room. His presence seems to swallow the entirety of the small space.

Gator’s gaze flashes up towards the large officer, brows knitting defiantly.

“Peter,” the female officer starts again, a soft tone still woven into her words, “we would like you to see something.”

-x-

“Sheriff Tillman,” chimes a female FBI agent, “things will be so much easier for you if you just tell us the truth. We have your son in the next room over. Tell us what happened before he does.”

“My son?” The man bursts out in bitter laughter. “My son is a waste of space. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. He goes out and makes a fool of himself in front of some dumb broad, and then comes crying to daddy to help him win her over.”

The FBI agent plants her palms firmly on the metal table and leans in to stare her suspect down. “According to what our witness told us, it doesn’t seem like you set out to do any of that.”

Roy scoffs. “The only reason I went to chat with that young lady was because my so-called son was too much of a pussy to land the little whore on his own!”

Biting back a smirk, the agent presses on. “Your son seems to be a touchy subject for you, Roy. You hired him as your deputy, so he must be doing something right.”

Roy’s face contorts as if he has just heard the most outrageous statement imaginable. “The boy is a complete fuckup.” He grits his teeth. “It’s been that way ever since he took his first breath. All scrawny and weak. I thought a job on the force would toughen him up – make a man out of him – but he’s still just as pathetic as the day he was born.”

Even as he sits in police-issue sweatpants and t-shirt, Roy Tillman’s presence consumes the oxygen in the room. The resentment the senior Tillman holds for his son is reflected back at him in the two-way mirror.

Yet, just beyond that mirror is the face of a boy. One who has just been shoved headfirst into reality. He remains quiet, attempting to hide the emotions that course under his skin – afraid that somehow his father can see him watching on.

“Peter,” the officer speaks quietly from over his shoulder. “You don’t have to protect him anymore.”

Gator stares silently at his father. The Stark County sheriff looks like a caged beast that is aggressively pacing its confinements as it plots the best moment to strike.

“I can’t…” whispers Gator, the words catching in his throat.

A warm hand finds his shoulder. “You can, Peter. If not for yourself, then for her. You have the chance to make things right.”

-x-

"Mr. Tillman," bellows the prosecutor. Gator blinks, refocusing on the wood-decorated courtroom and the many faces that fill the rows of his surroundings. "You have testified here today on the many crimes – illegal weapons dealings, internal police corruption, and missing person’s cases – that Sheriff Roy Tillman is allegedly accused of orchestrating and or committing. However, there is one missing person's case that has yet to be discussed –"

"OBJECTION!" yells the defense lawyer, rising to his feet with palms slapping down against his desk. "This is new evidence that my council has not been informed of!"

A gasp resonates amongst the shocked crowd in the gallery.

The judge levels her gaze at both men. “Approach.”

"Your honor," explains the prosecution coolly as he arrives at the bench, "this testimony falls under the category of missing persons from Stark County which the state and the defense have agreed are admissible topics inside this court."

The judge silently consults her notes. It seems as though everyone in the room is holding in a collective breath. Finally, the judge announces her conclusion, "Overruled. I'll allow it. Please continue."

The defense attorney angrily sits back down, exchanging careful glances with his client as he does.

From his seat, Roy Tillman’s hardened eyes descend upon his son. In the past, that look always made Gator fold as easily as a house of cards. This time, however, Gator finds the courage to turn away. His hazel eyes seek out yours, and he finds you sitting quietly behind the prosecution, unwilling to allow any Tillman to witness the fear that runs through your veins.

"Peter," chimes the prosecutor. "Can you please tell the jury what you saw that day?"

Snapping out of his trance, Gator shifts to focus on the lawyer in front of him. He swallows thickly. It's now or never.

"I – I was five years old,” he begins. “One evening my mother came rushing into my room. She told me to pack my favorite toys into a bag because we had to leave right away. She never told me why; she just left my room in a hurry.” Gator’s expression suddenly changes. It appears as though he has been transported to some distant place in his memory. “Then… I remember hearing the front door slam and heavy footsteps pound up the stairs to my door. It was my father. He pointed a finger at me and told me to get in bed. To not come out. I remember being so confused as he shut my door and left. Next thing I heard was the yelling and shouting. Both my mother and father were screaming at each other. Again.”

“What happened next, Peter?” the prosecution coaxes gently.

“I – I was just trying to figure out what was going on.” Gator’s eyes squeeze shut at the memory. “I disobeyed my father and crept to the edge of the stairs. I sat just out of sight and watched it through the banister.”

“It? What was it that you saw?” the prosecutor prompts again.

“I saw my father swing and momma drop.” Gator’s voice falters, tone becoming boyish at the mention of his mother. “When she didn’t get up, my father picked her up and put her over his shoulder. I – I remember her hand dangling as he carried her towards the back door. I was so scared. I ran back up to my room and got in bed.”

“Peter, that must have been a very traumatic experience for you, especially at such a young age. But do you remember any other details about that night?”

“I remember seeing our shaggy white rug being stained bright red as my mother was lying on it. That rug was gone the next day.”

“Okay, good. Now, why didn’t you tell anyone? Why keep this a secret for so many years? You must have loved your mother, no?”

“Of course I loved my mom!” Gator’s voice cracks again. “But I never told anyone because I had disobeyed my father that night. I knew I would be punished if he found out.”

“Punished how, Peter?”

“The belt.”

The prosecutor nods somberly. “And what did your father tell you had happened to your mother?”

“My father told me – told everyone – that mom had run away. That she didn't want to be with us anymore. I spent twenty-some years convincing myself that his story was true."

As Gator concludes his testimony, you notice a shimmer in his eyes. He swallows hard to blink the moisture away.

