#shut the fuck up gator

[szaryherbatnik]

2 days since i finished once upon a witchlight. 2 days since i last saw kremy. Kremy withdrawal is starting, and it hurts. Like a kremy hangover (which no is not connected with my actual hangover). Kremy means so much to me. In fact kremy means SO much to me i have a deep desire to get like a badge or a diploma for being a part of kremy nation. I would like to be perceived above all else- as a kremy girlie. WITNESS ME AS I TALK ABOUT KREMY LECROUX. contact me if you want to talk about kremy lecroux, i need to verify the info. When i die and my brain gets cut in half, all the wrinkles are shaped like kremy. And if one sunny day, running late somewhere, with a single slice of toast in my mouth, i bump into richie god damn gilder i will with no hesitation fall on the ground and thank him for creating kremy. And he will think wow shes so cool and normal, from his backpack he will produce a purple book. I gasp. Oh my god what is that. He says szare you are so cool you should have this its a book that contains every single fact about kremy ive been writing it for years. I will say thank you how can i ever show my gratitude. And he will say dw abt it bestie.

Every wednesday kremy nation shall gather as i will read a page from the kremy book.

[memingursa]

The people flooding the fargo season 5 tag posting gator fanfic are tasteless cowards worshipping a pitiable and pathetic neo confederate, and the people posting Munch thirst traps and fanfic are braver and more bold than any marine and they will see Valhalla.

[loveshotzz]

The way Gator needs his dick sucked JUST so he can shut the fuck up.

He made me roll my eyes so many times, god he’s truly the worst and I just wanna suck him off because of it 🥰

[laughableillusions]

Beating the shit out of anyone who calls Monty Gator a murderer or smth it wasn’t his fault Bonnie wandered into Monty Golf and then VANNY destroyed him!!!! He was minding his business!!!!!!!

[etherealxwitch]

changing my upcoming gator fic to a steve one!

[yeehawbvby]

I fell asleep being flattened by my giant eevee plush happy flat fuck friday

[attleboy]

i was RIGHT i was RIGHT I WAS RIGHTTTTT AHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHHAAAAA riding this high until i the day i die. new fave. get the fuck out of my way pomni

That damn cameraman is falling asleep again!

[usedtobecooler]

gator tillman has you bent into a mating press, knees practically knocking your skull as he folds you in two, cock prodding you so deep with each relentless thrust you swear he’s in your damn guts.

“listen to ya, screamin’ and cryin’ for me like a good girl, eh?” gator grins from above you, the slaps of skin on skin practically drowning him out as he sinks into your tight heat over and over, “shit, m’i that good for ya, hon?”

“best fuck i ever had, daddy,” your voice cracks, pleading as the word tumbles from your mouth unexpectedly, but you’re so lost in the throes of it that you can’t find it in yourself to even feel embarrassed. you screw your eyes shut, a lump in your throat as you silently plead that he didn’t hear.

“holy— fuck, oh—“ gator’s voice is high pitched, pinched as he looks at you like he’s been wounded, thrusts shallowing as he furrows his brows momentarily, hands gripping desperately at your naked frame.

gator’s hips stutter, blunt fingernails digging into the fat of your thighs as he cums with a broken grunt. you watch in awe as his eyes roll into the back of his head, plump lips parting in a whiny moan as he rides out the last of his release.

you’d found what makes him tick. maybe before he even realised it himself, causing the unexpected reaction.

the next time, he’s prepared for what’s about to come out of your mouth, the way daddy rolls off of your tongue as he fucks you from behind, has you bent onto your elbows with your ass high in the air, face smushed into the pillow.

“that’s it, say it again,” gator groans, large, veiny hand slapping down on the meat of your ass as his hips punch forward, harder, faster, “what am i, hon? huh?”

“daddy, daddy, daddy,” you’re babbling, arching your back and keening into each rough thrust, desperate for more even as he splits you open, open, open.

gator runs his hand up the back of your skull, fingers splaying in your hair, gripping it tight to snap your head back, hard enough your neck pops with it. you’re letting out the filthiest, most disgusting noises, pleading at him with big, wet eyes.

“that’s right,” the grin is vicious, smug and satisfied, laced with sex and desire and the fiery passion in his eyes makes you fucking melt, “i’m your fuckin’ daddy.”

[livbedum]

i would love to learn more about maybank!reader being kidnapped by rafe like what happened? why’d he do it? when did it happen? how did his family react? did they know? how did jj and the pogues react?

GIVE ME A MINUTE

WE ARE SO FUCKING OVER!

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary requested!

warnings 18+ minors dni , profanity , kidnapping / drugging , violence

rafe had the fucking cross. after all that you had gone through in the day with pope nearly dying , crashing kie’s dad’s truck , john b fighting a gator , finding out jj ran into your dad , you were tired. but the night wasn’t over until you got the cross back for pope.

your eyes stayed on sarah and john b , who were clearly having a moment after their somewhat breakup. “you seriously think now is the time to talk about this?” sarah whisper yelled at him , giving him a look that called him stupid.

before jj could stop you , you headed in her direction and yanked her with you. “we have things to do. come on,” you grunted , heading towards tannyhill. when the two of you were far enough away from the boys you looked at sarah with a small smile. “he really does love you. enough to make him stupid,” you chuckled , making your way to the truck.

“i know,” she sighed , peeking into the driver’s seat, “we gotta find the keys though,” she added , getting back to business.

you nodded , not seeing them in the truck like you were hoping. “looks like we have to go inside,” you grimaced , knowing rafe was in there , knowing he would not be happy to see you like he usually was.

sarah looked over her shoulder to the boys quickly updating them that, “we’re going inside! we’ll be right back!” before ushering you into the house with her close behind. you both kept a lookout before moving too far into the foyer. “okay , i have to go find wheezie really quick— she’ll help us distract rafe. you find the keys , okay?”

you watched sarah plot for a moment on the situation before nodding in agreement. “just be safe. don’t want rafe flipping out on you again,” you warned her , holding her hand before letting go and rushing away.

the first obvious place to check was rafe’s room. you had been there so many times , it was easy to avoid the creaks in the floor on the way to his bedroom door. you had been lucky not to see anyone yet. so , quietly your hand twisted at the golden knob before cracking the door open as slow as possible.

after the copious amount of times you snuck into tannyhill , you knew better than to let rafe’s old door creak when you opened it. as soon as the opening was wide enough for you to slip in , you did , closing the door softly behind you , shutting yourself inside.

and that’s when you heard the shower stop running , making you blood run cold. now was not the time to bump into rafe. not when the boys were outside , not when sarah was upstairs , and not while he had the cross you were absolutely trying to steal back from him. that wasn’t an option.

your eyes darted around the room you were so familiar with , catching a glimpse of the nightstand that had the keychain sitting on top of it. you could still hear rafe in his en suite bathroom , so you rushed to grab the keys. they clanked against the wooden stand , causing you to cringe at the disturbance of quiet. “shit,” you cursed as they slipped out of your hand and into the floor , making even more of a ruckus as the bathroom door opened wide.

there was nothing else to do in that moment other than freeze. caught like a deer in headlights , you looked up and saw rafe standing in the doorway , towel around his hips , chest heaving and already looking down at you. you were crouched down , actively reaching for the keys again.

