#but yeah gator is a little bitch

[wroteclassicaly]

Girl. Gator. Plus size girl. Blurb. Go!

Lol. I just love the way you utilize details and I need this mans hands on me in the worst way rn. Lol. MAYBE somewhere where we could get caught😈

Oooooh, you’re speaking right to my soul 😭

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, Gator acts like his jerky, bitchy, temper tantrum throwing, misogynistic, toxic self. Body positive, plus size reader with large breasts, hidden hookups, spit, some titty play, vaginal fingering, jealous and possessive Gator, slightly mean reader, degrading kink, praise kink mention, filthy talk, mean Gator, dominant reader/dominant Gator, public smut, getting caught, and NSFW.

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus Size Female Reader

Wordcount: 2,043

A/N: Really love working on exploring Gator with a bigger girlie, because in the Midwest, his options would’ve been a lot of big women. Sooooo, yeah. ;) Note that this is not some fluffy Gator. Man is gonna be mean and nasty as hell, so be warned (he’s cornered with his feelings and he doesn’t like that shit)!

~*~

He really cannot fucking believe this. You actually have the nerve to show up where you know that he will be, dressed like this, acting as if you didn’t want him to call you the second that you got back into town (Because WHEN the fuck did you get back? And why didn’t you call him?). A calloused trigger finger massaged off leftover condensation, nothing but mere drops of amber liquid left over in his glass. He feels like a snarling, raging beast, a fucking embarrassment.

And you simply tuck your handbag into your armpit, situating the end of a very tight black dress, one that slices into a cutoff at your cleavage, the swells of your goods leaving little to the imagination. Stupid bitch. Those are his tits. Besides, since when do you care about what you wear out when you rarely come to bars or club joints around town, anyways…? Your makeup is dark, like wafts of smoke, shimmering on your lid, lips lined a deep blood red, something else you never do around him, either.

Okay, so he’s not good enough to try all of your tricks on?

He’s got that familiar clench starting in his toes, licking his muscles with electricity, pushing on his ribcage, digging painfully into his internal organs to do something. You wave at a couple of local girls, but you don’t join them at a table, no. You head directly to some punk faced fuck in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other. Gator’s eyes widen so hard that the muscles protest in stroking stings, his fist clenching over his thigh, knuckles white, taunt flesh wrapped shakily around his glass. He lets it go before it shatters.

A date. A fucking, motherfucking date.

You couldn’t call him, didn’t text him (embarrassing how much he refreshed your thread, honestly), but you bitch about secrecy. And this is what he gets for staying sober from the pussy he could be getting? Nah, he’s not gonna be shown up by some slut that should be grateful he gives her attention at all, and definitely not with this fucking pencil dick of a man, whose joke you’re pathetically giggling at. Abandoning his glass, Gator is walking his way on a sticky bar floor, passing your backside to slam his hands on your table and let out a hysterical chuckle.

“Well, bust my balls. What’s so funny over here, huh?”

Gator takes a mental backflip for points as your eyes widen and you look like you’ve dove into the pools of humiliation. Your date, for lack of better word - he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, but Gator doesn’t let him get in a word. Crowding in front of his space, he’s in your airspace now, reaching down to find your date’s drink, lips wrapping at the bottle’s end as he sips and lets out a snort. “Lightweight.”

“Gator…” You warn, reaching out to attempt to grab his wrist. He shrugs you off, shaking his head as he eyes your ensemble, those fucking tits pressed together and spilling over your cleavage’s hem.

“Look at you, honey. All dressed up, not answering your phone. How long you been back for?”

“I’m busy, back the fuck off —“ He’s suddenly very close to you now, nose nearly brushing, actually letting his personal rules slip, your own emotions becoming discombobulated.

You don’t back away, breathing escalating as his hot breath fans along your painted mouth. He’d like to shut that up, keep you full. And you, you cannot keep your eyes off of his tight black shirt, arms bare and tan from the Midwest summer sun — freckles and moles on display. He’s wearing dark jeans, his normal boots, and thigh holster for show. Fuck, he smells good. He knows it too, as he watches your eyes dart across his wet lips.

He simply smirks, reaches down for your drink this time, and brings it to his lips. Straight whiskey. You were here for a purpose, and it’s up to him to redirect it. You watch in wondrous fascination when he drinks down your remaining liquor in a straight shot, his tongue making a show to lick the rim along the glass, before he lets it settle back onto the cheap bar table coaster. He’s taking that air about, every single inch of him away from you before you can blink, one hand rubbing behind his neck, pulling on his chain that’s tucked beneath his collar, knowing the action specifically drives you crazy, the other hand retrieving his vape.

He blows smoke directly above his head, looking between you and Mr. Clueless Cowboy, laughing lightly. He’s pissing you off. “Hope you folks intend to call a car tonight. I’d hate to have to arrest anyone for driving under the influence.”

And he’s gone. Leaving you practically smoking, aching, hurt, and severely pissed. You grab your purse and excuse yourself to the restroom to get your bearings. You should’ve known, however, the second that the door closes behind you — Gator would be too. He doesn’t approach too fast, doesn’t scare you or grab you, he has his own lines not to cross, to respect.

You’re clenching the sink by the time he’s nearly behind you. You’re tired, pent up, but you still manage to speak. “Don’t. I’m getting sick of you and your games.”

“Is that why you didn’t answer me? Think that’s polite —“

You spin around and level your palms to his chest, shoving him back, hard. “You know, I’m the one that should be embarrassed. Your fucking dad, you being his lackey. I should be the one to be afraid to be seen with you, but I’m not.”

Gator perks at the mention of Roy, of his debt towards him just by being born under his namesake. He feels cornered, losing control. “Watch your mouth. I’m not afraid of anything —“

As if you are ignoring his words, you continue. “I want a real man, not some pussy who is afraid to be seen in public with me. You’re a fucking coward, Tillman. You don’t deserve one single inch of me, and I’ve got plenty to go around, baby.”

Now, Gator can lie and say he is further pissed, that he intends to leave and forget you. But your words, how you stand up to him — his cock kicks, slacks becoming less loose. You’ve got the power and you’re more than ready to use it. Leaving your purse in the sink behind you, you stand a few inches from his airspace, your perfume soaking into his senses, making his jaw unhinged with sinful babble. “I bet you’re fuckin’ wet right now.”

You shrug, crossing your arms to purposely accentuate your chest. “Just because I like looking at you, doesn’t mean that I like listening to your mouth run. Pompous, annoying, disgustingly pathetic. And I can’t stand you.”

His brows press together, his pupils blown so far to hell that he’s seething when the words leave his clenched teeth. “One more word, bitch…”

You lick your mouth and smile lowly, tongue practically caressing the words as they drop off. “Fuck. You.”

What happens next is a dizzying array of blurs. The open pipes and exposed beams - clad ceiling passes in your vision as you meet Gator into a chest crushing embrace, pulling when he pushes, the both of you falling onto a stall with your mouths locked. You’re already working your hands into his belt, a grip hard to maintain with how worked up he is. Gator knows just what to do with you, his own hands immediately ripping the fabric of your dress down to expose your perfect breasts. His mouth waters, his hands paused.

He gives you a look, but you’ve already got his hands closing around your tits, encouraging him to squeeze. His knees knock you into the toilet, his mouth smeared with red kisses. His jaw clenches, nose wrinkles, his eyes glazed over as he lets them roam you, palming you, sampling you. You’re his. He needs more, though, his body rampaged, starved for more you.

You can read those thoughts immediately, the same want, a silent communication. “Put your mouth on me.”

He doesn’t waste a second, head tilting, letting you tug it into shambled strands, his lips close over your bud, tongue lapping around your areola, only to give you what you after you start to beg him for teasing. He isn’t phased that you aren’t jerking him, all that he wants right now is get you off, be with you, be around you. He tries to ignore what that realization means, and luckily, you’re rucking your own dress around your waist, his orbs catching a slinky thong as you work it down your curved hips. He briefly stops what he’s doing, groaning in appreciation as your glistening curls are put on display and your beautiful stomach, with stretch marks that his tongue has traced not enough times yet. He’ll have to fix that.

You’re a little quieter after you’re so naked in front of you, despite having been before. He notices this and abandons his focus on your chest to grab you around the waist. His voice is hoarse, exploding into a molten rasp, coated in the warmth of tension, a vulnerability leaving as he pinches your chin to raise your gaze. “You’re too beautiful for him. Too beautiful for me.”

Your reluctance to accept any compliments, especially his, that is automatically clear when you make your statement. “You could’ve gotten plenty pussy with me gone, Gator.”

He’s never felt more like a piece of shit than in this moment, watching as you truly believe that. He inhales sharply, throat tied to it, escaping words evaporating off his tongue’s tip, shared with you. “I missed you,” It’s actually a freeing statement, one that he feels braver saying, continuing. “And I didn’t screw around on you, y’ know.”

You’re looking at him as if you’re made of glass, irises darting back and forth. He can’t decipher his anticipations, but you save him. “I missed you too. But I had to draw a line, Gator…”

“I know.” He’s resolved to it.

He’s ready to back off, praying it’s not too late. You grasp his wrist, lifting it directly beneath your mouth, and he’s sure he blurts a little in his boxers the moment that your spit settles into his palm. He’s cursing, panting, rocking onto his heels as you lead him between your legs, spreading them, separating two of his fingers, taking them into your warm cunt. His hand tightens on your overflowing waist, fingers instinctively beginning to fuck you, enjoying the devious squelch that echoes. You become more handsy as the minutes pass, eagerly seeking out his chain from his collar to hold onto, rocking against his wrist, bouncing yourself on his fingers — taking what you want.

Gator assists by leaning to lick your nipple into his mouth, letting you hold tightly to his hair, suffocated by your moans and the scent of you. Neither of you hear your date enter the bathroom, not until he’s by the stall and speaking. He doesn’t get the hint, maybe he’ll go away? You don’t want to stop and reject the idea of Gator taking his hand away, leaving his hair, and holding onto his wrist tighter. You give zero fucks if he can hear what you’re doing in here, but he probably thinks Gator makes fun of you —

Your insecurities are tangled into a trap the second that Gator kicks the door open with his boot to give your date an eyeful. Publicly. His eyes widen, posture stiffening, you gasping. Gator adds in a third finger and your legs wobble, making you toss your head back and fuck yourself harder, inner thighs a soaking mess, forgetting everything but the pleasure that you deserve. Your ears are ringing static, a creamy wetness all that can be heard beneath your pleading breaths, uncaring what’s going to happen after, needing to get there NOW.

Gator makes his claim, a lazy little smirk quirking in the corners of his stained mouth. “Be safe on the road, bud.”

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Return'

Doug and I have made up for our disagreement regarding Montana. I did not, in fact, go to his St Patrick's Day party (due to the fact I was busy with my daughter's Scout pack being in the parade), but we bonded over the insane weather in our region recently.

He had a lot of strong opinions on this, and it was a little scattered. Kind of like most TV shows, I guess.

CW: Doug Doug's on and continues to have Feelings about Certain Geographic Locations. Enjoy!

---------------------------------

Episode 4: “Redneck Family Bonding”

You know how I know them clone boys is from Florida?

Because the show opens to Little Orphan Blonde sleeping in their busted work van wearing a puka shell necklace while her brother Daddy Warcrimes is shooting fruit on the beach all while their adopted mutant dog chases critters away from the trash can.

Yup. Average day in Florida. 

Of course Daddy Rambo is sitting on the ledge, watching Daddy Warcrimes and mumbling to himself. Do you think he peeps on the neighbors in the other part of Space Daytona? He totally does. Daddy Rambo, you need a girlfriend, make that fruity robot wear a skirt and take it out on a date or something. 

Hell YEAH, my boy Toaster Strudel is BACK! Look at him hugging everyone. Good man. Love him. Why is Daddy Warcrimes still wearing that fisherman sweater, is it St. Patrick’s Day still? Where’s Rex? Oh well. 

And they’re chilling out on Hoops’s porch, chugging the man’s liquor and eating his sushi. I would, too. Oh man, they’re referencing Ryan-from-Accounting. I’m sad now. Where’s Church Lady? Probably realized she was too good for Ryan-from-Accounting, or maybe she found his bitch wife Laura and now they wine buddies. I guess. 