On the opposite side of the courtroom, Roy's jaw clenches and unclenches, his features betraying his shock and anger. He clearly hadn't known what Gator witnessed all those years ago, and if looks could kill, Gator's body would already be cold.

The gallery remains eerily silent.

"Thank you, Mr. Tillman," speaks the judge. "Would the defense like to cross-examine?"

"We would, your honor," replies Roy's attorney through tight lips.

The stout man rises from his seat and buttons his suit coat. He clears his throat. "Mr. Tillman – Gator. “You fit to benefit from testifying against your father today, don’t you?" Before the Tillman son has a chance to reply, the lawyer opens his mouth again. "Is it true that you will receive a reduced sentence despite admitting to being a major player in some of the alleged crimes committed?"

Gator stares up at the defense attorney dejectedly. "Yes, sir," he admits. "Five years for accessory, plus psychiatric counseling."

You watch as some jury members knit their brows together. Prosecutors make deals all the time in exchange for testimony. This reveal shouldn't come as a surprise.

The lawyer’s smirk widens as he turns to the judge. "The defense rests, your honor."

Nodding towards Gator, the judge dismisses him, and a bailiff escorts him quietly towards the exit of the courtroom. As he passes your row, Gator cautiously meets your gaze for the second time that day. He merely gives you a solemn frown before once again bowing his head as he is led away.

Meanwhile, you are left standing there completely dumbfounded, your mind swimming with thoughts. Who would have known that this whole situation would unravel into something so sinister? You knew that Roy Tillman was a shady character. You knew that many in Stark County feared him, but you never could have fathomed the extent as to why. Neither could you have predicted how all of this had influenced Gator. Yet somehow, the pieces of the puzzle fit together seamlessly. The introverted boy from middle school. The bully from high school. The pompous ass you swore at outside of the retirement home. And even Roy's threat in the dark parking lot. It all added up. Gator had spent twenty-plus years harbouring a dark secret while his father attempted to mold Gator into a carbon copy of himself. The years of abuse, neglect, and conditioning… It didn’t excuse everything that had happened, but it certainly put it all into perspective.

-x-

In the days that follow, you attend each court session dutifully. You hear other witness testimony that incriminates Roy in a multitude of nefarious actions. You even hear from a young woman named Dorothy, who bravely stares down the sheriff as she recounts the abuse she endured by his hand.

Of course, the defense tries to weave the evidence into misconstrued accounts that shift the blame away from the senior Tillman. But as the trial wears on, the faces of the jurors drift from skepticism towards disgust. And, as the final verdict is read, tension converts to relief when Roy Tillman is found guilty on each criminal charge he is tried for.

You watch stoically as the disgraced Sheriff is led away, tethered in cuffs and chains, yet somehow this result feels partially empty. Countless lives have forever been altered by this man, and the weight of that grim realization smothers you. Your thoughts briefly drift to Gator and how he, despite everything he admitted to, is yet another victim of the corrupt county sheriff.

You shake those dark thoughts away as you file out of the courtroom amongst the rest of the crowd.

-x-

A couple months go by, and you finally allow yourself to breathe. Roy Tillman is locked away in a maximum security facility, never to wield his power again, while Gator has been sent east to serve out his time.

Back in Stark County, the harsh winter passes. Frigid snow retreats, allowing the landscape to blossom once again. And, just as spring rolls into the county, so do you. After all, your heart had always been at the retirement home, seeking to give back to the community you grew up in. Life even seems to return to normal as Stark County gradually beings to heal from the long reign of the Tillman lineage.

Then, on one beautiful spring afternoon, you return home from your shift to find a padded envelope resting against your door frame. Taking the package inside, you notice that the return address belongs to a federal correctional institution in New Hampshire. Your brow furrows in confusion as you open up the envelope.

Its contents make you gasp.

Bright yellows and reds catch your eye as a familiar image brings up forgotten memories. Attached to the front cover of the Wonder Woman issue is a sticky note that reads:

I’m sorry for everything.

                             - Gator

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

(An epilogue is in the works!)

[random-fandom-chaos]

You’re Alright..I’m Here…

Hi! Hi! First ask! Thank you to: @arttime567!!!

Solar Angst! This takes place in Solar’s dimension in the start but in Sun & Moon’s dimension towards the middle or end. Basically Moon comforting Solar at the end

And if it’s Solar’s Moon than it’s: S!Moon

but if it’s New Moon than it’s: N!Moon

This is Solar’s POV! This wasn’t checked over-

Angst 💔 -to- Fluff 💕

pairings: None! All is platonic!

Characters: (New) Moon!, Solar, And Solar’s Moon

Started: 9:43pm!

Writer: Chaos

Leeets get to writing!!!

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Here we go again…my Moon’s screaming…again…I get I did build a damn satélite without permission! You don’t have to explain…Ugh I wish he would kill me or something…

S!Moon: “The Gator’s coming later.”

Solar: “What- why?!”

S!Moon: “probably because you built a satélite without permission…”

S!Moon responded With a snarl…god I hate him…As he walked away I mumbled

Solar: “I built one for a friend…a better friend that’s you…”

Around an hour later I continued working on the go-karts…Stupid kids…they always manage to break them! They’re toddlers! How can they unscrew a dang bolt?!

I sigh…Finally being able to fix the darn thing…

As I walk back to trashed place I call “my room” I see Moon…he just glared at me…And pulled me somewhere?? That can’t be good..

S!Moon: “So?…How have you been doing on fixing My brother?”

Solar: “…it’s not as easy! We need new parts!”

I respond…so that’s what it’s about…

Solar: “He’s practically a vegetable-“

I get cut off my a slap…He looked at me angrily, and for the first time I feel…afraid?… S!Moon: “SHUT UP. JUST ORDER THE DANG PARTS I DON’T CARE.”