“what are you doing here?” oh. he’s playing it safe. he raised his eyebrows at you as he bent over , slowly grabbing the keys from the floor. he stayed low , looking into your eyes for a moment before rising completely and taking the keys with him to his dresser.

you took a deep breath and stood up , trying to gauge how this was going to go. “sarah was complaining about missing something the other day , so i thought i could come by and grab it,” you lied , watching him as he got dressed, “heard you in the shower and stopped in while i could. missed you,” you added , stepping closer to rafe before reaching out and touching his damp back.

his skin twitched under the contact. “yeah?” he chuckled , turning around with a smile, “came in here just for me?”

“what else?” you asked , matching his smile as you leaned up to press a kiss into his cheek before retreating back a few feet.

“you’re not here because you know i have the cross?” rafe questioned , stepping forward , effectively forcing you back toward his bed, “not here to steal my fucking keys? and take off with the cross that i found!” he shouted , trapping you where you were pressed against the edge of his bed frame.

your eyes betrayed you , flashing a vulnerable fear in them when he yelled. “no , baby,” you shook your head quickly just like your voice, “no , of course not.”

“stop lying to me!” again , rafe’s voice practically rattled the window panes, “you shouldn’t have fucking come here , y/n! you’re so fucking stupid. should’ve just minded your business! constantly forcing my hand to do things i don’t want to do!” he continued getting dressed , throwing a jacket on.

“rafe , you’re scaring me,” you admitted , sinking into the mattress in an attempt to get away from him.

a low chuckle came from his throat as he turned and looked at you. “this isn’t my fault,” he started, “you—“

“rafe! can you come help me pack my bag?”

wheezie.

your chest deflated , finally able to catch a breath when rafe moved his eyes to the door where wheezie was bound to walk through in a moment. “here , baby. you can have the keys to the truck,” rafe smiled , tossing the keys at you before going to the door and stepping into the hallway before wheezie got to you both.

you caught the keys , pushing yourself up off the bed and rushing to the door. the knob giggled in your hand as you tried to open it , but the locked clicked into place on the other side. “have to do everything for you people,” rafe grumbled to his little sister before you could hear his footsteps getting quieter.

“fuck! fuck , fuck , fuck,” you grumbled , hand hitting at the door, “rafe , let me the fuck out right now!” you yelled , banging against the door even harder , keys still jingling in your hand.

“y/n?” sarah’s voice came out worried and rushed through the door, “y/n/n , are you in there?” her hand tapped against the wood on the other side of yours.

“sare? sarah , i can’t get out. you have to pick the lock or something,” you explained , turning to look for something on your side of the door to help.

“okay , it’s okay,” sarah assured you, “i got you.”

you could here some sort of rattling on her end , assuming she found something to jam inside the lock to get you out. “i got the keys!” you smiled with a sniffle , trying to look at the bright side , but you knew it wasn’t long until rafe returned to his room and caught sarah this time.

the lock clicked , sliding out of place before sarah pushed it open. “oh , my god!” she breathed out , yanking you in for a hug before you both ran out of the room, “gimme the keys , and let’s go.”

you tossed her the key chain , following her out of the house and back to the truck. “what’re you doing?” you whispered when sarah kept moving to the back.

“i wanna make sure it’s still in here,” sarah explained , fumbling with the keys before finding one that fit into the lock on the back door.

“okay , well hurry it up before rafe finds both of us,” you urged her , checking over your shoulder for any sign of him. as if your words triggered the reaction , the lock undid itself , and sarah pulled the door open before stopping. “what is it?”

you moved to take a look yourself only to freeze just like sarah did , keeping eye contact with the man you saw in the truck with rafe earlier. he laid lifeless on the ground next to the cross , eyes boring into your own. “what did he do?” you sighed , assuming rafe was the one who killed the man. who else would’ve?

“you guys really shouldn’t have done that.” it was rafe’s voice that came from behind you just before you felt his arms wrap around you and a sharp pinch in the side of your neck. his hands released you , letting you stumble away as your hand reached up to you neck.

“rafe?”

he didn’t bother looking at you , only dropping the now empty syringe to the ground and grabbing sarah. you could only watch as sarah struggled against her brother’s grip , feeling time slow and your heart beat much harder than it was before. “rafe , what are you doing?” she kicked at him , but it wasn’t a fair match.

the last thing you saw was rafe dragging sarah back inside before you stumbled back and tripped. your arms flew back , trying to catch your fall , but there you laid on the ground almost as lifeless as the man in the truck.

you don’t remember anything as you wake up , but the moment your eyes open , you know where you were. the way the mattress sank beneath and around you , the feel of the silk pillow case under your head. you were in rafe’s room. again.

you sat up quickly , looking around to see if sarah was locked in with you , but you were alone. throwing the comforter off of your body , you swung your legs off the edge of the bed. “rafe?” you spoke quietly but loud enough to where he would hear you if he was in the area, “babe? what’s going on?” you called out a little louder but sweeter when you didn’t get a response.

“rafe!” your voice was louder this time , a little angrier when you realized he had left you in the room alone. “rafe cameron , let me out of this room! help! wheezie? rose!” you roared , running to the door to try and open it. you shoved your body against the wood , trying to break it down as if that would ever happen. “rafe!” you called out again far weaker than before.

catching your breath , you moved back to the bed to stabilize yourself. your head was still fuzzy with whatever rafe shot you up with. you sat down , head hanging low as you tried to think everything through.

rafe gave you a shot.

he took sarah inside.

you woke up in his room.

you were alone.

sarah wasn’t with you.

you steadied yourself again before standing up from the bed , moving to the door the bang on it more. “sarah! sarah , where are you?” you shouted , the door muffling your cries, “sare?”

there wasn’t a response. only the quiet hum of the air conditioning filling the heavy space around you. you slid down against the door , falling to the floor in defeat. you couldn’t get out of rafe’s room by yourself last time ; sarah helped you , and where did that get her?

your eyes scanned the room , catching sight of the flowers you had brought rafe not that long ago as an apology for your last fight. you apologized to him , and this is what he does next?

pushing yourself up , you move to the fireplace and grab the vase before launching it at the bedroom door. that would cause concern if your yelling hadn’t already. “rafe , let me out of here before i keep going!” you screamed , grabbing the next thing you could grab and throwing it the same direction as the broken vase and flowers. “we are so fucking over!”

by the time rafe was ushered away from sarah in the basement , you had already destroyed half of his valuables. the laptop he had on his desk , photo frames of his family and even some of you , his cologne bottles in the bathroom , and all of his watches had been thrown across the room as well.

