#fargo imagine

[aestheticaltcow]

Pretty Girl (Gator Tillman x Reader)

Kinktober 2024

(Divider Credit @strangergraphics)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[allthingsfangirl101]

Rarely Stunned – Gator Tillman

Gator's POV

I've known Y/N all my life. To be fair, just because I knew her doesn't mean I was friends with her. We were in the same class all through school, but I've never had a real conversation with her.

Y/N was known in town as having the most beautiful voice. She sang in the school choir and the church choir. They begged her to do a solo when she was only 13. After that, the whole town fell in love with her. Every family wanted their son to marry her and every boy our age wanted to be with her. I was the only one that people thought wasn't into her, but that was a gigantic load of bullshit.

Of course, I was into her. She was the only one in school who didn't treat me weirdly because of my dad. She was sweet to me. She once told me that she didn't want me to become like my father. She believed I could be better.

I sat in my dad's car in the grocery store parking lot, waiting for him to hurry up and buy the beer. I sucked on my vape, blowing the air out the window. He hated it when I made the car smell like my vape.

My breath got stuck in my throat causing me to chock in the smoke in my mouth when I saw Y/N walking out of the store. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes as she went to her car. She opened the trunk and started putting bags in. Suddenly, a bag broke making her sigh. Her frustration made me jump out of the truck. I jogged over and started helping her pick up the items that fell.

"Thanks, Gator," she sighed. "But I can pick this up."

"I don't mind," I shrugged. "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

I looked up and smiled when she laughed. "Gator Tillman, a gentleman," she chuckled. "That's not something you here often."

"I'm not all bad," I mumbled. I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw the way she looked at me.

"I know that," she said gently. We had an intense staring contest until my dad interrupted it.

"Hey! Gator, get your ass in the truck!"

"Sorry," I mumbled. I cleared my throat before looking up at her. "It was good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," she blushed. "Thanks for the help, Gator."

When I got in the car, I turned to see my dad smirking at me. "What?" I sighed.

"Are you trying to steal Y/N away from that prick, Donny?" My dad laughed.

"What?" I scoffed. "One of her bags broke. I was just helping her pick up her groceries. I wasn't trying. . . Wait, she's dating Donny? The fucking water boy?!"

"Not for long," my dad said in a sing-songy voice. "Got get her, tiger."

* * * * *

The rest of the night, I couldn't stop thinking about Y/N being with that dweepe Donny. He wasn't good enough to play on the football team but the coach was secretly sleeping with his mom so he made him the waterboy. Y/N didn't deserve that nerd. She deserved someone who could take care of her. It made me so angry I got drunk.

I woke up to an immediate hangover. I sat up and slowly got ready for my shift. I went about the day like it was any other. Responding to random calls and vaping in between. That was until I got a certain call.

"We got a 417 in progress," dispatch said.

"Got it," I answered. "Where?"

They listed off the address, but something felt strangely familiar. I ignored it and drove to the address. When we went to the door, it was opened.

"That can't be good," I mumbled. We went in, guns ready. We went in different directions and swept the place, but it was empty.

Until I walked into the living room.

My stomach lurched when I saw her. Y/N was on the floor of the living room, passed out next to a destroyed coffee table. I felt like everything froze as I watched the puddle of blood slowly grow. I lowered my gun, unable to move.

"Sir, there's no one here." My partner's voice dropped when he saw her. "Except her," he said slowly.

I finally snapped out of it. I put my gun back in my holster and ran to her. I collapsed next to her, not entirely sure what to do.

"Get a medic!" I yelled. "Now!"

I turned back to Y/N, my eyes scanning her body. I carefully reached forward and moved some hair out of her face. The second I touched her, I felt how cold she was.

"Where the hell is that medic?!"

My breath got caught in my throat when I heard her groan. "Y/N?" I dropped my voice. "It's me. It's Gator. Open your eyes for me, Y/N. Please."

When she still didn't do or say anything, I continued, "You're safe. I swear, Y/N, I will find whoever did this to you and I will keep you safe. I promise. Just, please, wake up."

I held my breath as I waited. Finally, Y/N's eyes weakly and slowly fluttered open.

"Gator?" She said my name so weakly it broke my heart.

"I'm here," I said quickly. "I'm right here."

"Gator," she repeated my name.

"Medics are on the way, Y/N. They're close. Just hang on a little longer. Please."

Y/N reached for me and I instantly grabbed her hand. "Don't leave me," she said weakly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * * * *

I sat in the waiting room, nervously bouncing my leg. I kept glancing towards the door, wishing a nurse would walk through it with news on Y/N. I was ready to storm over to the nurses' station, flash my badge, and demand for them to tell me what was going on with Y/N. The second someone came out, I approached them.

"How is she?"

"She's awake," the nurse said kindly. "Follow me."

I was right at her heels as she walked down the hall. When she got to the door, she stepped aside.

"Go on in," she said. She smiled before lowering her voice and adding, "All she has asked for is you."

My heart jumped into my throat as she winked at me and walked back to the nurses' station. I took a shaky breath as I gathered my courage to open the door. I slowly put my hand on the handle and walked in. My breath got caught in my throat when I saw her asleep on the bed.

Y/N was covered in bruises and dried blood. She had an oxygen tube, the one that went into her nose, and an IV in her arm. Watching her sleep, my anger built. I didn't know who did this, but I knew what I would do when I found them.

Seeing that she was sleeping, I started to leave her room.

"Gator?"

I froze when she weakly said my name. I spun around, instantly making eye contact with her. I quickly walked over to her and sat on the extra chair in her room.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Tired," she tried to smile. "And sore."

"Speaking of which," I hesitated, "can I ask you some questions about what happened?"

"I guess so," she shrugged. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when she gasped in pain as she readjusted.

"We don't have to do this right now," I said quickly. "You should get some rest."

"It's fine," she sighed. "Ask away."

"Okay," I started. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was. . . I didn't. . . I didn't get the beer he liked."

"Wait, what?"

"I could only find. . ."

"Donny beat you because you brought home the wrong beer?! That son of a bitch," I yelled. I stood up and started running out of the room.

"Wait!" Y/N yelled. I froze in the doorway and turned around. She had tears streaming down her face as she opened and closed her mouth. "Gator. . . Don't leave me. Please. He could come back. . . Please stay."

I instantly returned to my seat and grabbed her hand. "I won't leave until you feel safe," I whispered. "I promise."

She smiled weakly at me before falling back asleep. Just like I promised, I stayed by her side until my dad walked in.

"What the hell. . . Ohhh." He started to get angry but laughed when he saw whose hospital room I was in. I let go of her hand, stood up, and turned around.

"The officers told me you went to visit the victim you found today while responding to that 417," he smirked. "I thought you were batshit stupid. But now? Now I get it."

"Dad," I sighed.

"It's a good plan," he interrupted me. "You found her, brought her here. Any girl would fall for the guy who. . ."

"Donny's the one who hit her."

The look on my dad's face changed. "Her boyfriend did this?" He asked under his breath.

"Yeah," I sighed. "He got angry because she bought the wrong beer."

"Wow," my dad scoffed. "He's. . ."

"A fucking asshole," I finished for him. "I swear, I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna shove my gun so far down his neck that he'll. . ."

"Calm down, tiger," he laughed. "I'll have some officers go pick him up and take him to the station. Then we'll help Y/N get a restraining order against the dick. And, if you want, I'll have my friends make sure he leaves this town and never comes back."

"What am I supposed to do?"

My dad looked behind me before putting his hand on my shoulder. "Why don't you tell the girl you've had a crush on since you could walk that you'll never hurt her and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe?"

"But. . ." I stuttered.

"Go show her that she can bring whatever beer she wants to your place," he smirked.

"Dad. . ."

"Tell her that she can have a better life with you." He patted me on the shoulder before leaving.

"Gator?"