Of course he doesn’t care…I look at him

S!Moon: “I SWEAR- I should just kill you! You’re the reason my brothers like this! It’s your fault!”

I look up at him…sighing…Before running out of that room

…god I miss Lunar, After he came here to my dimension I still don’t know how! But he is a good kid…as if on cue I hear the portal…Moon wasn’t there here right now at least after his fit of anger he went to the gator’s…who could that be?….I See…ANOTHER MOON?!- F##k- gotta hide- gotta hide-

I managed to duck behind a play place there…That Moon looks around…I can hear him mutter

New!Moon: “Where is that dude…Lunar told me about him…”

He walked around- WAIT. LUNAR?!…WHAT DID HE SAY… I stayed hidden probably a damn second away from a panic attack as I drop down with my knees toy chest just waiting to see what happened…again that darn feeling! The feeling of being afraid! I hate it. I just stay there…oily tears softly spill- WAIT- NO- nonononono- this can’t be happening I can’t cry. Not here. No…C’Mon Solar! Stay strong…That Moon can’t know you’re here…I was shaking though…my anxiety was at its peak…I was muttering curses before feeling a…soft hand? On my shoulder?…SHI- that’s the other Moon…please don’t hurt me- please…

Solar: “Fuc-“

I softly muttered flinching and backing away from him…What’s he going to do to me?…He give me space- what- He just kneels down next to me…I don’t mind…I don’t know why I don’t mind! He looks kind…WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME-

N!Moon: “Hey?…You’re Solar right? Lunar’s talked about you…he wanted me to come get you?….I don’t know, but by the looks of this place I think it would be better…”

I softly shook, Just sighing

Solar: “…Yes I’m Solar…”

the shakiness in my voice visible…why was I so scared?

He nodded and got me up…just walking me to the portal as I fidgeted with the gloves I had…Hoping my Moon wouldn’t come now…

Speak of the devil…

He Walked in…The other Moon almost instinctively pushed me into the portal…whom I fell FACE FIRST. Into…him soon jumping in. Solar: “…ugh…”

N!Moon: “You good?”

I give a thumbs up

Solar: “Who even are you?”

N!Moon: “I’m Moon…Lunar’s older brother…He isn’t here right now…Anyways…are you okay…you looked a second away from a panic attack back there-“

he pulled me up to my feet as he took me to his room, still talking or asking questions I answered appropriately for my standards.

He just sat me down on one of his chairs at his room and hugged me?…I didn’t know why but I just…Cried? In a very long time…My mind is foggy and fuzzy since I just let my emotions out…This Moon comforts me…This feels so weird but calming? He just hugged him tightly…

N!Moon: “I know I just met you but I heard of the horrors of that place…but..”

he shakily sighed

N!Moon: “You’re Alright…I’m Here..”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Time ended: 10:13pm! @arttime567 Hi! I hope you like it! I tried my best! I’m sorry if you didn’t find it to your satisfaction.

❤️Thanks for reading lovelies

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Heart Of Wires (Sundrop/Moondrop x DCA!OC Piper) Part 2

Hello hello! I am so sorry to all of my Monty fans for this chapter, I love him I promise but who better to play our villain this chapter? A couple warnings in this chapter, mostly just super fluffy and sweet as Piper and our Daycare Attendants get to know each other and start falling for each other. I hope you enjoy!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: Monty is kind of a creep this chapter, he makes Piper uncomfortable, unwanted flirting, robot on robot violence, fighting, yelling, punching, mentions of workplace harassment, mention of a stalker, some swearing, I think that's it, if there's anything you would like me to add please let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 4,946

Part 1 - Part 3

Piper adjusts the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder as she rides up the escalator. This was the first morning she wasn't greeted with Merry’s cheerful expression as she walked into the Pizzaplex. Piper had been working in the daycare for almost a month at this point, she didn't need anyone to show her how to get there, but there was something odd about the bubbly blond being missing from her usual post. Typically, when Piper arrived, she was busy handing piles of maps to the line of Mapbots that were going through their daily pre-shift checks, wishing each of them a Faz-tastic day as they sped off. The Pizzaplex made Piper feel uneasy, being the only sign of life in such a massive space didn't feel right. She guessed she never really noticed that feeling with a friend by her side. She jumped out of the way of Staff bots that whizzed by her, carrying new boxes of neon balls over to the mini-golf course, bags of paper cups to El Chip’s. “Piper!” She nearly jumped out of her own skin when her voice was suddenly called. Her head snapped to the side, finding Merry heading in her direction. Piper froze in place, happy to see her friend, but terrified by the sight behind her. It was important to note that Merry was not a small woman. She stood around 5 '11, her whole body was broad and muscular from years of doing strenuous, physical labor, being the lead service technician here Piper could only imagine how strong Merry was. She would be willing to bet that Merry could crush her head like an egg with her bicep alone. So, at the sight of the hulking green alligator that sauntered behind her, absolutely dwarfing Merry, Piper had to stop herself from bolting to the daycare in search of safety.

“So this is the new DCA.” The Gator, she thinks his name was Montgomery, rumbles. “You didn't tell me she was cute.” He gazes at Piper hungrily, lips pulling back into a smile of sharp teeth. Piper swallows thickly, goosebumps erupting across her skin as she holds his leering gaze. There was a soft ‘tink’ of Merry slapping the animatronic’s arm.

“Stop it.” She shoots him a warning glance. “Piper, this is Monty. I figured I'd introduce him ahead of time since he’s going to be swinging by the daycare for a party later.”

“Yeah, I remember Sun telling me about that.” Her eyes stay subtly trained on Monty, not wanting to let him out of her sight. She could see him roll his eyes under his yellow and purple star shaped sunglasses.

“I thought you said it was just going to be me?” He mutters to Merry.