“what the fuck!” rafe barged into the room , slamming the door behind him as he took in the sight of the floor and you, “what the fuck are you doing?” he yelled , grabbing you by the shoulders, “what the actual fuck , y/n?”

“you drugged me!” you argued , shoving at his chest, “you drugged me , rafe! and locked me in your room!” you kept shoving , hitting at him before he had enough and grabbed you. his grip forced you into the bed face down as he held you in place.

“stop fucking yelling , and stop fucking shoving me,” he grunted in your ear , pushing your body down again to get his point across, “calm the fuck down and we’ll talk.”

“get off of me!” you cried , trying to fight him , but his weight alone was enough to keep you down.

“not until you calm down , baby,” he replied, “you keep making me do shit i don’t wanna do. how is this my fault?” he asked you , lifting up enough to let you take a completely breath.

you looked up at him from the bed , eyes wide and tear filled. “you— you killed that guy,” you muttered, “you killed that guy , and you’re going to kill me and sarah , right?” you couldn’t help but let the absolute worst thoughts bubble to the surface.

rafe heard the words you spoke despite being coughed out through your tears , and he softened entirely. “what?” he moved , letting you go and sitting down next to you , but your body couldn’t move. you were frozen on the bed , terrified of what would happen if you tried to run. the only movement you could make was flinching away when rafe’s hand came up to gently move the hair out of your face.

“i didn’t kill anyone.” he said it like a fact , when you knew it wasn’t. peterkin. he killed peterkin , but you knew better than to bring that up ever again. “well , at least not that guy,” he added with a soft laugh, “and i wouldn’t do that to you , y/n. i love you ; don’t you see? i’m doing this all for you!” your eyes followed his movements as he got on his knees by the bed and laid his head by yours to look you in the eye. “we’re going away. i got the cross and sarah and you. okay , we’re leaving tonight. i just gotta take care of some things , but in the meantime you and sarah are going to go with rose and wheezie to the wharf.”

you felt his hand crawl up your back , stopping on your neck and holding you down without any force— just a precaution. “i love you , and i’m sorry , but you gotta come with. cuz i gotta go , and i can’t leave without you,” he continued , and you nodded , going along with whatever he was saying , none of which you understood.

“okay,” you croaked , nodding again.

“just need you to go back to sleep for a bit , ‘kay?” he had tears in his own eyes. he hated seeing you look so afraid of him. that’s the last thing he wanted. he was doing this all for you. he convinced his dad to let you come with because he loved you so much he couldn’t live without you. and you looked at him with fear. “love you , princess,” he whispered , kissing your forehead before standing up and grabbing something from the nightstand you hadn’t seen before.

“wait , rafe. no , no , no. please—“ your pleas were cut off by rafe covering your mouth and inserting another needle into your skin.

“okay , john b , you need to get sarah. me and pope will just y/n/n,” jj planned , huddling up with his boys before they stormed the cameron castle. only before they could break , rafe came waltzing out of the house and into the truck once again before taking off.

pope didn’t hesitate to run after the truck , hiding in the blind spot to hop on the back. jj and john b scrambled in place , not knowing to go after pope or the girls in the house , but the brake lights disappearing made their decision for them. pope could handle his own.

“wait— b , look,” jj hit john b’s arm , pointing at the scene happening in the cameron’s driveway.

rose was busying herself with shoving you in the backseat of the car , not understanding why on earth you were tagging along , but not wanting to push rafe even further tonight. wheezie followed behind , struggling to move sarah’s drugged up body by herself.

as soon as you were properly buckled and locked away in the back , rose moved to help wheezie , lying about how you and sarah wasn’t feeling too good.

“okay , well we gotta get them,” john b stated , already running after the car that had started to pull out of the driveway.

the boys banged on the windows , begging wheezie to unlock the door or for one of you to wake up and do it yourself. Rose just sped off , leaving the boys behind.

“twinkie! get the twinkie! we gotta go!” jj shouted , sprinting off towards the van so they could follow rose’s car across the island.

if you didn’t feel like shit waking up in rafe’s room , you definitely did now. your entire body was sore , head spinning , and for some reason you felt like you were swaying even as you laid down. despite not knowing where you were exactly at this time , you could figure it out if you took a moment to.

the bobbing , the salt air , the horn in the distance.

you were on a fucking boat , but you didn’t get much time to stress about it before you heard people outside your door arguing.

“rafe , you drugged her. that is kidnapping! and you made me an accomplice! for a pogue? who even is this girl?!” rose , if you assumed correctly , was clearly on your side of the kidnapping , not so much for you but for her.

you could practically see rafe roll his eyes from this side of the door. “dad , you said she could come. she’s here. she’s coming.” if the circumstances had been different , your heart would’ve swelled with pride at the fact that rafe was standing up to ward , especially when it came to you.

“not like this , son!” ward’s voice powerful as ever argued.

wait— ward?

you pushed yourself up from the couch you were laid on and moved to the door , stumbling with the waves beneath the ship. cautiously , you turned the handle and surprisingly pushed through. “rafe?”

your voice was softer than the three that continued arguing , but it still pulled them out of their conversation. all eyes were on you instantly. rose was the first to speak up. “y/n , sweetie , why don’t you go lie back down? rafe said you hit your head earlier. you must need rest.” it all sounded sweet in theory , but you knew it was all a story and fake concern.

“my head feels fine,” you snipped quickly , looking to rafe again before moving your eyes to the undead, “was hoping you were actually blown up by that boat , ward.” as much as you hated rafe for what he had done to you in the past however many hours , your blood boiled at the sight of ward. you were there for rafe when he died ; you picked up the pieces ; you encouraged him to keep going. even before his fake death , you had to be there for rafe when ward flipped out on him. every. single. time.

ward only spared you a glance before pointing at rafe and muttering a “clean this shit up , boy,” before walking away with rose.

“why the fuck did you wake up with an attitude?” rafe cursed , ushering you back into the room you were just in.

you crossed your arms and stared at him indifferently. “maybe because you drugged me , rafe. again,” you stated like he was an idiot for asking , despite knowing he hated when people spoke to him like that. you didn’t exactly care about his feelings in the moment. “you have done a lot of things to me that are awful , rafe , but this— wow , this takes the cake.”

“i did what i had to do to get you here,” rafe groaned , stepping towards you with open hands. you backed away , instinctively. “oh , my fucking god! you’re so dramatic , y/n!”