Aw, Mutant Jimmers is friends with the monkeys. God damn, I love Mutant Jimmers. 

No one can hack into the iPad Little Orphan Blondie took from her internship at the Museum of Science and Industry. Little Orphan Blondie’s a kid, make the kid do it! All kids know how iPads work! 

They still kept Daddy Warcrimes’s armor with the Georgia colors and the skulls! And that’s why Daddy Rambo won’t look at him–look at Daddy Rambo’s colors, man’s a Gator fan and the SEC decides everything now don’t it. 

So…they’re going back to Space Wyoming? Oh man, I remember this dump. I hope they threw THAT BLOND JACKASS’S body in a dumpster and let the bears eat it. 

Back to the walk-in refrigerator where Daddy Warcrimes hung out with….oh. Oh. Sassy Park Ranger. Oh. But hey they found an ATM! How else are they gonna buy weed out here? 

You know it’s a redneck family vacation because someone’s gotta get out of the trailer and turn on the circuit breaker cause there’s no power and they gotta watch the Saints play. At least they ain’t hot wiring the HMS Search Warrant to power shit up. Actually, it would be great if they did–that’s some redneck engineering right there and it’s good bonding for those angry boys. 

Oh the daddy fight! Daddy Warcrimes and Daddy Rambo need the therapy and they ain’t gonna get it so they gonna do what rednecks do when they upset and need to talk…go outside the trailer and scream and shove each other while the dog barks at everything. Someone needs to trip on a rusty rake now. I feel like I’m watching my own family on Christmas.

Of course, turning off the power means the critters are coming! Is it gonna be a snow gator? No? Oh man it’s one of them worms from that sand movie that Bobbie Lee keeps talking about! 

Go go Daddy Warcrimes go! Save Daddy Rambo! 

Once again, they rednecks, because nothing solves a problem like shooting a gun repeatedly into the ground. Don’t none of these folks have a taser? Some bear mace? Come on, there’s a Wal Mart on Space Daytona I know there is. 

Mutant Jimmers is helping everyone out! Go Mutant Jimmers go! When does Mutant Jimmers get her own show? 

Toaster Strudel bitching at everyone as he gonna do. I agree Toaster Strudel, I agree. 

Man look at Little Orphan Blondie go and there’s Julio doing all the work while being chased by the snow critter. Why does every animal on earth wanna mate with Julio I swear to God. 

And they turned the power back on and boom no more critter chasing. This is the most redneck show I swear I’m watching a show about my idiot brother in law and his friends in Wyoming. 

Nothing brings the family together like going out to an abandoned trailer, searching for the power, shooting guns, getting chased by critters and a screaming shove-fight outside while the dog chases a big-assed animal away from the garbage. Yup. Space rednecks. They all need NASCAR shirts. 

Well, they got the iPad working again….back to Space Florida! And they all getting along.

Meat Muffin, why did this episode make me so happy?

Tagging Doug's fans because yes: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

[that-one-random-writer]

That's My Kind Of Night Chapter 3 *Mature 18+*

|Complete|

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader

*Rough!Jake* *Protective!Jake* *Shower scene!Jake* *little bit fluff!Jake* just all of the Jake

Summary: Jake takes leave and goes back to Texas. His friend is now married with a woman. This woman's friend gets under his skin, and he loves it. Word count: 3,439

Warnings: cussin', flirtin', heavy banter, guns, party with alcohol, Straight Smut 18+ for sure, a different party man that is too touchy.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Southern Masterlist

Jake looked back through the window, Blake leaned against his ax. "I think that's enough. So Jake..." He trailed. "You know my wife is trying to set you up with Honeybee."

Jake glanced back at Blake after chopping the last piece of wood. "Yeah, your old lady isn't exactly stealthy." He chuckled, leaning against his own ax.

Blake laughed, "Yeah, she's about as subtle as a frieght train."

"I've seen you two sneaking around keeping up with what we were doing." He smiled up at Blake.

"You got them trained eyes, don't you?" He chuckled nervously.

Jake nodded. "Well, yeah, when I'm in the air, I have too." He picked up his ax and put it away.

Blake smirked up at Jake. "So what do you think? Spitfire, ain't she?"

Jake chuckled, "You're scheming with your woman. You'd better be careful, Blake." He paused, shifting his eyes back to the window and then back to blake. "She's definitely a firecracker."

The party begins, and the new and old friends are all showing up. Big boy toys are being taken off trailers and put into the water or on the muddy tracks. Four-wheelers, gators, and dirt bikes are being raced around the trails. Poles are in the water, from boats and on the dock, pulling up catfish, brim, and bass saved to be cooked in the fire later.

Jake sat on the diamond plated tailgate of his truck. Unfortunately for all the women he had threw his shirt back on when people were arriving. He raised his beer as he saw one of his buddies reel in a huge catfish. "Hell yeah, Florence. That's a nice size cat!" Florence, an old buddy waved in appreciation and held the fish up.

Jake took a sip of his beer. He looked towards the shooting range. You stood there with a double barrel shot gun laid against your shoulder lined up for the target. You had on the same muddy pants, only teasing him with holes to show your legs underneath. Your top had changed. It was a tiny black tanktop that dipped low enough it showed your lacy, black bra underneath. There was fringe that fell around your breasts. The fringe stopped where the shirt cut off just below your bra line. He watched your arms as you held the gun. Your sun-kissed skin teased him under the sinking sun. You took your shot, the knock back was there, but nothing you couldn't take. Jake had to admit. He was impressed.

You stood there reloading your weapon. You felt a hand reach to your back and down to your hips. You felt uneasy and folded the gun back together slowly, not being able to load the barrels. You could smell hard liquor on this man's breath. "You look real cute, babe. Do you want me to show you how to use this thing?"

"Get the fuck off of me." You were rough with your words. You pulled away from him and he tried once again to put his hands around you. "I said, get the fuck off of me!" You jerked away turning towards him and kicked faster then he could react due to the intoxication. Your boot connected with the bare flesh on his stomach. He was knocked back and on the ground.

He started to get back. His world spinning around, and it showed as he struggled to get back up.

"You fucking bitch." He screamed. You could see people gathering, one person walked up calmly. He made his way in front of you. You could tell by the cocky walk, the tight ass in his jeans and the bulk in his arms who it was. Jake stood tall in front of the man. "Look what we have here. Dustin Jones, as I live a breathe. Looks like you've done well for yourself. You look great man. I love the missing tooth. Was it the meth or did you just pick the wrong woman to fuck with and she knock it out for you?"

Against Dustin's better judgement, he finally made it to his feet and ripped his fist at Jake's face. Jake caught it in his palm and twisted just enough to make a statement shoving him back to the ground. "Let's face it Dustin, you weren't shit back then and you still ain't shit now." His voice held power, it was slow, deep, smooth. His voice never broke and never faltered. His voice never raised above a talking tone. "I suggest you get on outta here before you get yourself hurt." The group that brought Dustin as an acquaintance grabbed him and dragged him out of view. They were loading his flailing body into a car.

"I'm gonna whoop your ass, Jake!" His voice then got quiet, a car door shutting in his face. The crowd cheered and continued their activities from before.

"I could've handled him." You directed your attention back to the gun in your hand. You hit the release for the break action and quickly replaced two shells. With a quick flick of your wrist you folded the gun back up ready to fire. Jake watched you maneuver the gun with ease, it was hot to see you handle such a powerful weapon. "That's a strange way to say 'thank you'." He watched you shoot both targets and hand the gun back to Damien.

You started walking away from Jake. He followed behind you. "I didnt ask for your help." Jake smirked down as you both stopped.

"You don't have to." He was so reassuring. You almost felt like you could rely on him. A certain level of trust was building around the walls that guarded you. "Thanks, Jake."

You spoke softly.

Jake lifted his brow and his laugh lines lifted with a smirk. "Anytime, Honey"

"Bee." You finished. He had dropped the bee in your nickname, the sting had vanished in your tone of voice so the 'bee' should vanish for him too. "How about we get on the gator? I tell you what..." He trailed. His face softened. "You can drive." He wrapped his arm around your waist and he led you to the track.

The truth was you had decided to give him the chance you promised Vanny. As much as you hate it she was right. He needed a chance in fighting hell, and if you didn't open up at least a little then there was no way you could convince her you at least tried.

He let go of your waist walking to the other side and sitting on the passenger side. "How many times have you been here at the lake house property?" He looked over at you while you turned the key starting it up. You turned on the headlights with it being so close for the moon to start its rise.

"More then I can count in the six years Blake and Van have been together, why?" You shifted to drive, you accelerated and chose the trails at random. "Take me to your favorite place here. You have to have one. I do." He leaned back in his seat while you thought about your favorite place.

You changed course and took the trails. "Why did you join the navy?" Your genuine question took him by surprise. He was expecting your attitude to come back just as fast as it disappeared. "It's been something I wanted to do for as long as I can remember. My family has a military background, and I like the look in peoples eyes when they see me in uniform. The military has its risks, but also has its perks. What about you? Why did you want to be a stylist?"

"I like brightening someone's day. I have women and men come in, their day, week, month even year is absolute shit. They sit in my chair and walk out happier feeling more confident then they did when they walked in." Jake leaned his arm over the seat behind you.

"You've definitely got plenty of confidence to go around." He chuckled. You slapped his leg softly with one hand on the wheel. "You're one to talk." He continued while laughing. "Damn right have you seen me?" You rolled your eyes. "Yeah I have. I see a cocky, arrogant, smoking hot ken doll with a vanity problem" He flashed an award winning smile.

"You think I'm smoking hot?" You glanced at him then turned down another trail. "I'm not saying it again. Your ego is big enough with me saying it once."

"Oh come on, just say it one more time. I'll tell you what I think." You were honestly curious. You weren't insecure. You had your flaws of course, but you knew you had some features that were desired. One great thing that came out of aging is realizing that rule 34 in porn applied to people, too. Someone out there would always find you beautiful, no matter your shape or size. It saved your confidence a lot. You might not be one man's cup of sweet tea, but another would drink you to the last drop happily.

"Jake, you know that you're smoking hot, I don't need to say it." He wrapped his arm around you.

"Yeah, but it sounds so much better coming from a gorgeous woman."

Your Eyebrow raised. "Is that what you think of me, Im gorgeous?"

"Yes. I can't tell you all that I think. It's filthy in there..." You laughed, he reciprocated your laugh with his own. "The mud honey. I've only seen you covered like you just got done taking your four-wheeler out for mud bogging."

"Good thing you asked me to take you to my favorite place..." you trailed as you pulled up to the river that feeds into the lake. There was a sizable waterfall ahead.

"You can't take this one. This is my favorite place." He said, looking up at the water falling. His eyes followed the water pattern.

"Shut up and come on." He looked back at you. His eyes widened. Your shirt was already on the seat. Your lacy bra was squeezing your chest in all the right ways. You unbuttoned your pants and shaked them down your legs. Jake would pay all the money in the world for you to do that again, just this time he wanted to be behind you.

He didn't question you. He just followed your lead. "You are wild, honey bee. I'll give you that." You grabbed the eco soap from your purse.

"I always come here and take a shower in the water. I was going to do it when everyone went to bed tonight, but it's going to be a little harder sneaking out this time..." you trailed unsure if Jake knew the two of you were sharing a room in the cabin. You continued "normally, I dont have anything on but youre not getting a full show." He pulled his shirt over his head.

"You are wild." He was lost for word, speaking the same sentence again. He continued trying to find the right words to say. He loved this embodiment of pure freedom you seemed to have. He just couldn't find a way to tell you how much he liked that about you. He took off his clothes leaving his boxers. You took a heavy flashlight and set it on the hood of the gator. It shined like a spotlight on the water flowing off the mountain. You made your way to the flat rock that created a nice floor and stood under the water.

Jake stopped watching as the water flowed down your hair and skin. Each drop of water seemed to be slow motion. Your lips spilt into a gasp as the cool water teased your neck. You lifted your hair drenching it in the liquid. Jakes eyes trailed down your body. He wanted to soak up every inch in fear that it was the only time he would see it. His eyes connected to your ass as you turned your chest to the water. He realized you were wearing a g string. He couldn't stop the bulge from forming. His hands begging to give the swelling some relief. You turned back towards him. "You gettin' in or are you just gonna stand there in your boxers and watch?" The bubbles forming around your body with the soap being added.