“Sun is going to be there to show Piper the ropes, okay? I know the two of you don't always see eye to eye-”

“That's an understatement.” He scoffs.

“As I was saying,” she cuts him off with an annoyed glare. “Try to get along.” Her expression softens as her attention turns back to Piper.

“It should be an easy day, you just have to keep them on schedule.” She reassures you. She groans as her pager beeps on her belt, she unclips it and quickly reads the message. “If it wasn't bad enough… first you have a golf ball lodged in your shoulder joint-” she trails off grumbling to herself. “Come on, I have to get you back to Gator Golf.” She waves for Monty to follow her. “We’ll catch up later, I want to hear all about your first party.” She smiles warmly at Piper, clapping her on the shoulder as she passes by.

“Guess I'll be seeing you later.” Monty winks at her as he passes by, quickly snapping his jaws in her direction so that she would get startled. He chuckles at her expression, giving Piper one final wave before he follows after Merry. Piper makes the rest of the trip to the daycare in silence, the whole interaction with Monty not sitting right with her. She sits on one of the brightly colored wooden benches in the daycare’s lobby for a moment. Piper remembers other men she had issues with in the past who started out acting like Monty just had with her. Being backed into office corners, trying not to gag from their coffee stained breaths as they stood too close to her. It took her years to shake the ex coworker who had started stalking her after she rejected him. She shook the thought from her head. She discarded her messenger bag in the staff only room before flinging herself down the slide with growing familiarity. She clatters into the ball pit, letting the feeling of the cool plastic pressing into her skin ground her from a moment as she allows herself to lay there. She hears Sundrop’s long, even strides approach her.

“Good morning Piper!” He greets her cheerily, pausing when he sees the agitated look on her face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just had a weird interaction this morning.” She explains with a sigh. “I think I just need a minute to level myself out.” When she spoke again Sun noticed the unmistakable tremor in her voice, she was nervous. He sits down on the edge of the ball pit, not wanting to risk overwhelming her by invading her space, he figured it would be best to let her decide whether or not she would come to him.

“Why does she look scared?” Moon’s voice rattles in the back of Sun’s head.

“Did something happen?” If he found out someone had hurt you-

“Have you ever met someone and the whole interaction just feels off?” Before he had a chance to fly too far off the handle she spoke up, the sound of her voice reminding him that this was about her, he needed to make sure she was okay before anything else. “I know I probably sound stupid, but just the way he looked at me… I don't know.” She glances to the side at the sound of plastic clattering against plastic. Sun was currently wading into the ball pit in her direction.

“Sunbeam,” he crouches down next to her, a look of concern painted across his features. Piper had to resist the urge to reach out for him, he was the only thing that seemed to provide any comfort to her at the moment. “I want to make you feel better, but for the life of me I can't seem to think of how I can do that.” He lets out a soft chuckle.

“He called me cute,” his entire body froze as he remembered Moon calling her pretty the first day they met. “It made me feel gross, I don't know how else to describe it.” He carefully retracted the appendage that rested closest to her, the temptation of taking her much smaller hand in his own flashing through his mind, but he knew that's the last thing she probably wanted right now.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sunny, why are you apologizing for something he did?” His eyes finally met hers, perfect blue little ponds that stood out like sapphires against her pale complexion.

“Well it's just, the day you started, Moon called you pretty. We just don't want you feeling gross about us, too.” He explains in an almost embarrassed tone. Piper sits up, stumbling slightly as the balls threaten to send her crashing to the floor beneath them. She maneuvers herself closer to him, putting herself directly into his line of sight.

“I need both of you to listen to me.” Her tone was firm, Sun had never seen her be so serious before. “Sunny, Moon, you are both wonderful. I look forward to coming here everyday because I get to see you. I don't think you're gross.” She chuckles as she reassures them. Her cheeks grew warm as she continued, “if anything I’m flattered that you think I'm pretty.” She smiles bashfully at them, causing him to feel that strange pang in his chest again. “He made me feel small… objectified…” She carefully chooses her words, not exactly sure what the passing comment from Monty made her feel but it was definitely somewhere in the neighborhood of what she was trying to articulate to Sun. “The two of you have never made me feel that way.” She finishes quietly, her eyes averting from his. He shifts slightly, wanting to pull her into a hug. Before he had a chance to agonize over asking for her permission or to just let it go, Piper made the decision for him. She pushes forward, wrapping her arms around his slim torso, his metal body cool against her burning cheeks. He thought he had blown a fuse for a second, he couldn't seem to think. But as he glanced down at her everything seemed to fall into place. Her body perfectly slotted against his, the soft smile that graced her lips. He embraces her tightly in return, her shoulders noticeably relaxing as if being close to him like this was enough to erase all the stress from her body.

“We won't let him make you feel like that again.”

Who Piper assumed was the birthday boy bounded up to Sun the second he crawled his way out of the ball pit. “Well hey there, Eli! Happy birthday!” The large animatronic scoops the boy up into his arms with ease. “This is Miss Piper, she’ll be here to help make sure your big day is extra special!” He gives Piper a shy wave that she happily returns. The boy's bright green eyes scan around the room.

“Where's Monty?” Piper caught Sun twitch slightly out of the corner of her eye at the mention of his name.

“He’s going to be coming by later when we go upstairs for cake and ice cream!” He explains, bouncing the boy on his hip as he carries him off to his group of waiting friends. The party itself was simple enough to handle; 15 kids, a few extra activities than the normal day to day routine, nothing crazy. Sun had decided to keep a close eye on Piper, the whole ordeal this morning obviously making her a bit anxious. He loved watching her interact with the kids, she truly was amazing at it. Sun couldn't help but smile as he watched her admire a paper pal she was being presented with, the face nothing but googly eyes.

“I need to apologize to her.” Moon rasps.