I spun around to see Y/N awake. "Hey, you," I smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said slowly as she looked at the hallway. "Was that your dad?"

"Yeah," I said clearing my throat. "He heard what happened and wanted to know what he could do to help you."

"Really?"

"Of course," I said, walking over and sitting next to her.

She looked down and nervously played with her hands. I knew what question she was avoiding asking me. To help her, I decided to answer the unansked question.

"He's sending some officers to arrest Donny," I explained. "We know some people who can help you get a restraining order."

"That's not going to work," she said, her voice dropping.

"What do you mean?" I asked, scooting the chair closer to her bed.

"I've tried." When she looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. "He knows people, Gator. People. . . people on the police force."

"Who?" I asked through my teeth. I cleared my throat when I realized how demanding that sounded. "I mean. . . I can make it stick. If not, we'll just get rid of him."

"Wait, what?" Y/N panicked.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly. I cleared my throat and lowered my voice. "Listen to me, Y/N. He is never going to hurt you again. I swear."

"How can you be so sure?" She whispered.

I ignored the butterflies in my stomach as I reached over and gently grabbed her hand.

"I will not let him hurt you," I said as seriously as I could. "If he wants to get to you, he'll have to go through me."

"Gator," she whispered. "Why are you. . . Why would you do that for me?"

"Because," I stuttered, "you're. . . and I. . . Well. . ."

"Gator," she gently cut me off.

"I like you," I forced out. I watched as her eyes widened.

"You what?" She asked, her voice soft.

"I like you," I sighed, knowing there was no turning back. "I know this is horrible timing, but I've had feelings for you for such a long time. Donny doesn't deserve you, Y/N. To be honest, I probably don't deserve you either. But I can try. I can take care of you. I can protect you. I can give you a good life. I can. . ."

Y/N grabbed my face and pulled me toward her, bringing my lips to hers. As soon as our lips touched, I started kissing her back. Without breaking the kiss, I sat next to her on the bed. I pulled her into my arms, not wanting to let her go.

When we broke the kiss, we were both out of breath. "I'm sorry, Y/N" I mumbled. "Donny broke some of your ribs. You need rest. Not some guy climbing on top of you."

"I wouldn't object to a certain guy climbing on top of me," she giggled as she played with my shirt. She looked up at me through her eyelashes, making my stomach do flips. "Gator?"

"Yes?" I asked quickly.

"You promise you can protect me from him?"

My stomach sank at her question. I pulled her into my chest, wrapped my arms around her, and relaxed us into the bed.

"I promise to protect you from Donny and anyone else who tries to take you from me."

[stevesxyellowxsweater]

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

Waiting for Gator while he's in jail,

Helping him read braille,

Comforting Gator at moments when he is feeling weak,

Letting him hold your arm to guide him,

Gator holding you close when you sleep,

Helping him learn his way around the house,

Letting Gator learn your face,

Spending hours exploring each others bodies,

Having sex being a whole new experience,

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

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

Watching him learn and evolve,

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

Both of you becoming very vocal during sex,

Finding ways to help him become independent,

Comforting him through the grieving process,

Going with Gator to get a guide dog,

Long comforting cuddles,

Letting Gator rest his head on your lap,

Bringing him oatmeal raisin cookies,

Having Dot, Wayne, and Scotty round for dinner,

Building models of the area to help him get around,

Assuring Gator you love him no matter what,

Always buying him Mountain Dew and jerky,

Watching Scotty and Gator bond over music,

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

Having family dinners,

Always letting Gator know he's not worthless,

Him one day saying he loves you,

and meaning it.

view more characters here

[spookysteddie]

Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

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

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

wc: 3.7k

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

...

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

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

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

You. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?” 

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

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

… 

You were right. 

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

Nothing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffle, “is it just your face?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“P-please. Gator please.” 

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

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

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

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

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.” 

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

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

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

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…” 

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

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

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

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

It’s all you need to fall into bliss. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Idle Hands

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

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

Enjoy my little sinners!

WC: 1.6K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the same every Sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You better not make a sound.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's it huh?” He hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hears your words and grins once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kassy-munson]

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

[buckysgrace]

Corn Stalks

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Flufftober 2024

On your first date with Gator, you get lost in a corn maze. 

You had spent at least two hours getting ready, picking out the right outfit and struggling to find the correct way to style your hair and do your makeup. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date and wanted it to really go well, so you were a bit perplexed on what was enough and what was too much. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, but you certainly wanted him to know you were putting effort into this.

You’d met him at a bake sale, a fundraiser for a fallen police officer that he had sadly known. You hadn’t even thought about the circumstances of where he had asked you out, but you supposed it was sort of odd. Funny in some type of way.

You tried to distract yourself on your phone as you waited for him to arrive, your thoughts bouncing around loudly in your mind as you hoped he would be impressed with the way you looked. And your personality. You were nervous. 

“Hi.” You greeted him cheerfully as you shut the door behind you, feeling a little overdressed as you took in his cargo pants and camo hoodie. You stared down at your dress, hoping that your tights would keep your legs warm. 

“Hey,” He gulped, pulling his hands out of his pockets briefly as he glanced towards his truck, “Are you ready?” He asked, cheeks a little red although you wondered if that had to do with the sharp wind. 

“Yeah,” You smiled brightly as you hopped down the steps from your apartment, “I’m really excited.” You glanced towards him, briefly spotting his dark hair that was slicked back underneath his hat. You liked the shape of his nose and the curve of his lips. 

“I am too,” He breathed out softly, “I mean, I heard this was fun.” He said quickly, recovering as he pulled the truck door open for you. He held a hand out for you to take, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter as he helped you into the passenger seat. 

“I’ve heard a lot about this corn maze too,” You agreed with him, even though you had heard nothing about it, “I’ve never been to one.” You told him, fussing with the hem of your dress as electricity from where his skin had touched yours raced through your body. 

“Lucky me,” He smiled at you, “The food is really good too.” He added as he clambered inside, bearing a cheesy grin. He was so handsome. 

“It sounds perfect,” You told him honestly, a little surprised at the heavy music that poured out of his radio. It certainly wasn’t something that you had thought he’d listen to, “You look nice.” You told him truthfully, sitting on your fingers so he couldn’t see you mess with them.

“Yeah?” He turned towards you smugly, his lips curled into a soft grin as his eyes glanced over your body slowly, “You look like a peach.” He told you, making your insides burn in appreciation. 

“Thank you.” You bit back your giggles, crossing your ankles as you settled into a comfortable silence. You were trying to think of conversation topics to come up with, but nothing came to your mind at the moment. You figured it could wait, you had the rest of the night to talk his ear off.

The barn was just like in the cartoons, big and bright red. The gravel road was bumpy, but not dusty from the rain the previous day. You stared down at the heels attached to your shoes. You didn’t normally wear them, but you wanted to look nice. Now you wondered if they’d be muddy and gross by the end of the night.

“Are you hungry?” He questioned you as he tilted his head in a cute way, the setting sun shining against his tanned skin. You breathed in deeply. 

“Starving,” You replied as he finished paying for your tickets, “What do you like?” You asked him seriously, happy to have whatever he wanted. Even if you didn’t want to eat it. 

“Uh,” He stuck his hands back in his pockets as he glanced around, “I heard about this corn dog place over here.” He told you, making you peel your eyes away from the various scarecrows that were decorated as different horror villains. 

“Lead the way.” You told him honestly, adding a little hop in your step as he drifted towards the booth. He told you a bit about the past week at his work, then about how his horse was pregnant again. You thought that was sweet. 

His long fingers held onto the stick of the corn dog as he placed it in front of your eyes, making you gape a little at how thick it was. It had to be a huge hot dog. 

“What is it?” You asked him seriously as you examined the color, thinking that it was just a bit darker than usual. Not burnt, just different than what you were used to. 