“and you’re psychotic!” you quickly yelled back , hugging yourself with your arms as you kept your distance from him, “where’s sarah? i want sarah.”

rafe sighed , running a hand down is face. “she’s with our family right now. she doesn’t feel good.”

“i want to see her.”

“she’s busy,” rafe simply denied your request, “do you want a water , baby?” you flinched as tried to step closer to you again. “y/n , seriously , knock it off,” he grunted , getting more irritated by your lack of willingness to just fucking comply with what’s going on, “everything’s going to be fine. i have it all handled. i just needed to get you here.”

you shook your head , slowly crossing the room. “no. i don’t want to be here. i want to go home , rafe. i want to call jj. please,” you asked him , tears filling your eyes at the beginning of accepting that you were in a situation you most likely weren’t getting out of, “rafe , look at what you’ve done,” you started, “look what you did to me.”

rafe didn’t listen though. he turned his head , not wanting to see the truth. he got you here. that’s what mattered. “you can call jj when we dock,” he muttered , trying to reach his hand out to you again before dropping it to his side, “but you’re not leaving until then.”

“we are so fucking over , rafe.” it was said definitively.

and it was like you were living in a loop when rafe slipped out the door and closed it behind him , when you heard the sound of a lock being put in place , holding you in the room you woke up in. your eyes stared blankly at the red , painted metal before you fell back into the couch. “i’m so fucked.”

at least that’s what it felt like.

a/n holy shit this took a minute and it isn’t proofed or anything so ignore any typos

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt @inlovewithmorales @spoiledbratspostsblog @heartsforandrewgarfield @stoned-writer

[herstarburststories]

sitting on gator tillman's face to shut him the fuck up.

a/n: I know this is lateee, I'll post two kinktobers today and two tomorrow to get on the right track of the days. beware> oral sex (female receiving), hate/love relationship, mentions of humping, and dirty talk

Gator Tillman gets on your nerves sometimes.

No, scratch that. He always gets on your nerves. You don’t know what irks you most about him: the stupid smirk; that disgusting vape; his baseless facede of confidence; the constant teasing sarcasm in his words, if he were incapable of taking anything seriously; or, maybe, it was how he was so impossibly gorgeous even when he was bleeding out. 

Gator irritates you more than any other being, from the poor excuse of a politicians to the stupid policimen that you face from time to time at the station.

So, it’s good to finally shut up his mouth. Even better, you’d put it for a good use for once.

His brown eyes glow and widen as he looks up to you, naked body impatient on the mattress as he nibbles on his bottom lip in anticipation. Tillman's cock is already hard only from making out and some humping. It’s so easy to get him all worked up for you.

You throw your shirt away, and Gator lets out a quiet grunt his response. His idiotic lips are parted slightly as he watches your tits. You aren’t wearing a bra and fuck, he just wants to touch you, but for right now, this isn’t about him. Well, not directly.

This is about how furious you are because Gator Tilmman has no right to make you feel like a high school girl discovering how a crush felt. You were always surrounded by a light-hearted feeling that made you want to do a dumb thing like kiss his smoke lips in the back of a bar or jump in front of a bullet to save his ungrateful ass.

How did you, of all people, develop a crush for Gator? Gator is, well, Gator! – a pathetic, cocky son of a bitch. Come on, you’re smarter than that! You’ve gotta be a masochist. 

Nonetheless, you get rid of your pants and underwear, pussy almost dripping for this idiot. Tillman whimpers at the sight, licking his lips. The only thoughts revolving around in his head are: I need to taste you.

''Fuck.''

You glance at him, the beginnings of a smile lightening your features. The big, bad deputy certainly doesn’t have the usual arrogant look on his face now.

You still have your boots on when you climb on top of the bed, and Gator doesn’t seem to care one bit. If anything, his livid, chocolate orbs catch a glimpse of you, naked and climbing on top of him, only wearing those fucking boots. He gulps, not remembering the last time he’s been this turned on. He is a goner.

You place your hands on his shoulders, and you’re sitting on his legs. The wetness of your needy cunt makes a mess there. Part of you wants to ride his thigh, rubbing until you achieve your share of relief. You have a thought or two about just taking his length inside you — how couldn’t you? The tip of his hardness is pressing against your belly, his desire palpable from the precum sluicing your skin. When Gator groans, it’s almost silent; animalistic, even. He grabs your hip as if you were his. God, you want to be, but not today.

Tillman leans in to capture your mouth in another savage kiss, but you pull back. He gives you a confused look. “Wh--”

“That's not where I want your mouth.”

At first, his eyes go wild and you can see him swallwing, salivating, And then, Gator offers your that malicious grin. It’s filled to the brim with confidence. “Well, dollface,” he breathes, and you groan at the stupid nickname he probably gives to every single woman he meets. Son of a bitch. “What’s it to you, then? You want me to get on top of you so I can fuck you nice and slow?” You are about to laugh at his face over the implication of being dominated by him, but Gator's fingers slide into a clandestine meeting with your clit, carefully caressing it as if you were lovers. All you can do now is sink your nails into his skin and moan, shamefully loud. “Or you want to ride my thigh? Come without even touching my cock like a good slut?”

That wasn’t your plan, but it felt so good. If Tillman's fingers are that heavenly, fucking his cock might turn you into a goddess, but you can’t.

You aren’t going to give in that easily. He tried to give you orders through the whole day at the station. The others might have a high tolerance for moods of Roy Tillman's son, but you don’t. You’re going to teach him a thing or two about shutting the hell up.

You push his hand away, your body aching as if you broke a bone. Yet, you persevered as you took a deep breath and grinned impishly at Gator, devouring the despair in his eyes when he no longer has his hand on you.

“You talk way too much, Tillman.” Your fingertips trace a line from his jaw to his neck, trailing down his chest; always following his foolish, adorable freckles. You catch a glimpse of goosebumps rising under your touch. It only causes your smirk to go wider. Gator is glaring at you with raised brows, and you push him to lay on his back.

His cock twitching is proof enough that he enjoyed that.

You press your warmth on his length, retracting your hips when he tried to get inside you. Gator lets out a beautiful, frustrated grunt.

“Dollface...” Now that’s better. And suddenly he’s groaning your name, fully aware only you are giving him pleasure. This is personal, this is dwindling, it’s everything you both have been craving.

“You talk too much, Gator. Always trying to look like the fucking man in the room” You’re basically climbing on him now, your pussy enjoying the small relief of friction from Tillman's hips, his stomach, his chest. You opt to sit there. “Someone should shut you up.”