He honestly thought about just taking the show. Jake decided a shower with a hottie in a waterfall would be some story worth telling the boys when he got back home. He walked up to the flat rock and the water cooled his skin.

You watched as the water hit his back. You traced down each muscle with your eyes. Your gaze peeked down to his boxers. You giggled. "God malibu. Your boxers are screaming 'Barbie'." He looked down while adding soap to his body. His pink boxers had palm trees speckled across them. He met your eyes.

"You checking me out?" Your eyes traveled down his strong legs. Then, back to his eyes.

"I'm just making sure you know what you're doing." You spoke softly.

He smirked. "You used that one already." He looked down at you, watching your eyes. You looked back down his body and noticed the growth in his palm trees.

"Oh, I know." You weren't focused out your words. You were focused on the sex appeal of this dream man. It had been so long since you've been touched. You could feel the warmth stirring between your legs. You wanted to hear him say your name in the dirtiest ways, forcing you into positions where you were most vulnerable, you wanted to smell his chemistry mix with yours, you could almost feel his fingers teasing your clit making you beg to cum. You broke from the daze. He was so close to you. His lips were inches from yours. You had been pulling like gravity closer to him, lost in the thought of his sex. If you just take this step. You know you won't turn back. You could feel his throbbing erection where his hand was in your daze. It had pressed perfectly against your clit. You moaned so softly. Just one step. Just one more move, and this could be it. "Jake I, I-" you shuddered as he stepped closer, his member pressing harder against your sensitivity. You wanted this so badly.

"You're driving this time, remember, you tell me where I'm going." He stated so simply.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I'm not the type to just sleep around." He stood still fighting off every nerve in his body.

"What if after tonight we go out on a date, just you and me?" You looked down at his lips looking for the lie, looking for the truth, looking for anything to tell you what his intentions were. Your hips jerked slightly as you tried to fight the urge yourself. You let out another moan as he rubbed unintentionally against your aching body.

"Then what? I move to California? Thats not realistic. I have a life here and we just met." He grabbed your hands pulling them to his chest holding them delicately.

"I have a month here, if you take a month's vacation, you can fly home with me. See how you like California. Ill pay for your expenses. You can run a business out of state. You can build a new life in California. You're free. We dont have to do anything tonight. Just say yes to a date. We can really give this an honest try." His word cut you like a knife. You were so close, your body was ready to take every piece of him. You just had to take one step. You had promised to give him a shot. Your pledge is your reason. You take the step closing the gap suddenly. The kiss is passionate and needy. He releases your hands and grips your waist firmly as if he is worried about losing you. He rocks back and forth teasing your clit with the tip of his boxer covered cock.

The cloth was giving you no protection from the teasing. "I can tell you what I think now." He mumbled into your lips. "Mmm" was all you could muster as your tongue danced with his. He picked your legs up with ease and guided your back to the smooth rock wall. You whined against his lips losing the feeling of his tip on your clit. He broke the kiss, released your legs, and rubbed his fingers up and down the folds of your warmth. "The waterfall wasn't exactly what I had in mind before now..." he trailed. "It wasn't mine either." You cried out as he rubbed softly on your clit again. "Please..." you begged bitterly.

"That was on my mind." He kissed you again and removed his hand.

"Please... Jake." you cried out again.

He rubbed again but it was so soft. You were aching for more force in his touch. "Scream my name as loud as you need to sugar, were miles away from the party. No one is going to hear you cum. I want you to beg for it. Scream my name and your pleads for what you want me to do to you."

"Jake, please touch my pussy." you screamed out as his hand added pressure to your sensitive clit. "Please Jake make me cum." He pushed your thong to the side and pressed his bare palm rubbing with intensity. "Please will you lick my pussy, I need you, Jake. I want to taste myself on your tongue." His laugh lines lifted into his signature smirk.

"You are so fucking sexy." He melted down to his knees. Wanting nothing more then to please you in whatever way you begged him to do so.

His hands pulled down the thong leaving it level to the ground. His tongue rubbed on your clit. You could feel the warmth. You screamed in pleasure as he quickened his pace.

"Please Jake, I'm so close." You could feel the rough texture of his tongue against the most delicate part of your body.

"Jake, I'm cumming!" You scream. He continues as your knees buckle beneath you. You scream in such pleasure. You feel euphoria course through your nerves. Each second feeling the sense of high reaching every possible area on your body.

Jake let you ride out the high against his tongue. He lifted to his feet and you immediately met his lips. Your tongue grazing across his. He gave you everything you asked for. The sweetness of your flavor on his lips giving you what you craved.

He grabbed a handful of hair at the base of your neck. He tilted your head back and sucked the bottom of your neck. He pulled back, letting go of your hair, and looked deep into your eyes. "Please let me make you cum, Jake." His eyes flashed with sheer pleasure. "I'm on the pill. I can take it. Please, Jake I'm begging you. I want your cum." He bit his lip and led you back to the middle of the flat rock. He laid down and you followed him. You straddled him and rocked your hips against his.

"Make... me... cum." He was direct with his order. His eyes rolled back. He could feel the warmth of your pussy rubbing against his throbbing cock. You stripped his boxers down and ripped off your bra. You slid the tip in and circled teasing him. He groaned breathing heavily.

"You're such a tease." He shoved his cock into you thrusting his hips. You screamed out in the sudden pleasure. He groaned as he could feel your walls wrap around his cock. You recovered then bounced up and down his shaft. "You're so tight" He bit his lip and groaned his lifted his hands rubbing you nipples. The cold water of the waterfall now closer, misting your hot bodies. "Jake you're going to make me cum again." Your fingers teased your clit. Your other hand was stabilizing your speed and balance.

"Cum all over me. Cum while I'm inside you. Beg me to cum inside you when hit that high." His thrusting paced matching yours.

"Jake!" You screamed as you clit tingled under your pressured fingertips.

"Please cum inside my tight pussy!" You felt the euphoria take over your body again. Jake sped up and suddenly was thrusting deeply. His eyes rolled back feeling his own high. You were riding it out together as his cum released filling you.

Chapter 4

Go ahead and give me some feedback, please! I'm adding a chapter 4 to this series just to get the ducks in a row. 🥰 Love y'all!

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

[metaldeputy]

sleaze by thisusernameisunavailable

@thisusernameisunavailable01

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Eddie Munson/Gator Tillman Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe, Bartender Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Boot Worship, First Time Blow Jobs, Wet & Messy, Coming In Pants, Loss of Virginity, Anal Sex, Gator getting fucked in his stupid backwards hat, Bottom Gator Tillman, Character Typical Homophobia, Gay Eddie Munson, Boot Humping, Multiple Orgasms, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Overstimulation, Barebacking, Rimming, Eddie Munson has a dick piercing, Cute Ending, Daddy Kink, Daddy Issues, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use

Summary:

In a weird turn of events, Eddie Munson ends up working in a bar at the edge of Stark County in 2018. A bar that's frequented by cops, creeps, and the son of the most formidable sheriff that Eddie's never heard of.

Short little blurb under the cut!

"Evening, Tillman. What brings you to my alleyway at this ungodly hour of the night in the middle of a snowstorm?" Storm was a strong word. There was barely anything clinging to the ground yet. The wind was picking up quick, though. And Eddie had already seen what wind could do in this type of environment. "I was just passin' through after handling a situation a few blocks down the county road...thought I smelled a dead skunk. Turns out, it's just you." "Huh? Oh, this? I found it." Eddie pointed to the dumpster behind him. "Right under there. Weird, ain't it?" Gator's pretty eyes narrowed. Eddie had to force his face to remain neutral. He was such a hopped up little bitch. Eddie knew a few things about causal substance users, seeing as he was one and sold to a whole lot of them-, he could picture Gator buying blow from him in an instant. He gave off the aura of a guy who acted like a hardass until it was actually time to throw hands.  Then his true self would show. A coddled little piss baby who didn't understand the word no. Like the type of asshole who frequented strip clubs just to shit on the dancers then get tossed out for fondling one of them. That sort of guy made Eddie sick. He certainly wasn't about to go down for one joint at the hands of the Baby Sheriff.  "You think I'm some kind of fucking idiot or somethin'?" "Well, yeah. Sorta."

[demon-animatronic]

Montgomery Gator x Reader NSFW Headcanons! Plus Some for Shattered/Ruined Monty too!

Just some NSFW headcanons for my fav gator boy (RIP Rockstar 💔) under the cut!

- The biggest one is that he is a major Dom! And since he’s one of the bigger animatronics, he can easily tower over most people.

- He likes pinning his guys and gals against the wall with his hands on either side of them. Just watching as they squirm under him and get flustered.

- He’ll randomly come up to his lover and say things in their ear to get them hot and bothered while at work. Or even as a guest.

- Monty’s favorite kink is pet play! He’ll gladly drag his lover around the building on a leash and collar with his name on it! Making them call him Master and do whatever he says like a good boy/girl

- He also has a praise kink. Even better if his lover has one too. You’re just praising the hell out of each other and calling each other either good boy/girl and in his case, he’ll give head pats!

- Believe it or not, he does like to snuggle and nuzzle against his lover. Especially when everything is said and done and you’re just waiting around for his knot to deflate.

- EXTREMELY POSSESSIVE! Don’t let anyone else, especially Freddy, come around for very long. He doesn’t like it when they are near you. Monty will even throw you over his shoulder and teach you who your owner is and that you only belong to him. Even when nothing was happening.

- Loves to play a game of predator and prey with you! He’ll give you a head start then start hunting you down. And once he catches you, he’ll pin you down and breathe a synthetic breath right onto your face before dragging you to his room.

- Very loyal and protective!

- Monty has a bad dragon dick that’s big with ridges going down it. And a knot. And cum. Or lube. Whatever.

- He loves forcing his cock down your throat until your face is against his groan and cumming on you. At the same time, he loves releasing his cum on your body as well. Face, chest, back, whatever he can hit. But he’ll help you clean up! He won’t leave you a total mess like that!

- While he can be mean and degrade you all night long, he can sense if something goes to far. He’ll slow down and apologize and make sure you’re okay!

- oh yeah. He’s BIG on degradation. Calling you all kinds of names and sniffing to smell how wet you are afterwards.

- Monty also loves making people beg for release and will get them to the edge just to stop moving for as long as possible. You gotta whine and beg like the needy little bitch you are if you want to cum!

- Doggy style is his favorite style since he can grip you easier. Getting scratches and bruises all over your body. Either on purpose or accidentally depending on his mood.

- Though he’ll fuck you everywhere he can. His room, against the arcade in Monty golf, Monty golf in general, Catwalks, and the main stage.

- Typically he’ll have you do a show for him by stripping as he sits on the couch and then crawling to him. Going to your place on the floor in-between his legs. Ready for what’s next.

- After giving him a blow job, he’ll have you lay back and lick your pussy or cock. His tongue is big and actually has saliva making it feel amazing! He wants you to feel good too so you’re always crawling back to him.

- Even better if he walks into his room and you’re already waiting for him and the first thing you do is take his belt off. Not even a hi or a kiss on his snoot.

- He won’t admit it but he loves kisses on his snoot!!

- Monty likes it if you’re just chilling afterwards and you’re petting his tail. He pets you and you pet him.

- if you work there during the daytime, he’ll hunt you down until he finds you and takes you to his room. Locking the door behind you so he could have a quick blowjob.

- If you’re the night guard on the other hand? You’re getting fucked every night you’re there. He usually keeps you from actively working by locking you in his room and having his way with you all night.

- Back to the pet play one, he’ll make you beg and bark for release. And make you admit what a dirty bitch you are for him. How you enjoy being dommed by an animatronic.

- God this is long holy shit. Good thing it’s under the cut.

Shattered/Ruined Monty. Not really NSFW but headcanons anyway!

- After he gets shattered and breaks free from the virus, he contacts you on your Monty Fazwatch and requests for you to come into work.

- You wake up to that notification and you’re in disbelief about what happened to him and the girls when you get there. Or the pizza plex in general in Ruins case.

- Even with half of his body gone, you still manage to pick him up and carry the rabid chihuahua to parts and services.

- You joke about him being like a dog and you can tell he can’t even get angry with you. He’s just…sad. Depressed even. The girls are too. You give him a small sorry and kiss his snoot. Assuring him that you’ll do what you can to help. Even if you’re not a tech or anything.