“A uh, pickle dog.” He responded, laughing softly as he held it up to his mouth and took a big bite. You watched as he winced, steam rolling off of the corn dog as you got a better look at it. You’d never seen a hot dog shoved inside of a pickle before. 

“That sounds awful,” You teased him, “Let me have a bite.” You insisted, curious but also not wanting him to feel bad for his odd choice. At least he had been a gentleman and actually bought you something. 

“Well?” He asked as you munched off of the end he had bitten on, your eyes narrowing as the different flavors raced across your tongue. 

“It’s delicious.” You told him seriously, grinning as you took another nibble off of the end of it. He grinned at you, looking quite proud of his decision. 

“It really is,” He said with a laugh, taking it from you so he could take another bite, “It shouldn’t be.” He told you honestly, making you smile this time. 

“It makes no sense at all,” You agreed, “Probably wouldn’t go well with hot chocolate.” You hummed as the sign caught your eye.

“Who says we can’t try it?” He shrugged your shoulders, waiting for you to turn before he walked in you that direction. You followed gleefully, glad that you had been smart and packed gum with you. Just in case. 

You followed him around the trail after you’d had more than enough to eat. Gator definitely had an appetite, but you didn’t mind. It made you feel less odd about how much you were eating too. But you were stuffed and weren’t sure that a walk through corn stalks sounded very fun at the moment. But you were going to do it regardless. 

You learned quick enough that you had in fact overdressed. Your shoes certainly didn’t work well enough on the loose soil, constantly sinking deeper into the Earth and requiring Gator to free you more than once. You were almost certain it’d be easier to go barefoot at this point. 

“So,” You glanced at him curiously, “How do we get out of here?” You asked as you followed the dirt trail, careful to avoid tripping over any of the loose mounds. 

“Uh,” He came to a slow halt, “We keep going around this way.” He nodded his head, adjusting his hat for a second before he continued on. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him playfully, fully trusting his guidance. You certainly didn’t want to lead the way. 

“No fucking clue,” He admitted, laughing at the way your lips curled into a smile, “But I guess we’ll find out.” He pressed his vape to his lips, taking a deep inhale before he blew the smoke out. He handed it towards you and after a brief pause, you took his offer. 

The corn stalks were high past your heads as you seemed to venture deeper and deeper into the maze. You could hear other people around you, but you saw no one. Just you and Gator. It was nice, sort of peaceful.

“Have you done this before?” You asked him curiously as you went to the left once again. The rows of corn were growing thicker and taller, almost like you weren’t supposed to go this far out. 

“No,” He admitted as he glanced towards you, smiling sheepishly, “But I heard it was fun.” He added, making you feel a little better as you figured he must’ve been a little nervous for this date too. 

“Does anyone jump out at?” You asked, slightly serious as you observed him again, “Because I might need to hold your hand if so.” You teased, testing the waters as his cheeks turned pink. 

“You can hold my hand anyways,” He added, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal, “I don’t bite.” He nodded his head gently, making you bite back a giggle. 

“Shame,” You teased him playfully, enjoying the way his skin felt on yours as you linked your fingers together, “What else do you do, other than protecting our community?” You grinned, trying to flatter him up as best as you could.

You briefly glanced down, comparing the way his hand fit against yours. His palm was callused, his fingers long as he held your hand a little too tightly. Not that you really minded.

“I do a lot on my dad’s ranch,” He answered slowly, giving his shoulders a little shrug, “I like to go hunting.” He added as you nodded along, figuring as much. Most people around here enjoyed it. 

You took another sharp turn, only to come halt at the sight of long and thick rows of corn in front of you. No way to go through. You had reached the end of the trail. 

“Okay,” He came to a slow stop, making you raise your eyebrows, “I think we’re going the wrong way.” He bit his lip, dropping your hand softly as he turned and examined the way you’d come from. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, peeking your head around as you wondered if you were just supposed to push through to get to the other side. It had been so long that you couldn’t recall the rules. 

“I don’t hear anyone else.” He stated, making you nod in agreement as you listened for a second. He was right. No one else seemed to be around. 

“So what do we do now?” You asked, sort of dreading heading all the way back. You couldn’t remember all of the twists and turns anyways. You’d be stuck out here for hours. A great way to end your first date. 

“Follow our footsteps back this way,” He pointed out the faint lines from your shoes, making you wonder if you would’ve noticed them at all, “Good thing it rained.” He stated, leaving you in surprise. You were glad he was at least observant. You would’ve never thought of that on your own. 

“Yeah, good thing.” You agreed as you walked in the opposite direction with him, holding onto his other hand this time. He continually pointed out the shoe marks, telling you that it was a good thing to note in the back of your head. You listened the whole time, a little fascinated by the way his lips moved. 

You finally got on the right track, making it back to the actual trail as he guided you the rest of the way through. The actual maze didn’t take long to walk through. In fact, it had been fairly short. Maybe it was good you went in the wrong direction. 

“Sorry we got lost.” He told you sheepishly once again, but you shrugged your shoulders. His fingers were still linked with yours, giving you hope for another date. 

“Don’t be,” You smiled, your heart hammering roughly inside of your chest, “I had fun.” You told him honestly, half tempted to invite him over. 

“Maybe we can do this again?” He questioned you, eyes golden from the way the barn lights danced off of them. 

“I’d love to.”

[stellatekintsugi]

Joe Keery

[wroteclassicaly]

Gator vaping right after he eats you out, mouth still soaking wet with you.

“That’s fucking disgusting.” You’re swiping at the smoke cloud of acidic fruit, whilst simultaneously sliding your underwear back up your hips.

“What?” He’s responding, looking genuinely confused.

[dckweed]

➺ MASTERLIST

below you'll find a master list of my collective series of works on tumblr. currently, i'm only adding those that are specifically a series because those are the most that i get messages about and i have alot of singular posts and it would be too time consuming currently to go through and add them!

⤷ TOP GUN: MAVERICK (open for requests)

⤿ Jake 'hangman' Seresin

Sugar Sweet: one, two, three,

Babygirl: one, two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, (this series is also open for request!)

⤿ Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw

⤿ Robert 'bob' Floyd

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six,

⤿ Pete 'maverick' Mitchell

⤷ STRANGER THINGS (currently closed for requests while i catch up)

⤿ Steve Harrington

love grows: one, two

⤿ Billy Hargrove

I feel so stupid: one, two, three

Not parent friendly: one, two, three, four

⤷ FARGO

⤿ Gator Tillman

THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen,

TNTYK BLURBS: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

⤷ STAR WARS

⤿ General Hux

what was i made for?: taglist, one, two, three, four, five, six

⤷ BRIDGERTON

⤿ Benedict Bridgerton

tormented tragedy: taglist, one, two, three, four

⤷ THE VAMPIRE DIARIES & THE ORIGINALS (open for requests)

⤿ Elijah Mikaelson

Devilish Delights: one, two

[ssweetleaf]

bleed.

gator tillman x afab!reader

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

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

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

G.T.

[aestheticaltcow]

Birthday Blurbs: 06/07

Birthday girl :) @ Y/N

Expressing his feelings was difficult for Gator. Growing up with a parent like Roy and then feeling abandoned when Dot managed to escape left Gator feeling unlovable and unworthy. The night he met you, he felt a weight shift off of his chest. It was easy to talk to you, you accepted him for who he was and saw what kind of man he could be.

He wanted to make you feel as special and loved as you’d made him feel birthdays, anniversaries, or really just any day with you.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Coworkers With Benefits Part 2 – Gator Tillman

Part 1

I was slowly packing my bag when there was a soft knock on the door. Before I could tell them to enter, the door opened. I turned around and instantly smiled when I saw Gator peeking his head in.

"Hey, you," I chuckled.

He walked in and instantly took me in his arms. I smiled as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was a lot shorter than I'd have liked.

"Hey, gorgeous," he whispered as he broke the kiss. "You ready to get out of here?"