Gator wishes he could answer. He wants to smirk at you, bring up other teasing comments only to get more of this. You are frisky and dominant – everything his body and soul begged for. Yet, he can’t bring himself to do anything other than lean his head forward in an attempt to catch your pussy with his lips. You smell so good. He can’t wait to taste you. He just wants to eat you out, but you pull away from him with a laugh as if you found amusement in his suffering. Fuck, he’s getting even harder

Gator Tillman is so touch-starved for anything you’re willing to give him.

You rise from his chest, your wetness leaving him soaked. He can’t complain, though. Not when you blessed him with the sight of paradise.

That’s it, Gator decides. Your cunt is the best thing he has ever seen, and he needs to toy with it.

Because you’re over his head, literally. Knees to the mattress on each side of his head, your pussy is right on his face, so appetizing and wet all for him.

“Dollface..” he tries, but you are quick to stop him. It’s a good thing. He’d probably make a fool out of himself from begging to let him touch you, just a little.

“Shh, sweetheart. Just shut up.” Gator barely catches a glimpse of pleasure for that before you sit on his face. “Now eat me out.”

Nevermind, this is his heaven.

You bite your lower lip, trying to regain some composure as you coil your fingers around the bedpost, nails pressed so strenuously into the hardwood there that you wouldn’t be surprised if you left marks carved there. What else are you supposed to do? Gator doesn’t waste any time when you sit on his face, eating you out like you’re a fucking meal and he’s a starving man. His chin and lips and nose are all wet from you.

This man is fucking hungry for you.

“I knew that pretty mouth of yours could go to good use, baby,” you mumbled amidst his pornographic groans, grinding your hips down to ride his face. Gator shoves his tongue inside your warmth, finding comfort between your tight walls.

He pulls away, but only because he needs to breathe. Tillman nibbles on your inner thigh, smirking when you whine for him. So gorgeous and delicious. He gets your clit between his teeth carefully — this isn’t supposed to hurt.

You inhale sharply, looking down to catch him in the act. He looks so hot like his, eating you out with his viridescent gaze fixed on your face as if you were his grand enlightenment. You look like everything he never thought he could have when you were like this: sitting on his face and giving yourself to him, glancing at Gator with your hands fixed on the headboard and tresses of your hair falling on your face.

After this, he has to kiss you some more. He just has to.

For now, though, the deputy is more than happy eating out his prey. He enjoys every aspect of this. You taste as if you were made to be this good for him. The tip of his tongue brushes your G-spot, and he can’t wait for you to come. 

The idea of tasting your orgasm makes his cock ache deeply in the best ways possible. Gator's freaking sure he’s about to come untouched because of your needy cunt.

He licks your clit before enveloping you with his lips, sucking on you at your neediest. You begin to lose your cognitive senses, melting into a screaming mess and pressing your pussy closer to him. Tillman is almost suffocating, and he couldn’t be happier. 

Your thighs tighten around his ears, a cry leaving your lips as Gator focuses all his attention on your clit. He only pauses to sink his tongue into your warm wetness before coming back to your sensitive spot.

You clutch the bedpost as if you are holding onto dear life as you come all over Gator's face. He tries to catch all of you — not because he doesn’t want to get dirty, but because he ain’t gonna miss one single drop of your juice. 

You taste so fucking good, much better than anything he has ever put on his tongue. Tillman is an addict now, and he can’t get enough of your cunt, your cum, or you.

He licks you clean, getting the most he can of you, and you whine through the intense sensation of freedom that comes with it. Fuck Gator and his spoiled tongue.

You get up with trembling legs. Your hand slides to find his hard cock and offer what relief you can, but you just find milky come on his stomach.

Did he come only from eating you out?

Holy fuck.

You make the mistake of looking at his face after that realization. He’s breathless, glancing at you and licking your juices off his lips. He looks flushed and satisfied, smirking with dimpled cheeks. You can see your come on his chin and nose. “Remind me to never stop talking if this is how you’re gonna shut me up.”

request for kinktober. reblogs and comments are magic. ♡

[that-fic-girl]

I'VE GOT A SCENARIO, ok so I saw the Monty doing Roxanne with reader being jealous and got a thought. Reader is dating Monty but cheats on reader with Roxanne. They cry to Bonnie for comfort cuz he's sweet bunny but little does the reader know his idea so comfort is something else 👀. Monty catches them and is fumming cuz he knows Bonnie's been pinning for reader the whole time. Bunny boi looking at Monty while pounding reader like whatcha done do? 👀🐇👀

your prayers have been answered my sweet in this, reader calls bonnie thumper as a nickname. I will STAND WITH THAT HEAD CANON UNTIL I DIE.

GLAMROCK BONNIE x READER

tw: NSFW THEMES, cheating, mentions of panties for the feminine ppl, not read over it just finished it off this morning, mentions of vaginal parts

every day was getting more and more exhausting for you. Your pay check is slipping, your sink was leaking and your relationship was fading.

you would find yourself getting upset and just breaking down, the first person at your side would always be bonnie.

he would always hear to what you had to say, he gave great advice and if you need to cry in his embrace, hes happy to be there for you.

"its gonna be okay superstar, I promise" he held you and stroked your hair as you quietly sobbed into his bowling shirt.

"I-its not... hes going to leave me.. I-.. I just don't know what to do"

you knew deep down it was for the better. all monty ever did was insult you and ignore you. NOTHING about him screamed "caring" in any way.

"but... it'll be for the best." you stuttered, wiping your tears from your face.

you patted Bonnies leg and gave him a little smile, indicating it was time for you to finish on your check-ups with the other glamrocks. god how he loves that smile.

before you pulled the door he grabbed your waist from behind and hugged you.

"just one more before you leave, im gonna miss ya'" he said whilst resting his head into the dip of your neck.

"Awww, thumper. c'mere"

the large thump of the elevator hitting the floor woke you up from your thoughts. remembering you have to finish off the last of the glamrock checkups and then your free to roam around for a bit until opening.

your first stop was freddy;

freddy noticed your tear stained face and questioned you about it but after you said it was nothing, he didn't want to push you into telling him. so he stayed quiet until you finished.

"alright! all done. you seem to be operating fine."

you gave the brown bear a smile, closing his stomach hatch.

"I best be on my way now".

and with that, you made your way to Roxy's greenroom but to your surprise, she wasn't there.

"that's strange... maybe she's in her raceway. ill check it later"

you grabbed your tools and headed to your gators greenroom.

you where absolutely terrified, why wouldn't you be? he has a short temper and isn't really fond of you DESPITE you being his significant other.

as you where about to place your fist onto his door, you heard something.

"fuckkk..roxyy"

you heard grunts and several slurs mumbling all coming from monty's room.

you felt dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

without hesitation, you slammed the door open to reveal a heartbreaking scene.

"what. the. fuck" you dropped your bags to the floor and stood in shock.