“She said there was no need to Moon, she’s not upset with us.” Sun responds.

“Still, I would like to say something.” He grumbles. “And I would like to find out who exactly she had an interaction with this morning.”

“Me too.” Sun glanced up at the clock, there was about an hour left until Monty was due to show up. “Here, spend some time with her before cake, I don't need you being more irritable than usual while he's around.” Sun makes eye contact with Piper, making the motion of opening a book with his hands to signal it was story time.

“Alright boys and girls, we have one more activity before it's time for cake.” She explains in her usual chipper tone, earning a chorus of cheers from the group. “We’re going to have spooky story time with Moondrop.” She lowers her tone as she continues, setting the slightly eerie mood that made all the kids giggle in excitement. She groups all of them up, leading them into the nap room and having them all get settled around a fake campfire that had been set up in the middle of the room before turning off the lights. Sun stepped into the dark room and shut the door, Piper heard the soft whirs and clicks as Moon took center stage. He turns to face her and gives her a bashful smile.

“Piper, I know you said I didn't have to apologize for calling you pretty-”

“And I meant that.” She cuts him off with a flustered giggle, not expecting it to bring it up to her face so suddenly. “From him it felt malicious, from you it was a sweet compliment.” She explains, trying to put him at ease. He offers her his arm, a routine she had gotten used to in order for Moon to easily guide her through the dark room. She rests a hand on his forearm.

“I hope you have your best scary story prepared, I feel like this is going to be a tough crowd.” He jokes, smiling at her soft laughter.

“Oh, I'm bringing my A-game, I hope you can keep up.” She winks at him. Piper takes her seat, Moon greeting all of the children before plopping down at her side. The small circle was filled with giggling as Piper and Moondrop took turns telling their spooky stories. “The old woman pulled the blankets over her head as the intruder's footsteps thudded in the hallway, where is my tooooooeeeee.” She draws out the word in a ghostly tone, earning squeals and laughter from the group. Piper pauses to laugh herself for a moment. “She hears her bedroom door creak open.” She mocks the motion of opening a door as she lets out a high pitched creak of her own. “The footsteps walk up to her bed, the old woman lays there as silent as possible. You have it!” She suddenly exclaims, earning more squeals and screams from the group that quickly dissolves into giggles. She feels Moon’s hand bump into the side of hers, she can't stop the blush that immediately spreads across her cheeks as her eyes land on his expression of pure adoration. There was a knock at the door before it was opened up, a staff member alerting you that it was time for cake. The children rushed out of the room in an instant, Moon and Piper chuckled at their excitement. Moon stood, offering Piper his hand to help her up from the floor. His fingers remained wrapped around her hand for a few moments after she had stood, his thumb running over her knuckles before he dropped it, clearing his throat and mumbling out an apology. The pair slowly walk up to the door, enjoying their last few moments together before Moon has to go back to sleep for the rest of the day.

“If that guy ever bothers you again I want you to tell us, we’ll make sure he won't bother you anymore.” His eyes flicker over her face, memorizing every curve of her features.

“Moon?” He hums at the sound of her saying his name. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course you can starlight, anytime.” He smiles softly as he carefully pulls her into his arms. Piper holds him tightly, knowing this would probably be the last time she would see him today. “Go have fun, I'll see you soon.” He whispers, keeping an arm wrapped around her as he slowly brightens the lights. She hears Sun take over, he jolts slightly as he realizes he's holding her.

“Piper,” he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. “Did I hear right? It's time for cake?” She nodded, letting her arms finally slip from his waist.

“Cake just got brought in, then it's free play and we’re done.” She reiterates the rest of the schedule, knowing that sometimes when the two switch places they can get a bit frazzled.

“Let’s go have some cake then.” He places a large hand in between her shoulders as he leads her out into the main daycare, she squints slightly as her vision is assaulted by the bright colors as they leave the dimly lit room. The party room upstairs was somehow even more chaotic than the daycare on your busiest days. The cramped space was packed with children and parents alike, the kids running around at top speed, all hopped up on Fizzy-Faz and birthday cake. A little girl with braids ran up to her, hunching over slightly as she heaved from all the running.

“Miss Piper!” She yells cheerily. “We were wondering where you and Mr. Sun were!” She smiles at you. “Monty Gator’s here!” She juts a finger excitedly in his direction

“You should go say hello, I'm sure he'd love to meet you.” Piper responds with a grin of her own, trying to hide how nervous the new addition to the group was making you. The girl darts off, distracted by the swarm of her friends that had buzzed past her. Piper felt herself pale as she straightened up, realizing that Monty’s gaze was locked on her.

“Eli, it's time for presents!” You hear the birthday boy’s mom call. A smirk stretches across Monty’s features as he realized this was just the chance he needed to break away from the group to get you alone. All of the kids and parents gathered around one table as a staff member started bringing over all of his gifts.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is?” Her blood turns to ice in her veins at the sound of the deep voice that rumbles at her side. “What’s the matter sweetheart? I feel like I've been chasing you around the room all night.” He chuckles, taking another few steps closer to her. She shuffles to the side, keeping her eyes set straight forward on Eli.

“Monty, I'm trying to work.” She states flatly, knowing that wouldn't be enough to brush him off but she figured it wouldn't harm to try.

“So am I, I'm just making small talk with the newest staff member. Where's the harm in that?” She winces as he blows a hot puff of air from his nose against the side of her face. She hears the swishing of fabric, something grazes past her side but never fully touches her.

“Typical.” Monty scoffs. “Leave it to the birthday clown to always ruin my fun.” He growls. Piper finally dared to glance next to her, she caught sight of the familiar red and gold stripes and she realized that it was in fact Sundrop who had placed himself in between the pair.

“It doesn't seem like the situation is any fun if you're the only one enjoying yourself.” He snaps back.