"Hell yeah," I smirked. I stepped out of his embrace and grabbed my overnight bag. I let out a half-giggle, half-sigh when Gator instantly reached over and took my bag.

"Don't even try arguing with me," he chuckled. I just laughed as he grabbed my hand and led me out of the hospital room. When we got to the elevator, Gator pulled me inside. After the doors closed, he turned toward me and stepped closer to me.

"Things are going to be different," he whispered. "I promise, Y/N. No more sneaking around. No more covering up. No more lying."

"But what about. . ." I started to ask.

"I don't care what everyone at the precinct says," he cut me off. "I don't care what my father says. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to keep us apart."

Before I could say anything, Gator leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I threw my arms around him and kissed him back. We didn't break apart until the elevator doors opened. He instantly grabbed my hand and led me through the lobby. I didn't say anything as we walked to his car.

We got in and he instantly started driving. It took me a few streets before I realized he was taking me to my house. He parked in my driveway and escorted me inside. We settled in for the night. I took a shower to wash the hospital off of me while Gator made us something to eat.

While I was in the shower, I couldn't help but think about me and Gator. Our whole relationship has been a secret and I wasn't entirely sure what to expect now that it was out in the open. Even though we snuck around, whenever we were alone Gator acted like an actual boyfriend. He was sweet and caring and supportive and perfect. I really hoped that that version of Gator would start coming out more.

I walked downstairs in shorts and one of Gator's graphic t-shirts that he left at my place. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Gator making sandwiches. He turned around and instantly froze when he saw me.

"Damn," he said under his breath. "Why the hell did I hide you?"

"I don't know," I said faking innocence. "Maybe you didn't want someone else to steal me?"

Gator walked over, closing the gap between us. When he got to me, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.

"That's for sure," he said under his breath. I giggled as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips instantly started moving in sync as things slowly started getting more heated.

Gator picked me up and carried me to the couch. He sat down and put me on his lap. Without breaking the kiss, Gator laid us down with him hovering over me. We were just about to start removing our clothes but his phone started going off.

"Sorry," he sighed. He gently sat us up and sat me next to him. He kissed me before jumping up and answering his phone.

I stayed on the couch as Gator talked to whoever had called him. When he returned, he was carrying two plates with the sandwiches he was making earlier.

"Thanks," I smiled as he handed me one of them. "Who was that?"

"My dad," he explained as he sat next to me. "He wanted to make sure we had gotten to your place safely. He's sending a patrol car."

"Wait, what?" I stuttered. "Why would he do that?" He looked at me, the look in his eyes softening.

"I'm going to have a police car right outside."

"For how long?" I stuttered through my confusion.

"The next couple of days," he shrugged. "Maybe two weeks."

"Gator," I sighed. "That's a waste of police resources."

"I don't care," he snapped. He sighed and softened his voice. "I'm sorry, baby. I can't let anything else happen to you so I will do whatever it takes to prevent that. As long as it works and you're safe, I don't care about the resources, the money, or the effort."

Without looking at me, Gator reached over and took my hand. It felt like someone squeezed my heart as he intertwined our fingers. "I can't lose you, baby," he said, his voice soft.

"You won't," I said, softer than I had intended. He finally looked up at me and it almost looked like he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm going to make sure I don't."

* * * * *

Over the next couple of days, Gator has insisted on staying at my place. He was forced to go to work the day after he brought me home, but he constantly checked on me. He called me as soon as he got to the station. He called me before he went on his rounds. He called me on his way to my place for lunch. He called me the minute he got back to work after lunch. He called me before he left for the night.

While he was gone, I kept my doors locked and tried to keep myself as busy as I could. I cleaned my house from top to bottom. I organized and reorganized every room. It got to the point where I was completely stir-crazy. Tired of sitting around and doing nothing, I grabbed my purse and keys.

The second I walked outside, the cop who was sitting in the car out front ran up to me.

"Umm, Ms. Y/L/N?" He said, nerves clear in his throat. "Where. . . Where are you going? Deputy Tillman doesn't want you leaving. . . Alone. He doesn't want you. . ."

"I just need to get out of my house for a little while," I said to try and calm the nervous officer.

"I'm really not supposed. . ."

"I'll be fine," I tried to calm him again. "I'm going to the precinct anyway."

I didn't give him a chance to refuse or demand that he take me. I got in my car and, just like I promised, headed to the precinct. When I walked in, I got nothing but stares. Nobody said anything as I walked toward Gator's office. I stood in the doorway and watched as he searched through a file.

He looked up and froze when he saw me. He dropped the file, jumped to his feet, and ran over to me. I smiled when he wrapped his arms around me, picking me up off of my feet.

"Gator," I giggled. He put me down and I could tell he wasn't happy with me. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but I wasn't fast enough.

"What are you doing here?! You're supposed to be at home. Safe. With a police officer outside. Is he not there? How did you walk right past him and he didn't notice you? What the hell was he doing instead of watching your house? I swear, I'm gonna. . ."

I cut him off by grabbing his face. I didn't say anything at first. Instead, I leaned in and gently pressed my lips to his. I felt him sigh before he started to kiss me back. We broke the kiss, both of us out of breath and with naughty smirks on our faces.

"I thought we had a deal not to make out at work," Gator said, his voice suddenly deep and rough. I loved it when he used this tone.

"Sorry," I whispered innocently. "You were getting all fiery. The only thing I can do to extinguish that fire is to kiss you."

"All that does," he said somehow deeper, "is make me even more frustrated."

"Oops."

"Naughty girl," he laughed. His eyes suddenly softened. He reached up and gently dragged his finger against what was left of the bruise on my face.

"Gator," I started.

"I can't leave you," he said under his breath. "Ever again."

"But Gator. . ."

"This is real now," he said, his tone of voice changing again. "You and me. We're real. Which means it's my job to protect you. Especially from the no-good druggies in this town."

"Baby," I whispered. "You already found the guy responsible for hurting me. You've done a great job of protecting me."

"I love you, Y/N."

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. "I love you too, Gator," I whispered.

He cleared his throat, pulled out of the hug, and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you wouldn't come back for another couple of weeks."

"I know," I sighed. "But I am going crazy at home, baby. I've cleaned my house from top to bottom several times. I've reorganized everything. Please let me come back to work."

"But. . ."

"I'll be safe here," I said quickly. "Cops, all with guns, will be around me from the minute I get to work to the minute I go home. Honestly, Gator, this is probably the safest place for me. Plus, I get to see you a lot more."

Gator studied me. He then looked around the station, clearly overthinking this. I grabbed his hand, making him look back at me.

"I will be perfectly safe here, Gator," I whispered. "Because you're here."

* * * * *

After a lot more negotiating, Gator finally agreed to allow me to come back to work. There were, of course, specific rules we both had to follow if I was going to come back.

He would drive me to and from work every day.

I wouldn't go out for lunch unless he was with me.

He'd check in on me constantly.

I was to answer whenever he called.

The rule he put the most emphasis on was that if I ever felt unsafe or uncomfortable by someone who was arrested, I was to let him know. If I was ever nervous, he'd rush the process to make sure the guy was as far away from the front desk as possible as soon as possible.

After we went to lunch, I went back home while Gator finished his shift. That night, Gator came over and brought dinner. As we ate, he went through the rules to calm him down more than reassure me.

"Gator," I interrupted his third run-through of our normal day-to-day caseload. "I'll be fine. I've worked at the station for a year and a half. I'm well aware of the dangers of a police precinct."

"I know but. . ."

"Baby," I sighed, "now that we're no longer hiding, people know that you'll protect me. What that guy did. . . Hurting me to get to you. . . It was stupid. I doubt someone will be that stupid again."

Gator looked up at me, studying me before finally sighing. He reached over and grabbed my hand. I smiled softly as he intertwined our fingers.