- It’s takes a long time but you at least manage to fix his legs, tail, and voice. Along with his eyes. And of course his favorite part of his body…his dick. You do the same with Roxy’s eyes and Chica’s voice.

In Ruins case, you do all of that and clean them up the best you can. There’s nothing more for you to do though since they don’t have a lot of spare parts and parts and service was destroyed.

- Afterwards, you run into Cassie who takes the girls home with her after you assure her Gregory isn’t there and that there’s a monster in the basement. Or so you heard. Anyway, they leave and you take Monty home with you!

Okay I need to end it here. It’s gotten waaaay too long.

[original-character-championship]

Bracket G Round 1

Poll 26

Deafheaven Leppard (@ratsovereignity) vs. Summer Jet (@kung-fu-cutbug)

435. Deafheaven Leppard (@ratsovereignity)

They/them, It/its, He/him, She/her

Singularly iconic, one of the greatest players in Jojo fan part Angel Warp. Slutty, powerful, miserable, BEYOND poker-faced: she's got it all. The facilitator of the pillarman return arc. Possibly funniest bitch alive with a cut-and-dry sense of humour, fondness for riddling talk, willful ignorance, and the peepaw flair.

Many great claims to fame, such as destroying a large hill because of being pissed that its name was changed from Leppard's Tit to Twisted Sister's tit (On and off girlfriend, bound to it by The Curse. Springtime ftw. They don't even like eachother that much), skinning people alive, flooding an entire empire despite being terrified of water, and most importantly being chased by the Wild Hunt to facilitate the passage of seasons from autumn to winter. He always gets out in time for spring, so does it matter (Yes. It does.---lifelong (over 70k years) traaaauma---)? It's thanks to her that the harvest is so good.

Don't you want to vote for a father of um. Siiiiix? Two biologicals despite a LOW birth rate, and five unwanted problemchildren that latched onto him as soon as it made the mistake of crawling out that pillar. Seriously, let her escape that narrative, this really isn't good for her. What's the difference between a room and a stage? - I don't want to be your mother, and all that.

Is also the product of the world's first divorce/why there's salt in the sea/the desolation of the princes. You know when a dissociative mad prince groomed for command since birth wielding the agendas of others as a holy blade (the one once with a name, now referred to only as the earthmover) can nail a foppish peacock/caligula's horse longing for something it had a taste of once and then was rewarded and punished with and bound by the strings of fate voluntarily (muse....) whatever kid shows up is going to be a REAL interesting beast. Especially when said monarch threatens to nuke entire civilisation using hamon-by-proxy and the peacock has to start aeons of stories by drowning the freak. And then the kid has to be put in the fridge for literally two million years. Yeah. You know that thing's going to be a freak.

So much Leppard lore, so little time. Whatever. Vote my little buddy. Angel Warp tumblr (It's real. and mostly dead fictional characters in a purgatorial ARG) will love it.

Leppard is very tall, reaching about eight feet by himself and over ten counting horns. Her horns spiral upwards like a gazelle’s and are covered in bands of metal for decoration. She is physically androgynous and very muscular, and has a coppery complexion, dotted with the occasional darker rosette and stripe. Their hair reaches around their lower legs and is a wavy earthen brown, with a few braided and beaded strands woven in. Their eyes are a luminous orange-amber with black sclera and blackened tearducts, their nose hawkish and hooked with a septum piercing, and their eyebrows enormous, their sharp face having very pronounced cheekbones, which is the cause of um. 'Gator style fucked up mouth extending all the way up to there. They wear a simple linen loincloth, and a mantle-cape (both white with orange accents), worn draped across a shoulder, weighed down by a single pauldron and golden necklaces in triangular shapes mimicking sunrays, these shapes also seen on their facepaint; three triangles, one set on an eyelid, and the other set below the other eye. Additionally, Leppard has coiling tattoos (traitor's brandings, actually) on their arms and legs, sharp claws, fangs and floppy ears covered in hoop earrings.

eeeem oh leppard fandragon here https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/76425579

436. Summer Jet (@kung-fu-cutbug)

she/her

Let's see here... She's 6'7" and fucking jacked, I know Tumblr loves big buff women; she's transfem, trans rights!; she's an absolute badass who has survived multiple near-death experiences so far in the tabletop campaign she was made for; she's a huge My Chemical Romance fan & I created her while riding the high of an MCR hyperfixation, I KNOW Tumblr is all over MCR or at least a significant portion of it is; she's my hottest OC, in my opinion; she's a sassy bitch/mom friend combo who takes no BS and will ride or die for anyone she's close with; and she managed to get together with the great-great-whatever-granddaughter of a powerful lightning deity.

So toss Summer your vote! She'll bring you over to her apartment to jam out and play some games together if you do, and uh... well, she's not going to claim responsibility for any power outages or freak lightning strikes you fall victim to if you don't. :p

[happytroopers]

Mando S 3 Ep 1 shit post!

back and hornier than ever !! Me trying to control my reactions as I watch the sexiest motherfucker in the galaxy do silly little tasks !! Spoilers below. duh.

1.) me watching Mando before I've gotten past episode two of Bad Batch?? yeah I'm also disappointed

2.) tiny helmet??

3.) YOUNG DIN????

4.) him needs a hair cut

5.) issa gator!! Gator needs his gat- punk ass bitch!! love that this just takes place in fucking Florida

6.) NOT THE GO PRO HELMET SHOT

7.) not baby din I was so very wrong

8.) not the entraiLS

9.) DIN!! and son!!!!

10.) he's so,,, shiny. Mirrorball type beat. I wanna string him up on the ceiling fan and put a flash light on him.

11.) but it's pretty!

12) ok getting strong baptizing vibes... maybe its my southern baptist upbringing

13.) THEY NAP!!! cute

14.) squiiids

15.) hate to see him go love to watch him walk away

16.) gentrification??? on my Navarro??? more likely than you think

17.) not the droid memorial ;'(

18.) why is he swaggy now

19.) love him spinning he's gonna get sick tho !!

20.) "if you say so." love that Disney knows that we all hate that name

21.) snamcks!!

22.) hondo!!! please!!! no hondo ;////

23.) love when he crosses himself like that.

24.)quick draw McGraw my love

25.) love that he's so picky about droids

26.) Din fiddle with my insides like that

27.) throw the boy!!!

28.) babu frik???? we're really trying anything to make the sequel trilogy relevant huh.

29.) wow already with the side quests

30.) ME EVERYTIME I SEE A CAT

31.) AVAST!!! AVAST!! A V A S T !!!

32.) GROGU USING DINS AMMO STRAP AS A SEATBELT

33.) tbh I love the new ship but I miss the razor crest.

34.) Disney saw too many cohabitating fics and said they're too horny! destroy the one bed trope! fuck it! no beds!

35.) swamp thing????

36.) thinking obitine thoughts

37.) lemme get a good look at those banners

38.) oh its this bitch

39.) Jesus its really tent revival this season

40.) wow we set up like four side quests in one episode that's got to be a record

[officermaddie23]

When the cast of Vanessa Presents stays at a motel

Montgomery Gator: Hi welcome to the clown motel how can I help you? We're running a weekly special right now we have the roach room and the murder room

Millie: Uh we have a little boy who's scared of clowns

Montgomery Gator: Yah scared of clowns come here kid

Millie: Go on Gregory don't be shy

Montgomery Gator: ARE YOU A FREAKING COWARD

Gregory: My dad told me to tell anyone who calls me that to fuck off

Millie (sensing Gregory's discomfort): Okay Gregory that's probably enough (Gregory runs over to her)

Montgomery Gator: Would you guys like to buy a room or are you wasting my time

Luis: Hey dawg that's just my friend and her kid along with her co worker and ghost friend We'll take a clean room you have a clean room

Montgomery Gator: Yeah let me check if I do oh would you look at that I don't would you like the roach room or the murder room

Luis: What happened in the murder room exactly

Montgomery Gator: Uh some bitch did not get a kid his happy meal so he threw her off the balcony. Would you like the murder room or the roach room

Luis: Listen fool if you can't give us a clean room we're not staying here

Montgomery Gator: You are not gonna find any better rooms than the clown motel pal

Luis: The fuck kind of motel is this

Montgomery Gator: WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT KINDA FUCKING MOTEL IS THIS LOOK AROUND YOU ITS THE BEST ON THE BLOCK IT'S A CLOWN MOTEL ITS FULL OF CLOWNS

(Millie, Charlie, Vanessa, and Gregory are laughing there asses off)

Montgomery Gator: YOU WANT A FUCKING ROOM OR NOT COME ON

Luis: Listen fool if you don't give us a room I'm gonna leave a one star review on yelp bitch

Montgomery Gator: OH MY GOD PAL YOU AIN'T GONNA GIVE ME SHIT PAL EITHER BUY A ROOM OR GET OUT I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE CLOWN MOTEL BUT A COUPLE OF CLOWNS JUST WALKED THROUGH MY DOOR

Luis: What the fuck did you just call me that's it I'm going full El Paso on your bitch ass ES MEJOR QUE NOS DAN UNA SALA DE MIERDA SI NO VOY A VOLARLE LOS OJOS

Montgomery Gator: Someone tell me what he's saying I don't speak Taco Bell

Vanessa: *dies of laughter*

Luis: MIRA TONTO VOY A CONTAR HASTA 3 SI A LAS 3 NO NOS DAS CUARTO LIMPIO

Montgomery Gator: What is this guy saying

Charlie Emily: We dunno

Montgomery Gator: THIS IS ENGLISH LAND (shakes Luis) WE SPEAK ENGLISH

@mellowwolflady this would happen

[loveronlineee]

Oh, Worm? (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist 

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Y/N asks Eddie the “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” question

Y/N Notes: none

Okay I saw this request from an anon and immediately had to do it. This it a super short one but I hope you guys still like it!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Y/N and Eddie relaxed on the couch in Eddie’s trailer. They often did this on Saturdays; going to one of their’s and just hanging out. It didn’t matter what they did, as long as they were together. YN sat with her legs crossed at one end, reading a book. Eddie lay across, his head resting on Y/N’s lap as he tried to nap.

The trailer was quiet. Only the sounds coming from the tv at a low volume. Y/N put down her book.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He answered, eyes still closed.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Eddie looked at her, a little confused. After a moment of silence, Y/N got a reply.

“Wait why are you a worm?” Y/N shrugged.

“I don’t know just answer.” Eddie looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

“So did you turn into a worm just now or were you born a worm?”

“Does it matter?” Y/N chuckled. Eddie sat up and turned around to face her.

“Yes! Because if you turned into a worm right now, I would be really sad.” Eddie began to ramble, using his hands a lot to help him explain. “But I’d still take care of you, give you some nice soil to live in. But if you were born a worm, then no.”

“No?!” Y/N faked offence.

“How am I supposed to fall in love with a version of you that doesn’t have your face, your body or your personality??”

“Hey I’d still have my personality!” The couple began a joking argument. Smiling as their voices got louder. Eddie stood up from the couch and began pacing back and forth.

“But I’d never hear you sing, or throw me a sarcastic comment! I’ll never see you get excited when your favourite show is on or dance to my music! What’s the point then??” Y/N grinned and stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Only you could answer that question and make it romantic.” Eddie grinned back and held her waist. They closed the gap between their lips then pressed their foreheads together. “I love you.”

“I love you too Y/N. I’m glad you’re not a worm.”

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[that-fic-girl]

Reader wearing lingerie, going to Monty golf. In the dim lighting, Monty thinks you’re just wearing a normal outfit.

But oh.

When you get close enough to where he can see you.

It’s game over man

Suddenly you’re knocked over, bent down and ass up as he tears through it

And you know

It’s gonna be one hell of a night 😳

girl u are smart. SMART UGH

bro im not kidding this is like mwah chefs kisss

FOAMING OUT THE MOUTH WTF

MONTY X AFAB READER

LINGERIE;)

TW: HEAVY NSFW THEMES,

!NSFW VIDEO! also if you want to watch along to this I think it could help you mind imagine the scenario here:)

you went through the huge doors, guarding the infamous Monty Golf. tonight was the night you decided to test your luck.