“I don't know, I think Piper and I could be having a lot of fun if you hadn't gotten in the way.” Monty crosses his arms over his chest. Piper didn't miss the way Sun bounced his leg in agitation.

“Sunbeam, would you mind holding things down here with Brayden while I go have a chat with Monty.” Sun rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, nodding towards the staff member that looked bored enough to die.

“Sure, just be quick okay?” Her eyes darted between him and Monty nervously. Sun’s hands clenched into fists, the gator following him out into the hallway with a cocky smirk. The pair disappear into one of the other party rooms, leaving you to wonder just what exactly would happen now that they were out of the public eye.

Sundrop holds open the door for Monty, letting it slam shut behind him as he steps in the room. “It was you, wasn't it? You're the reason she was so upset this morning.” Sun jabs a finger in his direction. The two kept their distance from each other, standing on opposing sides of the room.

“Don't know what that little tart would be so upset about, I just gave her a compliment-”

“You made her uncomfortable is what you did.” Sun cuts him off, making the other animatronic snarl.

“What's the matter Sunny? Find a nice little piece of ass that can finally put up with your obnoxious personality and you suddenly want to play the hero, huh?” Monty chuckles.

“Don't call her that.” Sun responds through clenched teeth.

“And what are you going to do about it?” He laughs. “You gonna fight me for her? Make some big display about how you're a good guy who's going to take care of her?” Sun averts his eyes to the floor. Monty chuckles at his mannerisms, “pathetic, you can't even tell her, can you?” He starts to head towards the door, deciding he had enough of this conversation. “Just don't beat yourself up too bad when I inevitably win her over. A girl like that would look a hell of a lot better hanging off of my arm anyways.”

Piper’s head snapped in the direction of the loud slam against the wall from the next room, the party guests still too invested in Eli opening gifts to notice. She locks eyes with Brayden, nodding to the hallways and motioning she'd be right back. The first thing she heard as she exited the party room was the sound of two voices yelling at each other. She jogged to the room next door, peering into the window to see Monty and Sun grappling with each other, Sundrop at the obvious disadvantage. Piper slams against the door pushing into the room. “Well look who decided to show up.” Monty chuckles maliciously as he looks down at Sun.

“What a shame that your little girlfriend is going to have to watch me rip you apart limb from limb.” He snarls. Sun winds back his arm before his hand smashed against the side of Monty’s snout, leaving a pretty sizable dent in its wake. Piper screamed, slipping and slamming to the checkered tile floor as she scrambled for the phone. She rips the receiver off of the hook dialing the first number that popped into your head. Blood thundered in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of ringing as she prayed for an answer.

“Merry speaking, what can I-”

“They're fighting!” Piper yells into the phone, her voice cracking as she tries to fight back tears. “At the daycare! They're going to fucking kill each other!” She heard Merry slam down her phone as it went dead, no doubt rushing to try and minimize the damage. Piper couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene as she crawled backwards into the farthest corner from them, her whole body trembling. She watched in horror as Monty managed to grab Sundrop, lifting him clear from the floor before smashing him back down onto a table. He stands over Sun’s motionless form, grabbing him by the top of the head and hauling him to a sitting position.

“You need to remember your place, clown.” He sneers. “I'm at the top of the food chain in this place… Not… You.” Just before he had the chance to deliver a devastating blow to Sun’s head Merry burst through the door, rushing at Monty in order to tackle him to the ground. Luckily, at this point Brayden managed to quickly lead the guests to another location in the Pizzeria, leaving the rest of them to be the only ones left in the daycare. Merry seemed to have finally calmed down Monty enough to subdue him after a few minutes.

“Don't move a single muscle.” She warns, pointing down at him. “Piper, are you hurt?” She asks as she rushes over to Sun. Piper couldn't even respond, she just sat there staring at the animatronic who still wasn’t getting up. “Piper!” Merry tries again, a bit firmer this time. The redhead’s eyes snap to the blond, tears welling up in her waterline as the reality of what had just happened to her friend set in. Piper shakes her head softly, pulling her knees to her chest to make herself appear smaller. A wide eyed and breathless Brayden appeared in the door.

“How bad was it this time?” He starts, pausing and looking to the side when he catches a glimpse of Piper’s terrified form. “Are you proud of yourself?” He yells at Monty. Brayden shakes his head before cautiously approaching Piper. He kneels down a good distance in front of her. “Piper, why don't you come downstairs? We should get out of Merry’s way while she's working.” He speaks slowly, knowing it would take her a little longer to process what he was saying considering she seemed to be in a state of shock. Piper stands, slowly shuffling out of the room. She takes one last glance over at Sundrop. Merry had popped off a panel on the back of his head, a focused look adorning her features as she quickly works. The sight alone was enough to make Piper well up, tears sliding down her cheeks before she hurried from the room.

Piper laid on her side in the dark room, a pillow beneath her head and a blanket draped over her still shivering form as she stared straight ahead at the wall. Brayden had moved her down to the nap room, figuring it would be best if she didn't have to see him take Monty out of the room. She hears the soft creak of the large doors being pushed open, the opposing end of the room showing a thin sliver of light before the whole room is plunged into darkness again. Piper could make out the subtle whirs of Moon coming out, she resisted the urge to rush over to him and crush him in a hug. The last thing she needed right now was the embarrassment that would come from Moon seeing her cry. He lets out a sigh before his eyes scan around the room. He finds Piper curled up in a corner, facing away from him. His shoulders slump slightly at the sight of her, he never wanted to see her scared, the fact he was part of the reason almost made him want to leave without disturbing her.

“Piper?” He calls her name softly, taking careful steps in her direction. She sits up at his acknowledgement, the sound of her quiet sniffling made Moon’s chest hurt.

“Please tell me you're okay.” Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.