"I never should have let him get close to you," he whispered. He paused before adding, "And I never should've made you think I didn't want people to know about you. The only reason I wanted to keep us a secret was because I was afraid of what people would say about us."

"Gator," I tried to interrupt him but he shook his head.

"You're too good for me," he continued. "You're too good for the station. You should be working somewhere safe."

"Will you protect me?" I asked, clearly surprising Gator.

"Of course," he said quickly. "I'll always protect you, baby."

"Then I have no reason to be scared."

He sent me a playful glare before quickly breaking. Without another word, Gator got up from the table and grabbed my hand. I let him help me to my feet. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around my waist. Without breaking our eye contact, I dragged my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You are absolutely right," he whispered. "You, my darling Y/N, have nothing to be scared of. Not as long as I'm here."

[spookysteddie]

Tillmans Girl

18+ Minors DNI

cw: stripper reader, drinking, drug mention, murder mention, oral (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, pet names, slight choking, hair pulling, exhibitionism, biting. (Let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.9k

A/n: this is based off of the song Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain (pre warned about this here) and I need to make it very clear that this is LOOSELY based off of the song. It’s more about how I feel while listening to it and how I fit the reader and Gator into this. I also let Gator have some friends because he needs them for the story purpose. I love the concept I came up with and I hope you do too! 

A/N 2: friendly reminder this is fiction and half the shit in here wouldn't happen IRL. ❤️

… 

He was here again. 

Sitting in his usual spot, surrounded by his friends and drinking shit beer. And he’s watching you, like he always does. Like he has since he first came in here a little over a year ago, dressed in his sheriff's uniform to investigate a murder. 

And now, he’s here every Saturday, just watching. He isn’t the first guy to come to this club for you. He isn’t even the tenth. But he doesn’t speak to you like the others do, not more than he needs to and typically you’re the one to instigate the conversation. 

Gator Tillman has a pull to him, like he’s the sun and you're a planet in his orbit. You don’t know why he makes you feel the way he does, like you need to touch him. Every time you meet his eyes, he’s already looking back at you. It is unnerving but yet you look forward to Saturday nights. Look forward to the attention (and money) he gives you. 

Even an hour outside his home town everyone knows who he is, of course they do, half their parents voted for his father. Plus, you’ve all heard the stories about the Tillmans. You knew what you were dealing with when he came in. The other girls are afraid of him, though. They’re sure to make his and his friends drinks correctly and letting them all break a few rules, like touching the dancers. But not you. Gator Tillman didn’t scare you like he should, mainly intrigued you. It’s been a year of this cat and mouse game. You the cat, him the mouse, toying with him in the hopes he’ll ask for more time with you. 

His friends do get dances, most of them picking a new girl every week and tipping them well. But not Gator. The girls have tried to get him to buy dances from them, but he always brushes them off. All while staring at you. You’d never offered, again letting him come to you. But you also didn’t do private dances. You made most of your money on the stage, not really feeling like killing someone if they got handsy with you. 

Tonight though, was different. 

You could feel it in the air the second you saw him. The charge was there as usual, but when you handed him a drink after your stage time, he spoke to you. 

His voice was like silk as he spoke, pushing his dark sunglasses onto the back of his hat. It was night time so he kind of looked like a douchebag with them on. He didn’t care. He was a Tillman, just as cold blooded as his father, if not more. Obsessed with his power and the way people fell at his feet, gave him whatever he wanted. 

But not you. 

Never you. 

“You look very nice in red, sweetheart.” It takes you by surprise but you do well to not show it, a practiced mask. Never has he spoken to you for more than a drink order. 

You did, however, look nice in red. But it was rare you wore it because you didn’t need to give the men more reasons to want to touch you. You made plenty of money in any other color. Red, also was the color of the invisible blood that stains your fingers. The blood you can’t get off no matter how hard you try.

You put on your prettiest smile, “that’s very sweet of you.” 

A small smile tugs at his lips. He’s fucking beautiful and it’s painful to look at him, actually. 

“You do dances?” The question takes you by surprise because, like you said, he doesn’t get dances from the girls. He just drinks and tips very well. 

You cover it well, “only for you.” 

It’s not a lie. You would do dances just for him, any reason to get him closer. To get him alone. 

He nods, “how much?”

You smirk, “$350.” That was way more than the other girls charge. It’s North Dakota, it’s rare the men here can afford that. 

But he can. 

“Deal.” You watch as he pulls the money from his pocket, counting it out and handing it to you. 

You count it again just to be sure, slipping it in your top, “follow me, pretty boy.” 

He takes his drink and downs it before getting up and following you. He walks with confidence but you know better. He’s nervous, you can see it in the slight tremor of his hand. You decide you’ll let him break the rules, but not because he’s Roy Tillmans son. 

No, it’s because you have wondered for months what his hands feel like on your skin. You’ve also wondered what it would be like to get him in your bed; what he sounds like when he fucks. You know he’s more than experienced considering people like to talk. But you want to see it for yourself. You need to experience it for yourself. 

You take him to one of the private rooms, the red room considering he likes you in red. He sits down tentatively, running his hands down his jeans. He’s so hot when he’s nervous. It makes you smile as you shut and lock the door. 

The music is a little quieter in here, the small knob on the wall allowing you to turn it higher or lower. Some of the girls don’t like these rooms, scared they’ll get hurt by the men they bring in here. It’s understandable, most opting to give them in the room where extra security is.

But Gator would never hurt you. 

“Surprised you asked for this, pretty boy.” 

He takes a deep breath and leans back, “like I said, look nice in red.” 

You slowly walk over, standing between his spread legs, “too kind to me, Tillman.” 

He balls his fists as he tries to respect the law of not touching strippers. But Gator was the law, he could do whatever he wanted. His father would get him out of any shit he gets himself into. Either way, you’d let him touch you in any way he wants. 

You bend at the waist, running your hands up his thighs. His breath hitches a little and it makes your stomach flip with satisfaction. He’s affected by you, you’ve known this for a while. But the verbal confirmation makes your head spin. 

Your hands slide over his stomach and onto his shoulders, pushing off his black leather jacket. “Let’s take this off and get comfortable, yeah?” He lets you take it off and toss it to the side. His black shirt grips his body perfectly, showing off his muscular build. 

You stand back up to your full height, turning the music up just slightly, enough for you to hear him if he decides to speak to you. And then you go back to him, dipping low and letting him run his eyes all over you. For once it makes you feel sexy. Maybe it’s because Gator isn’t an animal. He’s respectful. Or, well, as respectful as one can be in a place like this. 

You look up at him through long lashes as you straddle his hips, being careful not to let your centers touch. You don’t want to force anything on him, scare him away. But you do run your hands up his arms, putting his hands on your hips. 

“Can touch me. You’re the exception to that rule,” you giggle and wink at him. 

You can see his confidence starting to rise. Typical man who just wants to feel special. Gator, though, deserves to feel special. You didn’t grow up with him, between living one town over and your parents opting to send you to private school. But people talk. You know about the shit his dad does, how he uses religion and intimidation to keep his son in line. It was sick. 

He grips your hips, guiding you down to grind against him. He’s hard, of course he’s hard, all of them are. They can try all they want but their cocks have a mind of their own. You can tell he’s worried about it, about how you’ll feel. You don’t care. You never care. In fact, the friction on his hard cock on your clit feels… nice. 

“Why am I the exception?” 

You grin down at him, hands by his head on the couch, “use your big boy brain and think about it.” 

He laughs a little, “cause you’re afraid of me?” 

That makes you throw your head back and laugh hard, “oh, pretty boy, neither you or your daddy scare me. In fact, I’d be more than happy if you put me in cuffs.” 

He’s taken by surprise at your admission, shuddering a little, “should be ‘fraid of me.” 

You stand, turning the lights a little lower, “it’s you who should be afraid of me.” 

You can still see him, even in the dim, red lights. Fuck he was so beautiful. You start back your dance, his eyes still looking over your body. 