See, you've loved a certain tall, muscular, short tempered, flirtatious gator for a while now. so you thought It be a great idea to climb your way to his affection by seduction.

knowing that he'd probably blow you off because he doesn't know how to deal with emotions if you ever confessed, I think THIS was the best idea you could think of (dumb bitch.)

you felt the cold tiles prick the bottoms of your feet as you walked through the attraction, trying to find monty.

you heard a few swings and a couple grunts was coming from one of the golf roads and assumed it was him so you followed the sounds.

as you saw his scaly figure you dropped your robe and slowly walked in his direction.

"heyy monty~ you ok over there, big guy?~"

you said with your hands behind your back, looking like a mischievous brat.

"Heya, y/n. yeah im okay just tryna' get this ball in the hole. I've been trying to do it for weeks now and-"

he stopped his sentence when you finally came closer. presenting the beautiful sight you had to offer him.

"I- uh-"

he was at a loss of words. he just stared at your body, shocked. looking at you, his best friend, in a sexy, red lingerie all for him made him go feral.

"wow" he huffed, regaining his confidence back. "darlin' I didn't know that all this was under that baggy uniform. you should show off this perfect little body of yours~" he said with a smirk.

his hands started wandering over your figure. gently touching your curves and pulling you closer.

"you should've just got rid of those clothes if you like me so much without them" you chimed back, pulling your face closer to him.

this was gonna be a fun night

You and monty walk into one of the staff rooms hidden in the attraction. He opens the door and immediately you are flung onto a sofa.

Monty bent down to turn you over so he could have a clear view of your ass.

"mmm... perfect, such a good little pet for me aren't you?"

he pulled your panties to the side, having a good look at the heat between your thighs before deciding to shove one of his fingers into your aching hole.

you lightly moaned and squirmed as he slowly pushed two of his fingers in. he gave you a moment to get comfortable but in seconds after he was pounding his fingers into you.

you felt yourself begin to fall off the edge and monty felt it too.

before you got to cum, he removed his fingers from your throbbing pussy.

"you're not cumming yet sweetheart. not until you're on my cock"

he moved your ass up in position to line his length into you.

he gently pushed his cock into you and dug his nails into your waist.

"fuckk.. baby you're so tight'

you let out a whine of pleasure. it felt like euphoria was coming to attack you when you heard his grunts and moans.

he eventually started to move faster, hitting every one of your right spots.

you felt yourself being pulled backwards and forwards by the waistline string on the lingerie that was being held by monty to guid you onto his dick.

"omg yes- fuck baby you feel so good"

you let out several praises to the gator as he fucks you with no mercy.

The pleasure in the pit of your stomach got heavier and heavier until you felt like you where gonna explode. and you did just that.

you felt Monty thrust faster and harder. The moans he made were intoxicating and gave you the best feeling in the world.

The pounding grew harder and harder until he came all inside you, slapping your ass as he did.

he removed his dick from inside of you and let you lay down. covering you with some blankets he found in the stock boxes.

"fuck darlin' I love ya a bit too much I think haha" he sat down with you and held your hand, rubbing your back as you dosed off.

"you just might" you mumbled with a smile.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

liSTEN ITS 2 AM AND IM ILL AND TIRED I KNOW ITS SHIT BUT I WANNA MAKE YALL HAPPY :(

[wroteclassicaly]

Pick You Up At 7

(Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader)

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

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

Word count: 2,913

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go away.

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

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

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

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

“Gator…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Or —“

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

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

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

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

“I asked you to quit.”

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

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

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

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

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

And it scares Gator Tillman to death.

“Gator, please just go away?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doesn’t matter what he did.”

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

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

“Twerp, c’mon —“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And another, one that has your mouth going dry.

“Get your ass movin’, pencil dick.”

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

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

“I… what?” You come up with.

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

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

Does this mean…?

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

“I was not!” Your date is shouting.

The Dollar Tree? Wait…

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

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

“Get him processed in, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[winchester-girl67]

Bubble, Bubble, Bath & Trouble

Gif by spnjensenlove02

Summary: The reader tries to get Dean to relax with a magical bubble bath mixture, but things don't go to plan when a bath toy comes to life.

Prequel to Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

Pairing: Dean x Wiccan!reader

Square: Free Space @supernatural-jackles​​

Word Count: 2,723

Warnings: language, a little angst, arguing, witchcraft, mainly fluff, crack?

A/N: I had so much fun writing Cock-A-Doodle-Doo that I decided to make a prequel. Also written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo. 

_____

"Holy fuck. Y/N!" Dean yelled, sprinting out of the bathroom and bursting into your room.

You pulled your headphones off when you saw him half naked and standing in your doorway. A towel slung low on his hips and water droplets inching down his freckled skin.

"You realize you're dripping on my floor right, that's what most of us use the towel for, before leaving the bathroom." You quipped, eyes lingering along his stomach muscles pointing towards his-

"Bathtub- crocodile, why?" Dean asked breathlessly.

"What?"

"There's a freaking crocodile in the bathtub." He said between breaths. You started to laugh with a beaming smile on your face, "I'm not fucking kidding!"

"Geez, calm down would you. It's just a bath toy I thought was cute." You shrugged. “It floats and squeaks like a rubber ducky-”

"It's a live dinosaur in a bubble bath, Y/N." Dean snapped, cutting you off again.

“Sure, Dean.” You said, rolling your eyes and attempting to slip your headphones back on but Dean ripped them away. Good thing they were wireless.

“Come with me,” he grabbed your hand not waiting for an answer, dragging you out of your room and down the hall into the bathroom. “See.” He said, pointing towards the bathtub a few feet away, making sure to keep his distance behind you.

“Stop pushing me.” You shook his hands off of your shoulders and stood on your tiptoes to peek over the edge of the tub. "Oh my gosh... That’s not a crocodile, Dean.”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it's not. It’s an alligator see how the snout is U-shaped and you can only see it’s top row of teeth-”

“Are you seriously lecturing me on the proper term for the giant reptile splashing around in our bathtub right now?!” He steamed, palming his face and shaking his head.

You could tell he was at the end of his rope with you by the way his tired green eyes met yours. It was starting to feel like this living arrangement wasn't working out. Even if the bunker was the first place you'd felt safe in a long time.

“Well, I thought-”

“Oh, you thought? So that thing between those pretty little doe eyes of yours actually works?" He said, poking you in the middle of your forehead with an index finger until you swatted his hand away. "Worst witch ever, I swear.”

“Wiccan, jerk.” You hissed and clenched your jaw.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I don't care how you do it but when I come back I want his prehistoric ass out of here!"

You moved your lips mockingly as Dean spoke and crossed your arms over your chest, giving him the best bitch face you could muster up. He just glared back at you, holding his towel in place and stomped out of the room.

“What is going on in here- Y/N, you okay?” Sam questioned, passing by his brother on his way into the bathroom; having heard the commotion.

“Yeah.” You sniffled, your eyes tearing over a little but you blinked them away before they could fall.

Sam must've spooked the gator as he approached and it swiped its tail splashing you both with lavender scented bath water.

"Is that an alligator?" Sam asked, ringing out his shirt and watching the reptile sink back into the bathtub. "What's wrong, Y/N/N?”

"Nothing," you wiped away a stray tear running down your cheek. He gave you a raise of his brow and you sighed knowing he wouldn't give up the ghost. "I was trying to do something nice for Dean but I messed up the spell and now he's mad at me.” You bit your quivering lip, "...he yelled at me."

You felt like a little kid admitting it, but getting yelled at really did bother you. Especially when you had been trying so hard to get on Dean's good side as of late. Every attempt went to shit and you were back to square one with him. He hated witches and refused to acknowledge that you weren't one. You were different.

“You know he doesn't mean it, right, kid. He's just hot tempered sometimes.” Sam reassured, pulling you in for a hug and smooshing your face between his pecs.

“I know, but he spends so much time taking care of everyone, I just wanted him to take a moment for himself. That's why I drew him a special relaxing bubble bath. I thought he'd appreciate it, release some of that tension but- I dunno where I went wrong. It was literally the simplest calming potion in this spell book I got off of Amazon. Maybe I shouldn't have added the pop rocks.” You mumbled into his shirt as you thought over the ingredients you'd used.

“You put pop rocks in a bubble bath?” He broke the hug to give you a questioning look.

“Well yeah, the recipe called for it. It was supposed to turn it into a kind of jacuzzi. Except-”

“Except what?”

“I could only find the sour kind. I didn't think it would make a big difference." You shrugged, hearing a bubbling coming from behind you and glancing over your shoulder quickly to note the location of the gator.

"Why didn't you just run him a regular bubble bath?" Sam asked, pulling you further away from the tub when he started to get nervous.

The bath water was a deep purple colour and you couldn't see much past the surface.

"The mixture was supposed to guarantee tranquility and relaxation." You explained, chewing on your lip nervously. "And you know Dean, he's incapable of taking a moment for himself unless it's at the end of a bottle lately and that's not healthy."

"You're worried about him," Sam grinned down at you and you scrunched up your face not sure where he was going with the implication.

"I worry about both of you, but at least you eat healthy and look after yourself. Dean on the other hand, needs a little push and I thought the pop rocks would've helped with that-"

"Y/N!" You heard Dean's voice echo down the bunker halls.

"You weren't kidding, he is wound pretty tight." Sam commented, "wonder what his problem is now."

"Uh, he probably found the mess I made in the kitchen when I was measuring out ingredients." You cringed, shifting on your heels. "I was gonna clean it up, I just needed a minute to rest my feet. I've been on them all day making that potion."

“Come on, Y/N/N, I’ll give you a hand to tidy up.” Sam said, giving you a small smile and glancing back over at the tub. "We'll deal with the alligator later," you giggled at the rhyme, "just keep the door closed for now."

“Thanks, Sammy. You're the best." You beamed up at him.

"Better than Dean?" He asked, wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you into a playful noogie.

You squeaked and squirmed out of his grasp, laughing along with him when you caught your reflection in the mirror and fixed your hair.

"Uh-huh, you're fun and you've never yelled at me." You nodded up at him and grinned.

Unlike Dean, Sam had welcomed you into the bunker with open arms. And whenever you and his older brother had a spat he would take your side even if you were in the wrong. If it weren’t for Sam you would’ve moved out a while ago.

"He'll come around, just give him a chance. He knows you have good intentions." Sam said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you out of the bathroom.

It didn’t take long to tidy up the kitchen, you and Sam making a game of it; seeing who could hit the trash can from the furthest away. You gloated when he hit the rim and missed. Sam picking you up and spinning you around the room on his shoulder until you got dizzy.

“Hey. Y/N,” Dean said, leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Watching as Sam eased you down onto your feet. “-look I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I, um... know you were just trying to do something nice for me.”

“I’ll let you two talk,” Sam said, quickly leaving the room; you couldn’t blame him when tensions ran high.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t exactly have a good track record with witches and it's just taking some getting used to- to living with one.” Dean explained, descending the couple of steps into the kitchen.

“Wiccan...” you sighed, correcting him again, though you’re not sure he heard. “This isn't working out, is it?" You looked up at him and he just stared back at you. “I didn’t think so.” You pushed past him.

“Wait. Come back.” He pleaded, grabbing your arm. “I’m trying... Don’t leave.”

“You really want me to stay?”

Dean nodded, holding your gaze. He sucked on his lower lip and you watched his chin tremble. It was the most honest he'd ever been with you and you could tell there was a lot more he wanted to say but didn't.

“Okay then. I will.” You said and he let go of your arm. You had to find some way to clear the air with him- to start over. “D-do you... Do you wanna bake a pie with me?” You knew that was his favourite dessert, Sam was always buying them for him on hunts.

“I didn’t know you bake,” he said, licking his lips.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me.” You winked at him, lightening the mood.

“I’d like to change that.” He gave you a genuine smile. "But you gotta promise me one thing, no more cold-blooded creatures crawling around the bunker.”

“I promise, no more cold blooded creatures." You said, raising your right hand.

“And, I think we’re going to need a ‘no witchcraft in the bunker’ rule.”

“I’ll second that.” Sam shouted from the hall, obviously eavesdropping.

“Ugh, fine.” You agreed with a huff after a moment.

There was plenty of time when they weren’t around for you to practice spells and they'd never know.