"ah- shit babe! its not what it looks like!"

monty tried to cover Roxy whilst trying to put his pants back on, knocking over a few objects thrown across his room.

"oh so you weren't just balls fucking deep in Roxy then huh?! do you think im a fucking idiot?!" you frantically waved your arms around, your head raging at the thought of your best friend FUCKING your boyfriend.

"no I-"

"so this is why you where so distant from me. you where screwing around with her!" you cut him off.

monty was silent. he knew you where right and you could see it on his face

Roxanne stood up and moved towards you

"im sorry y/n-"

"I don't want to hear anything from you."

and with that you slammed the door shut, walking back to the elevator you came from. you where too distracted to go check on Chica or the others. you had one destination you where gonna go to and that was it.

you felt your anger slowly melt into sadness and the aching in your chest started to become more apparent. tears started to run down your face.

"shit.."

bonnie was sat on foxy's stage, head in his hands and dying of boredom.

"why didn't I just tell her, kiss her.. or DO ANYTHING! god she's gonna get played by that dick-"

"b-bonnie.."

his head instantly turned.

"o-oh my sweet thing, what happened?"

he quickly ran to your side, putting your head in his hands.

"monty he...he.. I think he grew fonder to Roxanne.."

bonnie gave you a sad look, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"aw darlin'... im sorry you had to see that"

his hands ran down to your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"its going to be alright, love"

you wiped you tears and sat down, putting you head into your hands. Bonnie lifted your face up to meet him, giving you a soft smirk.

"I can treat you better than he ever could, y'know?"

your eyes never left his, getting lost in the sight that was in front of you. you felt your insides bubbling in excitement.

you knew there was always something there between you two but you always thought it was a misunderstanding. but now you realise that hes always been the one there for you, always been the one to keep you company on lonely night shifts, always been the one to understand and listen to you, hes always been the one.

"do you want me to treat you better?" his hands slowly slid up your thighs, rubbing the inside of your legs.

"y-yes..please" you stuttered, you heart was beating so fast. you couldn't actually believe this was happening.

"atta' girl" he said with a soft melodic tone.

NSFW UNDER THE LINEEE

bonnie's hands started to wonder all over you whilst he kissed your neck, touching all of your sensitive parts.

he was a bit hesitant a first but the noises you made encouraged him to feel more.

His hands tugged at the waist line of your pants, eagerly wanting to see the beauty between your legs.

"you sure you want this sweetheart?" he gave you a look of concern, making sure that this was the right moment for you.

"I am positive my little thumper, you're too sweet"

his foot pounded lightly in the floor from the little nickname you gave him. he felt as if he was under your spell, no matter what, all he could think about was you.

he pulled your pants off, revealing the laced panties you wore.

his hand glided over the heat between your legs, feeling your wetness and admiring the state that you where in. the state he caused you to be in.

"my, my baby. you look so adorable" he purred, his head going closer to your lower regions

"and you're all mine"

he pulled you panties off, staring down your dripping mess between your legs. his hands caressed your inner thighs, making your heat throb in anticipation.

even in such a desperate situation, he still made you feel special. it still made your stomach bubble butterflies.

"please just fuck me bon... I need you"

That lit something in him. Within seconds he’s picking you up and placing you on top of his lap, kissing your shoulders whilst his hands roamed the bottom half of your body.

You’re body was warm, soft, his hands gave you such a euphoric feeling. You knew in that moment that he’s what you want, your face grew redder and your heart beat increased.

You felt him slowly lift up your body as you felt something poking at your puffy core. A few whimpers left your mouth as you felt him enter inside of you.

“Fuckk, hon…”

His voice sounded so melodic, filling your stomach with butterflies, making you feel as if you’re a teenager again with a high school crush.

Your head naturally fell onto Bonnies shoulder as he started to bounce you up and down on his cock. He was slow and passionate. Not rough or mean like Monty was.

Your hands wrapped around him as your mouth opened, letting out the sweetest of noises, sending him over the edge, he was loving every second of it and you could tell.

“..’feels so good Bon..”

He smiled, he loved hearing you, especially like this.

“I know sweets, let Bonnie take care of ya’”

And with that, you’re riding up and down on him, filling your senses with a euphoric pleasure as he fucked you right to the edge.

By this point your legs had started to shake, you was clearly close and he wanted to get you to finish, all he wanted was for you to feel good.

His hands move as he moves one of them to your lower back and the other one straight to your puffy clit. As soon as his fingers made contact, your head flung back as the overwhelming feeling whipped straight to your core.

“O-oh my goddd… Bon..’mgonna cum..”

You mumbled as your body grew limp.

“That’s it clover, feel good on me, please”

And with that, you both felt your gummy walls tighten around him. Your body heaved as your clenched your fists and screamed for him, gifting him a small smirk on his face.

He pulled you off of him, not caring that he hadn’t finished, more of that he needed to take care of you. Pulling you into his chest, he moved a strand of hair from your face. You smiled at him. God. He loved that smile.

“God.. be mine hon, please”.

Sorry for the fact that it was rushed, its 3:56 and I’m tryna get all my drafts finished and I know y’all are back on the FNAF band waggon again so why not throw a few out there for you guys, love ya <3

Also please give me more requests, I’ve got no inspiration 😭

[chestharrington]

Fixation

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, handjob, p in v). Dubious Consent (coercion, power imbalance, failure to pull out), unhealthy/probably illegal power imbalance, stripper!reader, gator is an asshole (like extremely), degradation, misogyny, sexual assault (by a non major character), brief violence, kind of stockholm syndrome if you think about it, unhappy ending

Summary: Gator Tillman’s fixation of the week just so happens to be you, for better or worse.

A/N: If you know me personally please do not read this thank u <3

The foggy clouds of your breath were painted pink by the glow of the neon sign— The Venus Lounge— with a cute little clamshell opening and closing and everything. 

You had a velour sweatsuit pulled over the skimpy costume you’d wear for your next dance, hot pink and bedazzled across the ass. It was trendy maybe fifteen years prior, so it cost just about nothing when you bought it at a bin sale. 

Sweet, strawberry-scented vapor poured from your lips as you exhaled. You hated this stupid thing— you’d rather smoke a cigarette like a goddamn adult. But the owner insisted, “You ladies gotta stay smelling nice and sweet and respectable for our clientele.” Which was fucking stupid considering they came in smelling like sweat and mud and body odor. 

From the alley, you could get a sneak peek of whoever was coming your way for the night— the big spenders, the handsy ones, the cheap ones… and Gator Tillman’s stupid entourage, who you avoided like the plague.

You made the mistake of getting cozy with him. Once. A few well-paid lap dances, then a private dance in one of the dimly lit back rooms. He’d been handsy, and you relished in it, in him. A handsome, powerful guy who looked at you like you were the hottest woman he’d ever seen. You sucked him off in the private room and he gave you a hundred to shut the fuck up about it. Like you were some sort of whore.