“I ain’t afraid of anything, angel.” 

You know that’s a lie. He’s terrified of his daddy, and everyone is afraid of death. But you brush it off, getting so close to him you could kiss him if you wanted. And you do, but you won’t let him know that. Not yet. 

“You, Gator Tillman, are the exception because everyone here thinks you’re so pretty.” 

He raises a brow, “pretty? Not the word that should be used f’me.” 

You shrug, “agree to disagree.” 

“I was told ya don’t do dances,” his voice is gravely and you know he’s doing everything he can to not kiss you. “Decided to ask anyway.” 

You pull back settling in his lap, not dancing anymore, “I don’t, but like I said, you’re the exception.” 

He hums, letting his hand run up your thigh, “I’m honored. Prettiest girl in this building.” 

“Flattery, Tillman, won’t get you much round here.” 

He smirks, the look making you want to kiss him just a little more, “will get me the ability to take ya home?” 

You think the shots he took some time ago are finally hitting him. Or he’s snorted some cocaine and it’s just hitting him. Probably the former. 

“M’not supposed to go home with the customers. Sorry, pretty boy.” 

Not a lie. You aren’t supposed to go home with the men here, both for fear of being murdered and because it can cause issues for the owner. The girls too, of course. God forbid you date a patron and then break up. It’s just awkward for everyone here. 

His hand slides further up your leg, resting right under the crease of your ass. Men have been killed for touching you there without asking. But this time it doesn’t make your blood boil like it should. It makes your stomach flip and your heart race. 

“I’m the law, baby. The rules don’t apply to me,” he’s looking up at you with big brown eyes, though they look black in this light. 

The rules don’t apply to him, you told him as such earlier. You remind him as such and he squeezes your hip. You swallow the squeak that threatens to come out, instead moving to straddle him once again. 

“Come on, baby, we’ve been playing this game for a year. Come home with me.” 

You swallow. You would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to go home with him. To let him get the rest of your clothes off and fuck you. For him to slide his cock down your throat while you’re on your knees. 

You know it would feel good. You know you’d enjoy whatever he threw at you, enjoying men who are rough but respectful. And by the feel of the hardness nestled on your clothed core, he could throw a lot at you. 

You can feel your mouth water at the idea of what he looks like under his pants. But he’s going to have to work harder if he wants you to go home with him. 

“Gonna take more than that to get me in your bed, Gator.” 

He thinks, hands roaming to grab the fat of your ass, “I could give you everything, angel. Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You giggle a little, “yeah? Anything?” 

He nods, licking his lips, “anything. I’d give you anything. Could treat you real nice.” 

“How do you know I don’t already have someone treating me real nice? Hmm? Bold of you to assume I’m single,” you raise a brow at him. You’re lying through your teeth, making him work for it. 

“Trust me, baby, I know you’re single.” His eyes fall from yours to your lips and back. 

You get a little closer, his scent masculine and woodsy, “doing research on me?” 

That should be creepy, it should result in a knife in his neck (it might’ve happened a time or two..) but not with him. However, you know why he did the research. He had to after the murder last year, to rule you out as a suspect. 

“I did. So, you can’t lie ya way out of it. Lemme treat you right, pretty angel.” 

“I’m no angel,” your voice is just above a whisper, enough for him to hear you. 

He laughs, “agree to disagree.” 

He slides his hands to your hips, squeezing gently. 

“And if I say yes to goin’ home with you? Will you hurt me?” 

“No more than you ask me to.” 

You decide you can’t take it anymore, needing him too much. You’ll curse yourself later for folding too easily. You close the gap, a whole year of the chase coming to a head. The second your lips connect with his you feel like you’re on fire. He kisses you softly, nervously and it isn’t till your tongue begs for entrance into his mouth, that he kisses you harder. 

His hands are all over you, running up your sides and letting his fingers tangle in your hair. You rock your hips absentmindedly, needing more friction. 

Gators lips move down your throat, kissing and nipping at the skin and making you moan. He smirks against you and gently lips his hips to add more pressure. Fucking asshole. You grab his face, pulling him back to your mouth, your tongue licking into his mouth. 

He pulls back first, breathless, “I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Your stomach flips again because you love when a man begs for you. Especially men in powerful positions. You feel his confession right in your core. 

“A Tillman begging? What would your daddy say about this?” You’d never say a word to his daddy about this, of course. Roy Tillman can kiss your ass. 

Gator, of course, also knows this, “I don’t care what he’d say. He doesn’t need to know what I do when I’m off work.” 

You smirk, you’re more than willing to let him inside you. But first, you needed to see what you were working with. You slither to your knees, looking up at him, “this okay?” 

He nods, only giving you a verbal answer once you lift your brows, “yes. Please.” 

Your hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and popping the button of his jeans. You can feel his cock jump in his pants and you swallow down a giggle. It’s cute how excited he is actually. You’d be a liar to say you aren’t excited. It’s been a while since you had sex with someone and it’ll be the first time you’ve fucked someone at your job. You’re glad there are no cameras in this room because you’d absolutely get fired. 

You pull his jeans and boxers down till they puddle at his feet, allowing his cock to spring free. You can’t contain your reaction to the sight of his cock. He’s huge, his cock thick and has a slight curve. It’s beautiful and you feel dumb admitting that to yourself. It’s not the first you’ve seen but it’s definitely the prettiest you’ve seen. 

“Wow…” you whisper it but you know he heard you by the smile that spreads across his face. 

“You like it?” He’s cocky and it’s clear you aren’t the first girl to react this way. 

You just nod, gently gripping it in your hand. The weight of it makes your mouth fill with spit. You lean forward, licking a long stripe up it. He lets out a long moan, his head falling back against the couch. 

You smirk to yourself before taking him into your mouth. You work slow, making sure your throat is relaxed. You bob your head slowly, looking up at him as you work and for the first time he’s not looking back at you. He looks so pretty like this, head thrown back, hands balled into fists. 

“Fuck… this is s-so much better than I imagined,” his voice coming out rough and strained. 

You just moan against him, bobbing your head a little faster and taking him a little deeper. He hits the back of your throat and his head snaps down to you. The second your eyes meet his cock jumps in your throat, making you gag slightly. 

“Ah! That’s it, baby,” his hands fall into your hair, pulling and pushing you into his cock. 

You can’t help the moans that leave you from the pain of his hands in your hair. You know your cunt is soaked, your clit throbbing. So, you take him deep and hold him there, letting spit drool from your mouth and onto what you can’t fit in your mouth before pulling off of him. You lick your lips as you stand and straddle him. 

“How bad do you want to fuck me?” You kiss him lightly, just a taste. 

He takes a shaky breath, “s-so bad. Been thinking about it since the first time we met.” 

You pull your panties to the side, settling down so he’s resting against you. The head of his cock bumps your clit the second to start to rock your hips. The friction feels incredible against your aching clit. 

You need more but you’re trying not to rush it. 

“Been thinking about being inside me for over a year huh? Such restraint you have, pretty boy.” 

He shakes his head, letting out a small grunt, “I-I didn’t. S’why m’ here every Saturday. Gotta get my fill of ya for the week.” 

“Yeah? You sound a little obsessed.” 

He nods, “j-just a little.” 

You sit up on your knees using your hand to steady his cock and look up at him, “you still want this? You can say no and it’ll be fine.” 

He shakes his head so fast, you’re worried he’s gonna get whiplash, “no! Please fuck me. Please. Need it so fuckin’ bad. B-but I didn’t bring a condom with me. I-I’m clean I swear. I-If that ain’t okay I’ll survive. But I really wanna fuck you.”

You kiss him softly, loving the consideration and to stop his rambling, “I’m more than clean and I’m on birth control. Is that okay? Still wanna continue. I do if you do.”

He lets out a breath and relaxes, “that’s fine. I promise.” 