"So, do I get a second chance?" Dean questioned, still chewing on his lip; his green eyes less harsh than earlier.

"You do if you promise me one thing-" you smirked shyly, nodding. "-you'll talk to me next time I screw up. I don't respond well to yelling."

"Deal, but let's not have a next time, sweetheart."

“I can't make any promises. I'm only human-" he gave you a dubious look that you chose to ignore. "But, I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”

“In that case, what kind of pie do you like?” He asked, pulling a cookbook from the drawer next to the stove.

“Um, I don’t really like pie."

“You’re kidding me right, Y/N? What kinds have you tried?” Dean asked, flipping through to the pie section of the book.

“I guess I haven’t really tried any. Except pumpkin." You scowled.

“Then how do you know you don’t like them, hm?” He chuckled when you scrunched up your face.

“Educated guess,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a chocolate kinda girl.”

“There is such a thing as chocolate cream pie, you know.” He flipped a couple more pages, turning the book around to show you a photograph of a delectable slice of chocolate pie with a fluffy cream topping. You had to admit it looked pretty good.

“Seriously?!”

“Mhm."

“Can we make that one?! I think I might actually like that one.” You begged, Dean smiling and nodding.

Dean neglected to tell you that the pie needed to chill in the refrigerator for at least six hours. So you were a little bummed and excited at the same time; having tasted the warm gooey filling when you licked the spoon clean. But at least it gave you time to deal with the alligator.

There was a knock at your bedroom door a few hours later, Dean peeking his head inside when you called out. He entered the room with two plates, a large slice of chocolate cream pie on each and two forks sticking out of his shirt pocket. He set both plates down on your bed, whipping around when he heard a hiss come from behind him. The alligator from the bathtub blocking his escape and cornering him in the room with you.

“What is that lizard still doing here?” He blanched, looking around for something he could use as a weapon and settling for the fork in his pocket.

“She's kinda cute, don't cha think?” You grinned up at him, shifting to sit cross legged on the bed.

“She?!”

“Uh-huh. Don't worry, De, she's all bite." You assured with a soft smile.

"You mean all bark," he corrected, glancing between you and the gator, "-all bark, no bite?"

"No, she'll bite you, she doesn't like you. You scared her before." You responded with a laugh.

"I scared her?! And since when do you talk to crocodiles?" He quipped, the gator flicking its tail like she could understand the derogatory tone in his voice.

"Alligator-"

"Whatever."

"Your being mean again," you sulked, the alligator hissing and taking a step closer to Dean, almost on cue.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Y/N. Please call off your bodyguard, sweetheart." He pleaded and you smiled, waving the gator to back off which she did and Dean jumped on the bed; standing on it nervously beside you.

"Plus, she's an excellent security system. I call her Snappy," you started but Dean began shaking his head, knowing exactly what you were thinking before you even had the chance to say it out loud. "-Just think about it, Dean.”

“No, Y/N. You cannot keep a pet alligator. Turn it back.” He demanded, pointing at the oversized reptile staring him down.

“But-”

“I said no.”

“You're no fun.” You pouted.

“Turn it back, Y/N.” He ordered, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Fine.” You relented, watching as Snappy hissed at Dean again, circling around the bed to where he stood on it.

“Now-”

“I said fine! Just let me say goodbye first.” You snapped.

You didn't have the heart to turn Snappy back into a bath toy and you knew you couldn't keep her when she nipped Dean in the butt as he leapt over her. It took everything you had to pull her off of him; some sort of sire bond kept her from turning on you, but it wasn't effective in getting her to listen to you. She just really didn't like Dean.

So you made a call to Cas and had him transport Snappy to a Nature Reserve where she'd be safe and in more of a natural habitat. It was bittersweet but you were happy to hear that she adapted quickly to her new environment and was thriving with the other alligators.

“Y/N/N?” Dean said, finding you in the Fortress of Dean-A-Tude a couple more hours later.

“Hm,” you hummed, glancing up at him while licking your plate clean. You'd finally gotten around to trying the chocolate cream pie and couldn't get enough of it.

"That good, huh?" He smirked, taking a seat next to you on the couch with a plate of his own.

"Mhm," you agreed, waiting for him to drop his guard and jabbing your fork into his slice of pie.

Giggling as you shoved the fork full into your mouth. Dean glaring hard at you, but you could see the playfulness hidden behind his green eyes. He nudged you with his shoulder, chuckling and took a bite of his own.

"Ow, I just bit myself.” Dean winced, holding his cheek.

“That's dumb, you're supposed to bite other people.” You informed, stealing another fork full.

“You're such a weirdo, sweetheart.” He laughed, shaking his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he looked at you.

“Yeah, I know but it keeps things interesting.” You shrugged, licking your fork clean; Dean offering you the last bite which you happily accepted.

You were glad to have turned a new leaf with him. Finally settling into being friends, though you suspected he was still tentative on the Wiccan front. But you were slowly getting there and you were content with that.

_________________________ 


A/N: Read the sequel Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15​

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Special Medicine

Gif credit @jamieduttons

Requested by @whateverthecostner.

Taglist @kaymudd. @ackles-nhl. @cbouvier23. @mysty-psycho.

"Oh you fucking dipshits. I dont need anyone taking care of me. Fucking assholes". John Dutton yelled into the phone. He was pissed off cause the hospital said he needed a nurse to help him with somethings. Nothing major but still this was John Dutton, the man that could do anything by himself.

"Excuse me"? You knocked on the door of his office. He wasn't supposed to be out of bed or doing anything strenuous.

"Who the hell are you"?

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, your nurse". You smiled wide and pushed back your fear of him firing you.

"Um, she's here and she's fine". John said into the phone. He had to do a double take to make sure he was seeing the woman in front of him. But then he realized what came out of his mouth when you giggled. "She'll do". John slammed the phone down and stood up with a grunt.

"I'm John Dutton".

"I know. Why are you out of bed"?

"Work, wont stop coming in".

You walked over to him and gently grabbed his elbow. "Work can wait. You've been seriously injured and you need to rest". You helped him along to his room. Putting him straight to bed. He protested but he sorta liked you so he did what he was told. 

"I hate laying in bed. Theres nothing to do when I should be out there". John pointed to the window.

"You know the world isnt going to stop just because you're stuck in your house for a few weeks. It'll be there when you get better. Now, what would you like for breakfast? The other nurse". You started but John blew raspberries.

"That bitch didnt know anything about me. She called me Walter on her first day. Who's Walter? You probably won't get it right either so just let me do it". John went to get up. You put your hands on his shoulders pushing him down.

"I'm not like other nurses. Now, coffee black and sunnyside up eggs with toast butter and jam"?

"Close. No jam". John looked impressed.

"I'll be right back". You saying leaving, John really started to like you in the few minutes you've been here, him starring at your backside and your curves made him feel all fuzzy. Maybe it was the meds.

About twenty minutes later, you came back with a tray. You sat it down in front of him. "Okay"?

"Yeah, but you could've gotten Gator to do it". He said taking off his glasses.

"I'm more of a doer than a have someone do it for me kinda person".

"My kinda people". John chuckled. "This is good. Thank you".

"You're welcome. After breakfast its medicine time".

"Fuck me". John groan throwing his back on his pillow.

"You know you have too. It says to take it with food. So get to eating". You laugh when John rolled his eyes.

"I hate this. I'm helpless".

"You're not helpless. You're just a little set back but if you follow doctors orders you can be up and going in no time. Now, if you be a good boy and take your meds and eat your food I'll give you a surprise".

"What's the surprise"? John crossed his arms.

"Are you really going to negotiate a surprise"?

"Maybe".

"Eat". You laugh going to fix his medicine.

John had finished his breakfast and took his medicine without complaining. He was being a trooper or he just wanted that surprise.

"You gotta husband"?

John's question took you by surprise. "No".

"Boyfriend"?

"No".

"Girlfriend"?

"No but I do have a dog. His name is Thorn".

"Cause he's a thorn in your side"? John laughed.

You let out a chuckle. "No, hes a great dog. I found him in a thorn bush when he was six weeks old. His owner just threw him out. But hes happy and healthy now. Seven years later, still runs into thorn bushes every now and then". You laugh as you remember.

"People can be cruel".

"Yes, they can be. Look at you. Poor helpless old man gets injured". You hid your grin behind your hand as you spoke.

John's jaw dropped. "Helpless? Old man"?

"I'm kidding". You laugh.

"I'll show you old man". John grabbed your scrub collar and smashed his lips to yours. Taking you both by surprise. But he was an amazing kisser.

"That was-". You licked your lips as he released you.

"Inappropriate. I know. You can leave if you want and tell your boss". John sighed. He shouldnt have done that. Put you in that position.

"I was going to say nice but you may have to find you another nurse because after that kiss, I may not be able to keep my hands off of you". You planted another kiss to his lips.

"We dont have to tell anyone about it. It could be our little secret". John mumbled against your lips. Making you giggle as you pulled away.

"Okay, our little secret". You chewed on your bottom lip as you looked over John's face.

"What are you thinking about, sugar"?

"How things change in a matter of seconds. One minute you're yelling you dont need a damn nurse and now you cant keep your hands off of me".

"If I like what I see I go for it. I'm that kind of man. But when I saw you I knew you were good for me one way or another".

"Is that supposed to be a complement"?

"It is. You're bed side manner is excellent". John chuckled.

"Thank you. I take pride in my work and my patients. But you Mr. Dutton, get extra". You leaned in and kissed his lips.

"Speaking of extra, where's my surprise for taking my meds"?

"Well, doctors orders are not to do strenuous activities. So what I had in mind is a bit strenuous. It'll have to wait. Sorry". You click you tongue.

"Fuck the doctors". John grabbed the back of your head, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. His tongue flicking yours as he entered your mouth. His free hand rested on your curvy hip.  You moaned into the kiss. A part of you wanted to stop cause of his condition but John's a tough stubborn man.

[vermillionmars]

COWORKER — !!

sundrop x reader

cw/tw ; profanity ( a lot ), robophobia ( ? ), thoughts of violence, mc is mean

a/n ; hi so rhis was partially a joke to spite my friend but i also just,, adore sun and moon so,, but like i haven’t been in the mood to write so it’s crack,, haha! btw i’ve never written sunny b4 give me a break thx

“ — SIPPIN’ ON ORPHAN TEARS ! ”

“I fucking hate children.”

You did. You really, really did. They were loud and hyperactive, annoying and bratty and disrespectful. They were fast as well, zooming around the crowded daycare with no care in the world. Like they were in a race of life or death, they ran and ran and knocked everything over—all your hard work making it all neat and tidy, pristine and pretty, gone.

And to make it worse, they didn’t know when to stop bothering you. If you had to hear one more shrill, nasally little voice ask the same damn question, you were sure you’d pull your hair out in frustration. You understood they were tiny creatures with very few functioning brain cells, and were just naturally excitable and annoying, but that didn’t change your rage.

For one—one—day, could you get a break? Could they leave you alone for at least an hour…maybe two? Wishful thinking, you realized, but you could only hope.

“No, Mari, you cannot eat the glue. Jack, please get down from there—you’ll fall, and I don’t feel like dealing with a lawsuit today…or any time this week…sTOP—THE BALLPIT WILL NOT BREAK YOUR FALL—”

After dealing with all of the children (none of which had died, thankfully) and making sure they fell asleep comfortably, you sighed. You didn't understand how people could genuinely like these brats—how they could stand the constant need for attention, the neverending chatter, the general neediness...Then again, maybe you were just an asshole—you wouldn't doubt that.

But still, Jesus Christ, this job sucked. You'd much rather be forced to do maintenance on those neon animatronics. Sure, they seemed complicated mechanically and you weren't the best with that kind of stuff, but it was better than hearing a kid scream every five seconds and refuse to listen to you. Plus, that one guy—gator? Crocodile? Whatever he was—seemed kinda cool! Even with his stupid glasses...You were good at golf, in your professional opinion, so you could totally kick his ass.

Yeah, but you couldn't exactly leave your post. It was dangerous to leave children unattended, so you were stuck in this colorful nightmare for the rest of your career here. Stuck with...you shivered, kids.

"Fuck this job, and fuck Freddy Fazbear."

❥︎┄┄┄★•´

The best day of your whole life—whole life working at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, that is—came on a bright, miserable Monday morning. You had been preparing your third cup of coffee when some guard—you couldn't remember their name, didn't bother to in fact, but you sort of recalled it starting with a V—hauled in a giant box.