Gator. What a stupid fucking name. His dad was a grade-A cocksucker, so it made sense that he’d name his son something so goddamn stupid. The other girls were scared of Roy, with good reason. Their boyfriend get too rough? He’d brush it off— no domestic abuse charges on his watch. The man is the master of the house, and the woman is his property. One girl swore he came onto her, and she got a broken arm when she brushed him off. A lot of people thought that stepping to the Tillman’s meant winding up dead. 

Fuck that. 

You hadn’t wanted to wind up in this town anyway. You were married, once upon a time. You had the tattoo of his name on your hipbone, a shitty rental house in West Texas, and a wedding band he bought from a pawn shop. He found a job up north, and you followed like an obedient puppy. 

It wasn’t your fault he’d racked up gambling debts— that he owed the wrong people money he didn’t have. And it wasn’t your fault that he was fucking a waitress at the local diner— thin, blonde, perky. The divorce was settled quickly— but you were left penniless, in bumfuck North Dakota, in Tillman territory. 

Well, it was a good thing you still had your looks. 

You saw the police cruiser pull into the lot, heard the slam of the car door and the mindless chatter between the valiant boys in blue. Those assholes did about as much for the city as a tick does for a dog. Your phone buzzed against your hip, warning you that your break was up. You took one more puff from your vape and slipped back in the door to the dressing room. 

You warned everyone that Gator and his boys were out there as you slipped out of your jogging suit and adjusted your dancewear beneath— a baby blue bikini set that you’d bedazzled by hand. You slipped a sheer skirt overtop and surveyed yourself in the mirror. There was still a flush on your cheeks from being out in the cold, but it would be fine. 

You slipped out onto the floor, passing by crowded tables. It was busy, even for a Saturday, which meant more money to take home. A hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it in a meaty paw. It was some drunk old guy who probably couldn’t even get it up anymore but had maintained his pervy inclinations. You bit your cheek to keep from saying anything and kept making your rounds.

“You want a dance?” You’d ask the safe guys— the ones who looked nervous to be there, whose eyes kept flitting around like they’d get caught any moment. Their button-ups were ironed, their slacks pressed. Usually, they had a nice fountain pen in their pocket. Clerks, CPAs, any of those nerdy desk jobs. 

Most of the time they declined, too nervous to go that far, but occasionally you’d get a yes, do a bit of grinding, and walk away with a nice tip. 

You’d done a few lap dances by the time you passed by Gator and his crew. Your money was tucked into the band at your hip, concealing your ex-husband’s name. 

He called you like a dog– whistling low. You froze, and turned to face him, all smug and pleased with himself. 

“You need somethin’, Deputy?” You asked, jaw clenched, raising a brow. “Because if you do, you can ask like a gentleman. I’m a lady, not a dog.”

He laughed, glancing back at his pack of asshole cops to make sure they saw the next part. “Really? ‘Cause it seems to me you’re actin’ like a bitch.” They all laughed, because of course they did. They thought he was so, so clever. Before you could respond, he held up a fifty-dollar bill between two fingers. “C’mere, girl. I want a dance.”

Your eyes flicked between him and the fifty between his fingers. You were broke, but was it worth it? He saw your hesitation and his smug grin grew. “Aw, you need it that bad, huh?” He patted his thigh twice. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Anyone in their right mind would’ve said no, and walked away with their dignity intact, but he was right— you needed it bad. 

So you approached and tried to pluck the money from his hand, but he pulled it away, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Nuh-uh, Sweetheart. Gotta earn it first.”

You huffed in disbelief, taking a step back. But meeting his gaze told you how serious he was. You swallowed your pride and straddled his lap, grinding to the beat. 

It felt degrading, dancing on him while his friends all leered. Your tits pressed against Gator’s shirt, his hands firm on your hips, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch. If you called him out on it, he’d probably just say it was nothing he hadn’t done before.

It could’ve been one song, or maybe more. Probably more. When he finally removed his hands, he nodded for you to get off. You swallowed uncomfortably and took a few awkward steps back. 

“The money,” you said weakly.

His face scrunched slightly, like he was considering it. “Eh… I don’t think you earned it, Sweetheart. I mean, I’m not even hard.” 

He got a real kick out of that, and out of the kicked puppy look in your eyes. You swallowed it down like a bitter pill and met his gaze. “It’s not my fault that all the blow you do is killing your dick. Keep your fuckin’ money, Gator. I don’t want it.”

Which was a lie. You wanted it more than anything… but you knew you’d pissed him off. You could see the vein popping at his temple, the way his hand clenched around his beer bottle. Better to pretend you were better off without it and walk off with some dignity left.

It took about three steps to realize that there was a little less pressure on your hip than there used to be. Your hand felt along the band of the bikini and came up blank. He’d taken your fucking money. 

You heard him giggling behind you once he knew you realized, but what was the point? Who would you call to get it back? The police?

By the end of the night, you counted your meager earnings and tucked it away in your bag. Without your dancewear and the makeup and the heels, you could pass for the average citizen of Stark County. 

You bundled up in a parka before you walked to your car, a shitty, beat-up car nearly older than you were. One of the side mirrors was ripped off, and the bumper was caved in, but she ran. 

Tucked into the windshield was a tiny note, in a messy, nearly illegible scrawl— Impress me next time. You crumpled it and tossed it onto the asphalt.

  You saw him again on Monday. The club was closed on Sunday, due to an ordinance that Roy Tillman had put in place about businesses of ill repute operating on the holy day. You wondered what he thought about his son bankrolling the lives of half of the strippers who worked at the club.

He was alone, though, which scared and comforted you in equal measure. You watched him from afar, sitting at the bar, drinking a White Claw and puffing on that stupid fucking vape. 

There was a girl in his lap, one of the newer dancers who didn’t know better. Whatever. She’d figure him out soon enough. 

Mondays were slow. You did a few dances onstage, made the rounds, flirted with some of the regulars. Gator was blissfully elsewhere, which you loved. 

The night had been pretty tame until just before last call, when an overserved realtor got loud and handsy. 

“C’mon, why don't you take me back to one of those rooms without the cameras?” One asked as you gave him a half-hearted lap dance. His breath was like a punch bowl at a senior prom, and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. 

You winced as he pulled you harder against him, and you felt the uncomfortable prod of his dick against you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was grinding up against you, sweaty at his temples and forehead. He was deceptively strong, holding you down against him so he could rut against you and get off. “Ya know, the private rooms for the big tippers. Better than all this over the clothes stuff.”