It’s all the conformation you need before slowly sinking down on him. All you have inside you is the tip and already the burn hurts so good. Gators hands grip your hips, mouth falling open as he helps you sink down more. 

“Oh my god, Gator,” you feel like he’s in your throat and you don’t even have him all the way inside you. He’s everywhere all at once and you love every second of it. 

Gator pulls you down more and captures your lips in a deep kiss. And then, he thrusts up inside you, seating himself fully inside your tight pussy. The action pushes all the air from your lungs, making you pull back from the kiss. You decide then that if you died this way, you wouldn’t be pissed. 

Even if God decided to bitch about all the sins you’ve committed.

That is, if you even go to heaven. You doubt you will at this point. 

Whatever. 

Gator stays still, letting you adjust and letting you rest your head on his chest to catch your breath. It’s slow to come back but once it does, you lift yourself and slam yourself back down. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” He’s loud and you're glad the club is loud enough that no one can hear you. Not that you’re opposed to that, but again, people like to talk and you aren’t keen on ending up in an unmarked grave. Gators daddy would kill you if you spread rumors that make Gator look like the sinner he is. 

You do it again, finding a rhythm, “you like that, pretty boy?” 

You slide your hands into his hair, loosening the strands there with a hard tug. He groans, his hips bucking up and hitting against your cervix. You’ll probably be bruised there tomorrow but that’s not your issue at the moment. 

The curve of his cock hits your sweet spot perfectly, making you whine and ride him faster. 

“Uh-huh. S-so tight and warm and perfect,” he’s rambling but it’s cute. “D-didn’t think we’d ever do this.” 

You smile, pulling a little harder at his hair, strands falling loose from their usually gelled place. “Paid me a lot of money, baby. Gotta treat you special.” 

“I-isn’t that prostitution?” He pushes out a breathless laugh. 

You can’t stop the giggle that comes out of you either, “maybe. But only if we say it is. I was j-joking.” You lean forward, changing the angle to hit that spot a little harder, “dedication got you here. And of course you’re so pretty. Prettiest boy.” 

Gators hand slides from your waist and finds your clit with ease, thank god. He uses his thumb to draw small circles, making that coil grow tighter and tighter. 

“Keep calling me that and I’ll cum before you do. C-can’t have that.” He plants his feet and sets the pace. He fucks you hard and fast. It feels so fucking good and you know this isn’t the last time you’ll be doing this. 

Can someone get addicted to another's cock? 

Yes is the only right answer considering how all you can think about is Gators cock and chasing your orgasm. 

“Such a gen-gentleman, Gator.” 

“Only for you, angel. Only for you.” 

The band inside you snaps, your orgasm slamming into you hard.

You cry out, leaning forward to bite Gators shoulder and muffle your screams. That is what pushes Gator over the edge, emptying inside you. Thank god for birth control. You both deflate, him growing soft as your cunt spasms with aftershocks. 

Gator breaks the silence first, “gonna let me take you home and take care of you?” 

It makes you laugh but you do think about it, weigh the pros and cons. “If I agree, you can’t ever come back here again. S’a rule not to date our customers.” You sit up so you can see his face, judge his reaction. 

A slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face, “deal! Won’t need to see you here when you’re coming to sleep in my bed.” 

All you can do is laugh and kiss him, deciding this time, you won’t have to murder a man you dated. 

[stardancerluv]

The Past Follows Like a Shadow

—So here is my AU to Gator Tillman. It will follow the season with some changes! Enjoy!

Quick note…I always enjoyed Joe Keery as Steve Harrington…always read amazing fanfics centered around him. But then I watched Fargo and I jumped into the Gator Tillman fandom with both feet.

This guy deserved better despite being a complete asshole jerk…ok…asshole at times!

Like always, ❤️s, comments, feedback & reblogs are always welcome!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven (coming soon)

[starksbabie]

The Ink That Binds Us - Chapter 5

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Summary: In the weeks following your heat Roy has been keeping Gator extra busy, so you're missing your Alpha. Gator takes it upon himself to make sure you know he'd do anything for you, give you anything you want because you are his.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmates AU, A/B/O, smut, 18+ mdni, soulmates have matching tattoos, Gator Tillman (he’s his own warning). p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, reader takes a pregnancy test, use of pet names.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: It's here! Sorry for the delay I have been wrapped up in a Prince Steve AU so be on the lookout for that coming soon!

Once again, you woke up alone in your nest. It has been two weeks since your heat, and you’ve barely seen your new mate. 

Gator slinks out of bed before dawn, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before he goes, and does not return until long after dark if he returns at all. 

Sometimes he’s been opting to stay at his father’s ranch since most of his belongings still reside there, and it leaves him closer to be at Roy’s beck and call. 

You climb out of bed to begin your day, heading to the kitchen and wondering if Gator even made it home last night. 

Blossom 🌸 8:02 am: I miss you. The nest is beginning to smell wrong. Like you’re missing. 

His reply comes just a few minutes later. 

Gator 🐊 8:09 am: Dad’s got a lot going on so I have to be in charge for a while. I’ll be home for dinner tonight. I promise. 

You smile and bounce on the balls of your feet looking around the kitchen, you’re going to make the best dinner you can, your alpha’s been working hard. He deserves this. 

Gator pulls into the drive long after dark. He’s absolutely, overwhelmingly, exhausted, but he’s surprised to see lights still on in the house. Usually, you’ve been asleep for hours by this point. That’s when he remembers. He promised to be home for dinner. 

“Shit.” He curses under his breath. 

He hops out of the truck and quickly walks up the path, jumping the stairs before letting himself in. 

What he finds there nearly breaks his heart. 

You’re lying on the couch, wearing his favorite dress, it’s obvious you fell asleep waiting on him. 

And he can smell fresh-baked oatmeal-raisin cookies, and steak and potatoes. He knows you must have worked hard all day for him and he couldn’t even show up when he said he would. 

‘Deserves better’ his alpha snaps from the back of his mind. 

He pushes that down, walks over to the couch kneels, and softly runs his hand over your hair. 

“Blossom, wake up, baby.” He mumbles, gently shaking you. 

“Hmm?” You groan softly, waking up. 

You blink up at him, your eyes half-lidded and tired. 

“You’re home,” you smile sleepily, “I missed you.” 

You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him close. He buries his face in your neck as he climbs up onto the couch with you, lying down on top of you, inhaling your scent. 

“Missed you too, Omega. M’sorry, I’m late.” 

You gently run your fingers through his hair, softening the slicked-back locks into the soft tendrils you love. 

“S’okay-“ you begin.

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. Fuck…” he groans softly, arguing with his Alpha. 

You hold him for a long moment. Letting him gently crush you into the couch cushions. 

“I’ve been a shit Alpha. You deserve someone who takes care of you. Who takes you out on dates? Who is good to you? Not me… not this fuck up.” He mumbles into your neck. 

“Gator, look at me.” You say softly. 

He refuses, sinking further into your scent and his self-doubt. 

You sink your fingers into his hair and gently tug at the roots. 

“Gator Tillman. Look at me.” You say, using the sternest tone he’s ever heard from you. 

He raises his head and looks at you, a little perplexed by that tone. 

“You are not a shit Alpha, and I never want to hear those words ever again. You’re my Alpha. Mine. I don’t care about going out on dates, and you’re very good to me.” You say, looking directly into his eyes, refusing to be the one to look away first. 

He leans in and rests his forehead against yours, basking in your words, for a moment. 

“But what about-“ 

“Gator, I swear,” you say, effectively cutting him off. 

He lets out a soft little laugh. 

“Don’t go turning into a brat now.” He says softly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Then don’t act like a knothead.” You mumble softly, spreading your legs so he can slot between them. 

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces, completing one another as he presses his lips against yours in a slow, gentle drag, his chapped lips against your pillow-soft ones. 

You pull away and press a small, soft kiss on his head. 