"What in the Hell is that."

They huffed, slamming their hands onto their hips aggressively. "It's a robot. And as of now, your coworker. So, don't break it. Or else it's coming out of your paycheck."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I won't break the fucking—wait...coworker? What do you mean by that—" Your question went unanswered, because the guard was gone before you could finish.

"...bitch—" You eyed the box suspiciously. "Well, whatever! I don't need that guard, I'll figure it out on my own!"

You carefully opened the box—you were warned not to break it, so it was surely fragile right? The robot, as the mean guard had called it, was fucking heavy. That was the first thing you noticed about it. The second thing was its face. "A sun?" It was vaguely reminiscent of those old paintings where they gave the Sun (and the Moon) a creepy ass human face for...like no reason.

You almost screamed when its head started to spin.

"H~ello, friend!" It said, joyful.

"Uh, hello there to you too...pal?" What the fuck, why can it talk—you thought you would have to press some power button or something...

From there, the animatronic sun kept talking your head off. Man, it was just as bad as the children in the daycare...and this was your...'coworker', how? Screw your paycheck, you were damn near ready to rip its head off.

"So! So! What do you wanna do? Actually, wait wait—what's your name, friend? I can't believe I forgot to ask! AH! That was very rude of me, I'm sorry, friend!" It rambled.

"You're fine...no need to yell." You rubbed your head to rid yourself of your upcoming migraine. "I'm, uh, [Y/N]...and you?"

"Oh. OH! Oh, oh, oh—you can call me Sun! Or Sunny, or Sundrop! Or Sunnydrop! Or Sunrise—or Sunnyr—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" You covered your ears and winced at the volume of its voice. "So, then...Sunny...to be blunt, why are you here?"

"Here? Why am I—" It looked around, taking in the sights of the brightly lit daycare. "Right! Daycare...attendant...help...OH! That's you, right?" Its permanent smile was honestly kind of creepy, top that off with its childish personality, and you had a recipe for something you knew you wouldn't like.

"Yeah, that'd be me." You groaned. "Not that I really want this job."

"Why not?" You could hear the frown in its voice. Its head spun lightly, the cone-shaped rays on it spinning. "It sounds fun! You get to play all day long with no consequences, and you can have all the friends you want!"

"Is that how you think it is?" You hummed. "If that's your opinion, you can take over for me..." Though you meant it as a joke, the robot seemed to perk up at the idea.

"YES! Er, I mean, yes!" It lowered its volume when it saw your glare. "I'll do a very good job, you'll see!"

"Mhm, sure. But when you get tired of dealing with toddlers all day, there's no shame in flipping the lights off and calling it a premature bedtime..." You yawned. "Speaking of which, if you're so sure you can do it on your own, then I will be resting."

"Okay! Rest well, friend!" It waved. You returned the gesture, though with a noticable lack of care.

"Don't die."

❥︎┄┄┄★•´

Sunny was actually remarkably good with children. It handled them delicately, making sure none of them broke a limb, tending to their concerns, and playing with them until they were satisfied. It trotted over to you when the kids were all sleepy, bells on its shoes and around its wrist jingling.

"See!" It clapped. "I did a good job, right?"

"Yeah, sure," you trailed off, ignoring the sun thing to fall back asleep. "Good job or whatever...do it tomorrow, won't you?"

"I'd be de~lighted!" If it could, its smile would've gotten wider.

"Cool. Now, fuck off please..."

"Hey! That's not very appropriate, friend! There are children!" The sassy pose it took on was enough of a replacement for its inability to frown.

"Who cares? Their parents probably say it all the time around them."

"Still, it's no good!" It waved a finger scoldingly. God, it was a hunk of metal—surely you could dismantle it and throw it away...for good...

Oh, but your paycheck...damnit.

"I'm so sorry, Sunny, oh great pile of metal."

It stopped its funky movements, clearly either offended or saddened. Not that you cared either way. It stood still for a moment, then, as if deciding it had had enough of your bullshit, walked away and hid itself in a corner.

"What—"

❥︎┄┄┄★•´

But don't worry! You made up with him—yes, him, he had anxiously said, essentially, "hey please stop calling me a bunch of metal smashed together and treat me like a person even though I'm not," which you followed—and were the best of friends! Well, kind of. You tried being as nice to him as possible...but you were naturally mean-spirited, so you found that rather hard.

But you were...trying...your damn best! Hopefully that was good enough...

Anyways. Sunny took care of your workload for the most part—a huge relief for you, though there were some things he wasn't good at (such as math and science and language), so you ended up having to teach the kids those subjects. With that, you fell into a methodical process. Sunny drew, played hide-and-seek and tag, and did fun, random stuff with the children while you took on the burden of being their tutor, almost. Then, by night, Sunny would usher you out of the Pizzaplex, telling you not to overwork yourself and that you should leave your shift as soon as possible.

You weren't sure why exactly he was like that, but he was very insistent on keeping the lights off...so maybe he was just scared of the dark? An animatronic programmed with fears…that sounded really stupid to you, but it wasn't like this company was known for being very smart.

Well, whatever. You'd find out eventually. He couldn't keep secrets from his coworker forever.

[eclipsedcrystalstar]

More incorrect quotes cause Im bored

Characters: Sun, Moon, Solar, Bonnie, Monty, Freddy also Roxy appears for 1 singular one

There are ship quotes in this one, ik sometimes I dont include them

Moon: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car? Monty: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Sun, deer!" Moon: ...And what did Sun do? Monty: ...They said "Yes, Honey?

Moon: It's locked. You got a lock pick? Sun: Yeah- Solar: *kicks in the door*

Bonnie: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Moon: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus. Bonnie: Stop.

Sun: I creep around the house like a spooky little entity, standing in doorways and causing entire packets of biscuits to disappear in the night.

*The gang responding to being stabbed by a sword* Bonnie: Rude. Moon: That's fair. Monty: Not again. Solar: Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?

Bonnie: Solar doesn’t look very happy. Freddy : That's their happy. They're just a bitch.

Moon, randomly materializing out of a murder of crows with a slurpee in their hand: Hey guys, what's up? Four gators coalescing into the approximate human form of Monty, holding a gatorade: Not much, how about you? 5 wolves make their presence known with a piercing howl before joining in the circle. They clutter together, and take the form of Roxy with an iced coffee: 'Sup? Freddy, emerging from the back exit of Dairy Queen to take out the garbage: Uh... Uhhh... M-my boss said y'all aren't allowed to hang out back here...

Monty: Where's the most romantic spot for a first kiss? Wrong answers only. Freddy: Dueling grounds. Monty: I said wrong answers only.

Bonnie: My boyfriend can wear whatever he wants, 'cause I'm scared of him.

Freddy: Relationships should be 50/50. Sun cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Monty: *sees Bonnie and Moon together* Monty: They're cute. I would put them on a boat. Freddy : You mean... you ship them?

Freddy: I have a new hoodie. Sun: Wrong. Sun: We have a new hoodie.

Bonnie: Did you bring Monty? Sun, gesturing to Freddy : No, but I brought the next best thing. Bonnie: Freddy ? The next best thing would be Solar. Freddy : I would be offended, but Solar is freakishly strong.

Monty: I just accidentally prematurely sent an email to Moon... It was supposed to say "I am afraid that we will have to postpone our meeting", but I hit send when all it said was: Monty: Hi Moon, I am afraid

Moon: I will send my army to attack! Moon: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

[southern-god1]

Southern College Football Gods Part 1

I knew from the beginning that coming to this Halloween party was a mistake. I was a Yankee at a southern university, we fared best if we kept quiet and didn’t draw attention. And apparently, showing up at a college Halloween party dressed up as a zombie was asking for attention, at least in the eyes of the five football players who lazily wore their uniforms as costumes and had me surrounded not five minutes after I had arrived, immediately identifying me as what I was. The wore the white uniforms of the Florida Gators. I didn’t attend UF but went to Santa Clara’s, the smaller, catholic liberal arts university also located in Gainesville. „Look guys, a little Yankee thought he can show up at a party for real men“, one of them, with jersey number 7, said. „Please, I don’t want any trouble“, I said. „I can just leave if that’s what you want.“ „Leave? Fuck no, you need to be taught a lesson!“ he said and made a step towards me, eyes fixed on my face and hold out his gloved hands; one at the hight of his shoulder, the other around his stomach, palms facing each other.

Suddenly, I felt a light pressure on the top of my head, like I was standing in a room where I just fit between the floor and the ceiling. The football player grinned, then, slowly, very intently, he began to move his hands towards each other. Now I felt like I was clamped in a tightening vise. I gasped out as the pressure between my feet and my head increased. My breath became heavy and labored, and a yelp of pain left me. My knees gave and I fell to the ground, but that didn’t bring me any relieve, the pressure seemed to follow me. I felt incredibly helpless at the feet of the towering jocks who sneered at me. „What are you doing? Please make it stop, it hurts!“ I cried out, looking to No. 7, the one with the raised hands. It looked like there was some kind of invisible resistance that kept his hands apart, I could see his mighty arm muscles strain. „I’m taking you down a few notches, and I’m just getting started, bitch“, he sneered, gleeful about my suffering.  His muscles bulged as he moved his hands further together, and as the invisible and relentless forces that pressed me together seemed to almost double, I realized - the thing between his hands was me. As my eyes turned big, he laughed. „Yeah, now ya get it, huh, tiny yankee? I’m crushing ya together!“ He moved his hands closer and closer, relentlessly. I started to cry, but that just amused them - no. 7 seemed to be quite happy about the spectacle. „Hell yeah guys, watch this!“ he hollered. And then, when the pressure became unbearable, I felt how something in me gave. Suddenly, my entire body tensed up and coiled together. Muscles and bones seemed to pull together. The athletes surrounding me became even taller, and the floor got closer - no, I was shrinking, as I realized in horror when I looked up. The jocks jeered as I became smaller and smaller as no. 7 pushed his hands together, until finally, when I was maybe as long as an iPhone, he let them sink. The crushing pressure vanished, but my entire body felt tensed up and compressed. He kneeled down to me and grabbed me with his giant hand, rubbing my face with his thumb. The sticky material of his glove painfully tore at my skin all over my body. As he stood up, I felt sick with vertigo. „Let me down!“ I shouted. Then I screamed as he let me grabbed one of my ankles between his thumb and forefinger and let me dangle headfirst. The ground seemed 40, 50 meters away. „Do you think he’d die if I let him fall?“ he asked casually, and then, to my horror, he let loose. I fell towards the ground, screaming, but then his other hand plucked me out of the air mid-fall, his fingers squeezing me tight. „Let’s play some ball, guys!“ he shouted and threw me to one of his mates who caught me with both hands and squeezed me. What followed was pure hell. The threw me around from player to player. I flew from one squeezing hand to the other. Some of them swirled me around at a leg and then let loose, the swing throwing me to next player, others hold me horizontally like a football and threw me head first. Often they caught me intentionally late and let me fear crashing into the ground or a wall. One of them grabbed one of my hands and legs in each hand and threatened to tear me apart, not without giving me a little taste of how it would feel. „That’s enough, guys“ I heard a voice, and the guy’s throw was intercepted. The hand that caught me was covered in a glossy black glove, not a white one, and it was more gentle. Three new football players had appeared, but not in the white uniforms of the Florida Gators, but in the red and yellow of the Santa Clara Crusaders - my own college. I was in the hand of one of them now, no. 97.