“We’re alright.” He reassures her softly. “Some dents and dings.” He moves a bit closer to her.

“I thought you were gone.” Her voice quivered as it filled the otherwise silent space. Moon paused as it finally set in. She wasn't upset, she was worried. She watches the two glowing red dots, the only indication as to where Moon was in the room at the moment, study her from their distant position.

“Monty knocked my power supply loose when he threw me on that table.” He explains. She drops her head to her knees, the wave of relief that washed over her making her emotional all over again. This time, Moon didn't hesitate. His feet started to move before he even had a chance to process what he was doing. He sank to the floor, wrapping his long, slender arms around Piper. “I got you, Starlight. Let it out.” Piper didn't know how long she had been crying but she felt utterly wiped out by the end of it. The whole time Moon just held her, running a hand soothingly up and down her back. Moon gently takes her chin between his fingers, running his thumb over her damp cheek to wipe away any remaining tears.

“So I guess you probably figured out that he was the reason I was so off today.” She whispers, her forehead still resting against his chest. She didn't have it in her to meet his eyes with the state she was in right now. “I'm sorry.”

“What did you say to me this morning? Why are you apologizing for something you didn't do?” He cradles the back of her head gently for a moment, wanting her to know it was okay if she stayed like that, before retracting the appendage.

“Yeah, but you got hurt because of me.” She sniffles.

“Piper, I wouldn't change a single thing that happened to me today. Sure, Monty roughed me up a little, that oversized gecko only thinks with his biceps anyways.” The joke earned a weak chuckle from her. “There's never going to be a time where I'm not going to defend you with everything I have. I can be fixed. What matters to me is that you're okay, and that you know there's someone who's going to do their best to take care of you.” Moon nervously glances down at her, he sucks in a sharp breath when her pretty blue eyes meet his. “We care about you, Piper.” Her heart races in her chest at his words, she wouldn't be surprised if Moon could hear it beating.

The door is suddenly shoved open, Moon’s face spins around as Sundrop’s familiar golden points fold out. Piper’s eyes immediately land on the massive crater on his temple, Sun quickly lifts his hand in a failed attempt to hide it from her view. “Look at me, I'm okay.” Sun reassures her with a patient smile. Piper nods in response, trying her best to appear braver than she felt.

“Alright, let's get you all situated. You have a real mean left hook by the way.” Merry chuckles as she walks in the room, rifling through her tool box. She freezes when her eyes land on Piper’s puffy red eyes. “I'm going to kick the shit out of Monty for you personally.” She points at her, making Piper laugh.

“Is it okay if I stay while you work on him?” She asks softly. Merry notices Sun give her a small nod. Seeing the way Piper still clung to him, like he would disappear if she let him out of her sight.

“Sure thing, kid.”

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @twelvelevens @zalladane

[justalittlebeekeeper]

All Tumblr Days Of The Week I Have Seen

A while ago I started making a compilation (without links unfortunately, because I am lazy) of all the Tumblr Days of the Week I have seen cross my dash, because I think it's silly and interesting and I wanted to catalog it. I didn't have any intention of sharing it, but I realized it had gotten pretty long, and who knows, maybe someone else would be interested. So, without further ado, in the order of the week:

Stupid fucking slut Sunday

Fingers in his ass Sunday

Six sentence Sunday

Suck her silly Sunday

Jungle Sunday

Shawty like a melody Sunday

Swipe him Sunday

Break stuff Sunday

Girlbulge Sunday

Polar bear Sunday

Sluggish Sunday

Somebody Else Is Gonna Have To Do It Sunday

Send me on my way Sunday

Smooch Shark Sunday

Smooth Shark Sunday

Yes Snakes Sunday

Al Pacino girl look at that rat Sunday

Kiss your mutual Monday

Sad ant with a bindle Monday

Exploding money Monday

Let's get it on cunts Monday

Maim him Monday

Sparkle on it's Wednesday Monday

We're just normal men Wednesday Monday

The missile knows where it is Monday

ps5 brain Monday

Mimir Monday

Bare Minimum Monday

Simply don't Monday

Me if I was lobsta🦞 Monday

Mole interest Monday

Safe to leave the bog Tuesday

Twelve bricks Tuesday

I thought it was Wednesday Tuesday

Tuesday light me up

End of my rope Tuesday

Wednesday is tomorrow innit Tuesday

Funky fellow Tuesday

Trash him Tuesday

Meeting on the turret stairs Tuesday

Turn off Tumblr Live Tuesday

Tired Tuesday

Trying Not To Feel Doomed Tuesday

Too Tired to Care Tuesday

tdick Tuesday

Unethical science Tuesday

Toss him Tuesday (one piece)

No Snakes Tuesday

Tuesday again? No Problem

Toasting him Tuesday

Tumblr Tuesday: National Nothing Day (by staff)

You rockin with time theft tuesday?!

This thing Tuesday

Tuck him in Tuesday

Wedical Wystery Wednesday

White Boy Wednesday

WIP Wednesday

Wet Beast Wednesday

Wob Wednesday (mp100)

End of my rope tuesday Wednesday

Wednesday Wednesday (Addams family)

It's Wednesday or as I like to call it Thursday

WAAAAAAAAAAA Wednesday (mp100)

Whoop him Wednesday

The massive "It is Wednesday" post

El woowoo Wednesday

It's Wednesday, or as I like to call it, the Ides of March

Weary Wednesday

Whatever I can get away with Wednesday

Wet rat Wednesday

We're just normal men Wednesday

Woodcock Wednesday

White Girl Wednesday

Remembering the passage of time Wednesday

Do it weird Wednesday

Dry beast Wednesday

Bigweld Wednesday

Weevil Wednesday

Its Comes Fucks Me Wednesday

Out of Touch Thursday

Thottie Thursday, or as I like to call it, Sunday

Lord Foog the 2st Thursday

Present Mic's concave ass Thursday (bnha)