“My Alpha, perfect for me.” You whisper against his skin. 

He wraps his arms around you and buries his face back into the crook of your neck, softly kissing your mating mark as he falls asleep. 

You hold him close and close your eyes as well, letting yourself relax and be lulled into sleep. Comforted by your Alpha. 

You wake up the next morning and groan softly, stiff from having slept on the couch but feeling more at peace and well-rested than you have in days. 

You softly card your fingers through Gator’s soft hair, relishing the sleepy sounds he makes as he wakes up. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You whisper. 

“Mornin’ Blossom.” He mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. 

You smile, you relish this, this softness, that no one else gets to be privy to. Something that is only between the two of you. 

“You want me to make ya some breakfast before your shift?” You ask, as you softly run your hand up and down his spine, unable to keep your hands off him. 

He relaxes into you a little more. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all, handsome. C’mon. Get up. You get ready, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” You kiss his cheek before dropping your arms from around him. 

He rolls off the couch, less than gracefully, before popping up and helping you stand. 

He drops a kiss to the top of your head, before heading off to the shower. 

You step into the kitchen and begin to fix him some breakfast. 

Eggs, toast, bacon. Doing your very best to have it all finished at the same time. 

Gator steps into the kitchen, hair slicked back, holster around his thigh, and the rest of his gear situated just right.

You both sit to eat, and you watch as he devours his food, as always. Light conversation about plans for the day. 

As per usual, Gator can’t tell you much about anything. You try to not let it bother you. Even though it does. 

You hold onto his vest as he kisses you hard before he leaves. His tongue slid alongside yours, his hands squeezing your hips, pulling you flush against him, making sure you’ll think about nothing but him all day long. 

After your shift at the diner, you stop at the pharmacy to pick up a few things. You walk past the pads and tampons and pause. You do the mental math and your eyes go a little wide. 

Your hand instinctually rests on your lower belly. 

“Oh my god…” you bite your lip and glance at the tests next to you. You grab one and toss it in your basket before you can think too hard about it. 

Once you get home, you sit in the bathroom on top of the closed toilet lid and stare at the package. 

“This is silly… it was one heat. There’s no way…” you toss the test into the drawer and head back into the living room to watch some mindless television. 

However, it’s like the test is mocking you from the other room. 

Soon you find yourself back in the bathroom, the foil ripped open, and you take the test. You sit on the floor with the test on the edge of the tub as you wait for the results. 

Your hand once again goes to rest on your lower belly. 

“You’re going to be so loved…” you smile softly. 

A few minutes later you lift the test and it’s like a rock develops where your heart should be.  

Only one line. 

Negative.

“Oh.” 

You suddenly feel so silly and stupid for your behavior. You quickly toss everything in the trash bin as your eyes well with tears. 

You’re not even sure why you’re so upset. It’s not even something you were really thinking about, but now that it’s not happening you’re crushed. 

You move to the bedroom and crawl into your next hiding yourself under your blankets as the tears begin to fall. ‘Bad Omega, failure.’ Your omega whispers in the back of your mind. That’s where Gator finds you. 

He’d come home expecting to find you in the kitchen making dinner, or at least in the living room watching something on the TV. When he doesn’t see you he begins looking around calling out for you, becoming a little more panicked when you don’t respond. 

When he finally finds you buried in your nest he’s concerned. 

“Blossom? What’s wrong, Omega?” He sits next to you softly cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

You turn your head away from him hiding yourself from his gaze. 

“Don’t. Look at me,” He says, “Omega, what is going on? Talk to me.” 

“It’s s-stupid.” You mumble into the sheets

“It’s not stupid if it’s made you this upset. C’mon little one. Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, lifting your chin so he can look at you. 

You pause for a long moment looking up at him, thinking about how you want to tell him.

“I took a pregnancy test.” You finally say. The words slipping out easier than you thought they would. 

His face lights up, and that joy you see on his face, it kills you. It makes you feel even worse because you know what you have to say next, but he interrupts you before you can get the words out. 

“Omega mine. Why would you be upset about that? A baby is amazing.” He smiles and he moves to put his hand on your belly but you know if he touches you there you’ll scream. 

“It was negative.” you choke out.

“Oh…” he pauses and lays down pulling you close, letting you rest your head on his chest. 

You hold onto him nuzzling your face into his scent gland, calming yourself. 

“I didn’t know you wanted a baby so badly.” He whispers. 

“Neither did I.” You say, your lips softly brushing against his skin. 

He tries to contain the shiver that runs through him at the feeling of your lips on him. 

“But I do,” you whisper, “please Alpha?” 

He groans and rolls over on top of you pinning you to the mattress. 

“You’re killing me, Omega,” He softly rolls his hips against yours as he kisses you, “I’ll give you a pup. Fuck one into this cute belly of yours. Make you a mommy.”

He takes his time, slowly peeling away each layer of clothing. Pressing kisses to every inch of newly revealed skin. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I’m the luckiest Alpha alive.” He growls as he slips your panties off, and situates himself between your thighs, inhaling deeply. 

You blush at his actions, lying back in your nest. 

“Fuck, you smell so sweet for me. M’gonna get you nice and wet. So ready to take my cock, okay?” He slowly trails kisses up your inner thigh before burying his face in your cunt, tracing his tongue up and down your slit as his large hands hook under your thighs and settle on your hips. 

You gasp softly and close your eyes, settling more into the feelings. The softness of your nest, the roughness of Gator’s hands on your hips, the soft wet sounds of his tongue between your thighs, and the pleasure he brings you. 

He begins to softly suck on your clit as you begin to get wetter, he moans and the vibrations cause you to arch your back. 

“Good girl, Blossom. That’s right. Grind on my tongue, sweet girl.” He moans again. 

You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out his name, the flames of pleasure licking up your spine. 

He slips two fingers into your entrance, your wetness making it easy, as he curls them and massages the soft spongy spot he knows drives you insane. 

You dig your heels into his back trying to scramble away from him as you reach that precipice. Your Alpha only holds you tighter refusing to let you run from your own pleasure. 

You scream out his name as you come apart on his tongue. 

He laps up your essence before pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand smirking. 

“Fuckin’ delicious, Omega.” 

You blush and hide your face in the crook of your elbow. 

He grabs your hand and uncovers your face smirking down at you. 

“Hey there pretty girl.” 

“Hi.” You smile softly looking up at him. 

He holds your hands down on either side of your head and kisses you softly as you wrap your legs around his hips, the head of his cock nudging gently against your clit once, twice, before he presses into you. 

He groans softly against your lips, “holy shit, Omega… how are you always so fuckin’ tight?” 

He gives you a moment to adjust before he begins slowly rolling his hips against yours. Each thrust was measured, slow and deep. 

“Feels so good, Alpha. Always feels so good.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to him. 

He presses his forehead to yours, taking his time as the pace of his thrusts speeds up, still just as deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he presses into the hilt. 

“You feel like heaven, my love. I’m gonna give you a baby sweet Omega. Gonna give you everything you want. I promise.” He kisses you deeply as he gets closer, picking up speed as he gets closer.  

You gasp softly at his words, “I’m close Alpha, please.” 

“I know, Omega. I can feel you squeezing me. I’m almost there. Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you all of me. Fuck… wait for me, baby.” He growls softly. 

He holds you close and kisses you deeply the curly hairs at the base of his cock stimulating your clit in just the right way as he grinds his hips into yours. 

He thrusts a couple more times as he cums deep inside you, his thick spend painting your inner walls as you gasp and come hard around him. 

“That’s right, Omega. Doing so good for me. Taking me so well. Love you so much.” He holds you close as you both come down from your euphoria. 

“Love you too, Alpha. Thank you… thank you.” 

You press soft kisses everywhere you can reach, keeping your legs up and wrapped around him. 

He presses his hand down on your lower belly.

“This is where my pups will grow. Just give it time, Omega mine. Just give it time.”

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