„Get lost, this is none of your business“, No. 7 spat. „He goes to MY college, that makes him my business“, the guy holding me said and his grip around me got tighter. „He is OUR yankee.“ „Well, we caught him first“, another Gator said. „And now I caught him“, the Crusader answered, puffing out his chest. „You guys suck at passing, but we saw that last week already, didn’t we?“ They snickered, and the Gators seemed pissed. One of them made a step towards them. „Oh, you want to get him back from me? Go for it, give it your best try. But don’t cry if we kick your asses again, just like we did on the field last week“, he said casually. „Babyface here sure as hell seemed to enjoy when I rubbed his face into the mud“, another Crusader, wearing the number 85, snickered and flexed his hands and arms. My gaze wandered between the two groups. The Gators were in the majority, but they looked like freshmen - the three Crusaders seemed to be Juniors or Seniors, and all of them were taller and broader. There was a long, intense staredown that I would have probably found melodramatic and ridiculous if I wasn’t at the center of this quarrel and pretty sure that they’d rip me apart should they start to physically fight over me. „Whatever, let’s go, guys“, one of the Gators said eventually. „Fucking pansy nice guys“, No. 7 muttered as the group took off. „Yeah, that’s what I thought, piss off“ my captor said. Then he set me down on an armchair which was ridiculously big around me. He kneeled until his giant face was in front of my body. He had strong, angular features with a pointy chin and prominent cheek bones. He wore eyeblack in his face and a red band in his hair. „Alright lil guy, I’m going to get you back to size“, he said. I moved back as he made a fist and brought it close to my body, but he didn’t hit me. Instead, he slowly uncoiled the fist in front of me, and as his fingers relaxed, I felt the tension leave my body. I shuddered in pleasure as it happened, and I felt my limbs growing - and soon enough, I was back at my normal size, slumped together in the arm chair, surrounded by the three towering Crusaders. „Are you ok?“ No 97 asked and leaned down to me. I shrieked back into the chair as his mighty body came close to me. He might have helped me, but he was a ripped, uniformed athlete, and that one act of kindness didn’t erase my years of experiences with guys like him. „Hey, don’t be scared“, he said and tenderly touched my cheek with his big, gloved hand. „We’re not all like that bunch of brutish bullies. Come, let’s get you something to drink and go somewhere more private.“ He pulled me out of the chair and guided me through the room with a beefy arm around my shoulder. I was still quite exhausted and let him do. He intimidated me, but I couldn’t deny that something about him felt genuine and safe. He got me a cup of beer and moved us away from the crowd, into some hallway. „Drink“, he said. „Trust me, it will help against the dizziness.“   I took a sip, and he was right. The cold liquid made me feel better, stand a little safer on my feet. „Thanks“, I finally said. „Not just for the beer, but for… you know. Getting me out of this.“ „Sure thing“, he said, smiling. „Us Santa Claritans need to stick together, huh?“ he hold out his fist and I lamely bumped it. „How did you know that I also go there?“ I asked. „No chance I wouldn’t notice a cute lil guy like you“, he said and moved closer. I swallowed. „Thanks“, I said, blushing. „I noticed you too, obviously.“ I blushed even more. „I mean… you’re hard to miss, football player and all, and really hot…“ Jesus, why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? „Yeah?“ he said and moved even closer, caging me against the wall with his bulky form. I became very aware of his body, his size, the warmth he was radiating, and his smell: A mixture of fresh sweat and body wash, not unpleasant, in fact, it almost seemed intoxicating. „What’s your name?“ he asked, voice husky. „Alexis“, I said, voice barely audible. He radiated an enticing mixture of sex and danger - I was still very aware of the things he could do - it made me dizzy in a new way, but this time in way quite enjoyable. „I’m Jace. You see something you like, Alexis? Because I sure as hell like this“, he said and ran a finger down my face, throat and chest.Then he flexed his arm and smirked. „You wanna touch it?“ I reached out with my hand and felt the bulging, hard biceps under his smooth skin. Then I moved my arms around the arm, sliding them over the curves of his tight muscles. He pushed me against the wall by the chest, pressing me against it, and held his biceps in front of my face. „Go on, kiss it!“ I was aroused by the sudden manhandling, and went on to kiss and lick his mighty biceps while my hands started to roam his body. „Yeah, give my muscles some love“ he muttered, then he moved back a bit. Keeping me pinned to the wall with a forearm pressed against my collarbones, he used his other hand to lift up his jersey, revealing his killer abs. I looked at him like Christmas came early. „Yeah, you definitely like what you see“, he laughed cockily. He grabbed my hand in his huge gloved one and rubbed it over the ridges of his six pack. Then he removed his arm from my chest and moved his hand on my head. Gentle, but firmly he moved my head and body down. „I want you to kiss all six of them“, he said and moved my head towards his torso. I happily did what he said, kissing each of his huge, solid abdominal muscles - quivering under my touch - and licked the salty sweat out of the rifts between them. „Oh yeah, you love this, huh? Such a good little yankee.“ He moved me up again. „Now it’s your turn“, he said and moved my shirt up. He grabbed my waist with his huge hands, almost covering it completely. The black gloves were a stark contrast to my pale skin. „Look at this, you’re tiny“, he said. „Gotta be careful not to break you. But don’t you worry, I know exactly how to handle little guys like you“ he smirked and started to move his hands around my torso. The tight grip of the sticky gloves just felt amazing. When he reached my nipples, he started to tweak and pinch them, soft at first, but getting progressively rougher. I moaned and reached for his arms, but he grabbed both of my wrists with a single hand and pinned them above my head. Then he reached for my chin and angled my face up look into his eyes. My hands immobilized and my body caged between the wall and his massive body, I was completely under his control. „Do you want to submit to me?“ he asked, his voice a whisper, but clear and strong. „Do you want me to completely overwhelm you with my power?“ His hand on my chin started to move again, sensually roamed over my body. „Do you want me to breach you, crack you open? Trust me, you would love it…“ I was dizzy and aroused beyond limits, and what he said sounded enticing, indeed. But I wasn’t born yesterday. „You want to drain me“, I said, matter of factly. „Fuck yeah, that’s what I want. And you’d enjoy it. I would make it feel SO good…“ He lifted his knee between my legs. „You wouldn’t know what hit you. I can do it just once… Give you a taste of what it feels like, being raided by the power of a southern man. Or you can become my locker room slave. Join me for trainings and the games and I drain you during the breaks. Don’t you want to be part of something big? Standing on the sideline, knowing that it’s your energy that fuels this football god?“ I flexed his muscles again. „And I can protect you. I take care of my property, and so does the team. I’d mark you. Nobody would dare to touch you when you are wearing my number.“ Suddenly, he took two steps back. I almost whined at the lose of body contact. „But I won’t force myself on you“, he said. „I might drain and use you, but I do so with respect. If we do this, then it’s on your own volition. If you want, I can bring you to your dorm right now and leave you alone. And my mates will have a little chat with those douches that will make them stay away from you - at least for a while. But something tells me“, he smirked, „that that’s not what you want.“ „I… I…“ I whispered. I thought it over in my head. He had a point. He and his friends seemed orders of magnitudes better than the other assholes, and I needed protection. It was only a matter of time until some bully would decide to do god knows what to me. He was a known variable. An extremely hot known variable. „Yes?“ he said, stalking towards me, grinning. „I want it“ I said before I could think otherwise. „Hell yeah“, he said and was on me again in an instant. He shoved his hand down his tight football pants and massaged his bulge, then he retrieved it and pressed it into my face, rubbing his musk over my face. I became dizzy. „Nobody ever did this to you, right?“ he said, his huge hand moving to my throat possessively. „No“, I said. „Sweet“, he grinned. „Virgin Yankees are the best. Prepare to have your mind blown.“ He squeezed his hand around my neck and lifted his free arm to flex. Tentacles of a hot, viscous, sticky fluid seemed to roam my body from where he hold my neck, splitting and spreading, strong and unstoppable. I moaned in pleasure, as they seemed to stimulate my body wherever they went. But still, it felt somehow foreign, invasive and dirty, and something inside me tried to hold them back. „Yeah, try to resist, Alexis“ he said. „It feels so much better when I can break your defenses.“ He gave my neck another brutal squeeze, and the vigor of the tentacles seemed to double. I was overwhelmed by the feeling, the pleasure, I felt filled up and controlled. His raw, masculine force roamed my body and centered on three places: My head, my heart and my crotch. The tendrils seemed to circle them like packs of wolves, hungry and ready to pounce. „That’s your core“, he said. „I’m going to squeeze it now.“ He stopped flexing and wiggled the fingers of his free hand in front of my face. Then he pushed the hand into my pants and as his gloved fingers squeezed my dick and balls, the tendrils of his energy zeroed in on my core and crushed it. It was as if he released a vortex into my body. Waves of pleasure rolled through me and flushed away my energy. It drained from every bit of my body and flowed to Jace where he hold me at my neck and balls. His grip became tighter and tighter as the vortex spined faster, drained harder. I tried to fight it, but the drain was irresistible, and finally, I gave in. I felt my body and soul wilting under the intensity of his power. I couldn’t speak, could barely think - everything faded into pleasure and that ripping drain, like my soul was sucked into the vortex of his power, in free fall, spinning around. All I could feel where the steel grips of his gloved hands around my neck and genitals, everything else was fading away. And finally, when I thought I would pass out, I climaxed, and he released me. I sank to the ground as he roared in pleasure and strength, raising both his fists into a flexing pose. He kneeled down to me, taking my face in his two huge hands. „How are you feeling?“ „Week“, I said simply. „Hell yeah“, he laughed, „I did quite a number on you. We harmonize well, I got quite a lot. Did you like it?“ „Yes“, I said, smiling tiredly. „It was… so intense.“ „That’s good“, he said. „Alright, let me help you up. Let’s get you something to eat and to drink, you need it.“ He helped me up, threw my arm over his broad shoulders and half-walked, half-carried me back into the main area towards his two mates. „Of course“, No 81 said, with a mix of amusement and exasperation. „Our knight in shining armor at work…“ „Shut up, as if you wouldn’t have done the same“, Jace said and dumped me on the sofa between them. „Truth“, he got back. „Was it good?“ 89 asked. „Hell yeah“, Jace said and they high-fived. „Okay, look out for him while I fetch him something to eat.“ He took off. „Alright“, 89 said and threw an arm around my shoulder, „I’m Cole, and this“, he pointed at 81, „is Tyler.“ Both of them offered me their gloved hands and squeezed my hand. „I guess we’re going to see you more often now?“ „I guess“, I answered. „Welcome aboard then, lil man“ Tyler said and clapped me on the back. Jace came back. He managed to find a decent-looking hot dog and a bottle of water. „Take this“, he said. I gulped down the water and took a bite from the hot dog. I felt less groggy immediately, although I still needed a long night of sleep. „Fuck me, it’s those assholes again“, Cole said. And indeed, two of the Gators from earlier marched towards us, looking mighty pissed. „Should be fun“, Jace said. „Don’t worry“, he muttered into my ear and lay his arm around my shoulders. „You fucking kidding me?“ It was No 7 from earlier. „You act all high and mighty and then you drain him yourself?“ „I’m not acting high and mighty, I AM high and mighty“, Jace drawled as if this was all very boring to him and he wasn’t enjoying himself very much at this altercation. Even Cole and Tyler rolled their eyes. „He actually asked me, and who am I to deny him his wish?“ „Yeah, sure“ No 7 spat. „Tell you what, if you don’t bully and torment those beneath you, they will give you almost everything“, Jace said. „Watch this.“ He turned towards me. „What do you think, Alexis? Do you want to do this again?“ „Yes“, I said. It might not be the wisest decision of my life, but Jace had made me feel better than any drug ever could, and seeing the Gator’s dumb face alone seemed to be worth it. Jace grinned broadly. „Do you want to be my locker room slave?“ I looked into the flabbergasted, angry, dumb face of the white-clad asshole, than back at Jace. „Yes, I want that“ I said, looking into his eyes. „Awesome. You don’t happen to have some yankee black with you?“ he asked No 7 who sported an absolutely priceless expression. „I have it“, Cole said, annoyed, and hold out a small can. Jace screwed it open. It was filled with some kind of black paste. He took some on his finger, then, with his other hand, he moved my face to the side. „This is going to burn“, he warned, then he drew a black 97 on my cheek. Nothing happened for a moment, but then I hissed as the paint burned itself into my skin. „Done“, he said, rubbing over the tender skin. Then he got up and threw me over his shoulder like it was nothing. „I guess“, he told No 7, „I should thank you. You make living our way so much easier. All you assholes drive yankees in their masses into our strong, protective arms.“ He grabbed my ass. „Without you, I’d never met this one, so thanks for that. I’m sure he’s going to enjoy it when I use his energy to stomp you into the ground at our next game.“ He winked, then he began walking out, still carrying me over his shoulder. Cole and Tyler followed, and we made our way to the dorms. Not mine - the one for athletes. It seemed like I wasn’t going to use my room for a while.