We put the they in them Thursday

Thumping him Thursday

Out of touch Touya Thursday (bnha)

Unlimited brutality 5 for $5 on Thursdays

Onto better things Thursday

Tuckered out Thursday

This job sucks Thursday

Fire Gator Thursday

Very specific archive Thursday

Flat fuck Friday

Thank Gnome it's Friday

Frankie Friday (one piece fandom)

Bean Hole Bfriday

Flatworm Friday

Fuck him on the forest floor Friday

Fuck your mutual from behind Friday

Frilled shark Friday

Fuck him up Friday

Bully your mutuals Friday

Big Dumb Idiot Baby Apple Fight Friday

Electric phallus Friday

Faint Friday

Fat fuck Friday

Fuck it Friday

Lesbian Friday

Frigate friggin' Friday

Street fighter fuck her from behind Friday

Stroganoff Saturday

Slapping him Saturday

Sad slav Saturday

Snoozy Saturday

Say on my ass Saturday

Dragon Saturday

Sludge Saturday Baby

Small joys Saturday

Beat the shit out of him Saturday

Saturday shorts

Bonuses:

Penisula thurtueswednesday

happy woke up thinking it was wednesday sunday but it was actually fucking friday tuesday

[naanima]

Oh, dear Ratboy. I really like it when he does long podcasts. It helps that he can communicate. Interview starts around the 1h.11sec mark. Dot points things of interest:

He has finished moving from Calgary completely, doesn't even have winter clothes anymore. LOLs.

When he first arrived in Florida he was happy to take a backseat, but the team wanted him to get involved in the leadership group.

He really loves living in Florida.

VGK was the best team they played. Boston & Vegas were very similar. Talks about how Boston slapped them during two of the regular season games, but they played really well against them for the other two games. And that's why he had the belief they could win. OMFG. He fucked up by jumping on the ice and got the penalty LOLs. It was all his fault.

He thinks players who come through in OT etc are the ones who want the puck on their stick. Good or bad they will need to be able to live it.

His dad always preached live in front of the net. Take some physical abuse in the games, earn it to score. Can't get your stick tied up. He learns a lot from Brady when it comes to spinning it off and getting it into the net. Watches every one of Brady's games.

When he switched to the Right Wing he watched a lot of vids of good right wing players.

Evolved as a player year to year. Same mindset as when he was a kid, "screw you I'm getting that puck." Paul gets on him when he gets into a bit of a shoving match on ice with guys he shouldn't. LOLS.

Offseason - earlier was PT, playing catch-up in strength, conditioning wise more cardio in the hopes to play more mins and faster. He feels he is better prepared this season. He is back to 100%.

Microphones on ice - good for the game. NHL gotta do a better job. It is evolving more via the players and teams. Players don't like it too much bcos they would feel like walking on eggshells. If it is used properly it can grow the game.

Wedding vids - makes athletes look crazier than they are.

Media/SocMed blowing things up. Keith talking about his team being "soft' - he was pissed bcos of how it got blown up. They had a chance to be in the playoffs and then they lost four games in a row. Ouch.

His current health - "Everything feels great." He didn't realise he broke his sternum, he thought maybe a collarbone, it wasn't how hard the hit was, it was the spot. He had to leave the game bcos he had to do concussion protocol. Game 3 didn't really hit him how bad he was. After the game he was not feeling great. Drove home that night with a sling, probably shouldn't have done that. The next morning he couldn't get out of bed. The day after he had to call Brady to help him get up, he couldn't even remember if he had a shower. LOLs. During one of the scrums he couldn't even really grab people's jerseys.

Getting into fights etc. Not that they want to get into a fight, it is more that they just hate losing. LOLs.

Sticking Jonathan Quick - doesn't know what happened, he has no excuses. He is not a fan of goalies that play out of their creases.

Buddies with Auston Matthews & other hockey players. It is the game. He would run almost everybody... except Brady for a lot of reasons, one of them being Brady would take him down. Lols.

Olympics & World's etc - a shame that they can't play together. It is sad. His first dream is to win a Stanley Cup, and then to win for the US with his brother.

Right now - being down in Florida outside; jetskis etc. Not going to buy a boat. Love hanging out with his family and friends. He used to not like the beach at all, but now he is there all the time. He is not into nice cars. Only into golf and stuff on the waters. No gators close to his house, they are close to the rink (wtf).

Him changing team - talked to Calgary that he wasn't gonna sign a long-term contract, worked together with the team, and with permission he had one week to talk to a handful of teams. Came down to Carolina, St Louis' and Florida. He just wanted to learn everything he could before he made the decision.

Going back to Florida in a few days.

Taryn is doing great, was injured last year/season and when she came back she was great.

Invited to 6 weddings, attended 4.

Jack Eichel - his hit. Haven't seen the video.

Fav goal in the playoffs - when Cousins scores. The Carolina one.

Barky is so chill, he thinks Barky is the best player he ever played with/seen. Loves watching Barky playing, during training he learns from him.

Scoring between his legs, his dad was pissed. LOLs. He used to do a lot of trick stuff, flipping his picks etc. He remembers watching Kane and Crosby doing it when he was growing up.

He will chat with his dad after games, and nowadays his dad trusts him.

He thinks Brady is great, a great scorer. Brady's goal is to get the team into the playoffs. Ottawa loves Brady, he is a god there. They treat him and his family well bcos of Brady.

His parents come to Taryn, Brady and his games etc.

It is fascinating to me that Matthew is so very much, "I did this", 'it is my fault", "we didn't play well enough", "the other team is better" etc.

I typed this as I was listening to this so there will be mistakes. LOLs.