“You need to stop,” you said, as firmly as you could, shoving at his chest to really get your point across. He didn’t let up, and gave you a smarmy grin as he began roughly moving your hips of his own accord. “Hey, stop it, asshole.”

“Hey, you’re the one offerin’ me a dance,” he said. “I sold a nice big house today, got a real good commission. I could tip ya real good if you’re nice.”

“Let me go!” You shoved at his chest, slapping at him, but he just grinned. You were just wondering if biting his ear off would do the trick when you felt yourself pulled off him and tossed aside on the floor like a rag doll. 

Then there was the soft sound of blows landing against a stomach. Then the crunch of a broken nose. The wheezy rattle of the realtor’s breath once he started spitting up blood and teeth. Each punch made you flinch until finally, it relented. 

“Should’ve let her go, asshole.” Gator’s knuckles were bloodied, and you realized he was holding out a hand to help you up. You took it, nervously, and readjusted your costume where the realtor had tugged at them. “You hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine but is— I mean, is he gonna be okay?”

Gator’s brows furrowed as he spared a glance toward the bloodied pile of meat on the floor. He spat in his direction and shrugged. “Who fuckin’ cares? Goddamn lowlife.”

You wondered if he could sense the irony. His face lit up in recognition, then he knelt beside the realtor, patting him down, searching for something. He stood and held up a fancy, monogrammed leather wallet. 

He sifted through, retrieving bill after bill. “Here. Y’earned it.” It was more cash than you brought home in a week. More cash than anyone should carry on themselves at once. 

“I’m not taking that,” you said weakly. “I can’t.”

He rolled his eyes, tucking the money in your bra. “Such a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Can’t even say thank you or nothin’.”

He left you standing there over the broken body of the asshole realtor, who may or may not have been dying. Either way, you figured the Tillman’s would handle it. For better or worse.

  “I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” you argued, which was a lie. And it’s not like anyone would listen even if it wasn’t. Police are on their way, they said. They’ll deal with thieving filth like you.

Well… they didn’t have to get quite so personal. You sat outside the Manager’s office at the stupid fucking sex shop, picking at your cuticles until you heard the police cruiser roll up outside. You heard the door slam, and muffled chatter until you saw him walk in.

“Well… look who got herself into some trouble. And here of all places too.”

Fuck. Gator Fucking Tillman. 

You glanced up at him for a moment before returning to your nails. The shop owner was talking the deputy’s fucking ear off until you heard the question you dreaded. 

“What is it she was tryin’ to steal? I mean… there’s a lot to choose from, I’ll tell ya that.”

You watched with a thin sense of dread as the shop owner laid out your would-be haul of lingerie that had been stuffed into your purse. Gator grinned as he glanced over at you, then back at the lingerie. 

“Can I have the office? I need some privacy to interrogate the perp.” The manager complied, bending to the will of the law or whatever. Gator grabbed you by the arm and tugged you inside, closing the door firmly behind him. 

You watched as he strode towards the nice armchair behind the desk, then sat down, legs spread wide. He unzipped the stupid police vest and shrugged it off, so it landed in a pile on the floor. For a moment, it was quiet as you stared at him dumbly, then he snapped his fingers. 

“What? You want me to tell you why did it? Three fucking guesses.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “No, I want you to try it on.” 

You swallowed, and when you spoke your tongue felt dumb and heavy. “What?”

“You heard me. Try it all on, and tell me if it was worth the trouble.” He looked at you expectantly, and when you didn’t move, he sighed. “It’s this, or I take you to the station, get you booked, and all that. I doubt anyone’s gonna pay your bail, so that’s a few days before arraignment. Then it’s a court case for larceny, and let’s be honest, you’re guilty.”

You stared at him, speechless. He stood up suddenly, grabbing his things before you interrupted— “Wait! Wait. Just… sit back down.”

He grinned. “There’s a good girl. Make it good for me, yeah? You know how.”

You huffed, heart pounding as you grabbed the first set and turned around to change. You had just pulled off your shirt when he cleared his throat behind you. Your hands shook as you turned around, barely covering your tits. 

“C’mon, I said to make it good, Sweetheart,” he said with a thinly veiled sense of amusement. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

The fucking asshole. But you took a breath and steadied yourself. “Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. 

His gaze was intense, tracing each curve and dip of your body as you moved. You slipped the bra on, clipping it shut with shaking hands.

“Alright, now you can turn around,” he said, nodding towards the panties in your hand. “And do it nice and slow for me.”

Your face burned with embarrassment as you turned around, working the buttons of your skirt so you could slip it down your legs. It fell into a pile around your ankles and fanned out like a flower. You hooked your thumbs into the panties you were wearing, pink with little flowers spotting the fabric. As slowly as you could manage while terrified and pissed, you slipped them down your legs. 

When you spared a glance at Gator, he was smirking right back at you. “Give those here,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly. 

“What?”

“Geez, you’re fuckin’ dumb. Lemme see ‘em.” He more or less snatched the panties from your grip, smiling like the cat who got the cream as he held them up. “Might have to keep ‘em. Evidence.”

You swallowed down your annoyance and pulled the lacy panties up your legs. When you were finished, you turned, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Shockingly, he was quiet as he looked at you, eyes raking over your tits, and every bare piece of skin he could see. It felt like you stood there under his gaze for hours before he finally spoke up. 

“It’s not doin’ much for ya, sweetheart. I mean, you don’t look very fuckable.”

It landed like a blow to your gut. He was an asshole, so it should’ve meant nothing… but he knew exactly where your soft spots were, and just how hard to dig his fingers in. “Fuck you, Gator.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he cooed, patronizing and smug. “So fuckin’ sensitive, huh? Can’t take a joke. C’mere, lemme see you.” He grabbed your wrist in the tightly packed office and tugged you forward, so you practically stumbled on top of him.

You flinched as his hand moved up the back of your thigh, warm and calloused. When he gave your ass a rough squeeze, you closed your eyes and shivered. 

“Ya know, I saw your husband the other day.” His finger traced along the name on your hip— Jack. Every loop and whorl of the cursive claimed by his touch. “Looked real happy with that girl of his. Sarah, right? The waitress he was fuckin’ behind your back?”

You swallowed hard and said nothing, but he was more than happy to keep running his mouth. “Well, she’s not special. I’ve fucked Sarah too, and she just laid there like a dead fish the whole time.”

“Maybe you just weren’t that good.” You smirked as you replied, unable to resist being a bit of an asshole right back. 

“You gettin’ smart right now?” He gave your ass a quick slap, making you squeak. “I was trying to give you a compliment, but you don’t fuckin’ deserve it. You’re so fuckin’ used up that you don’t even know what good is.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you think that. It’s easy to blame it on the girl when you can’t make ‘em cum, right?”

His jaw clenched, anger painting his features. “Wouldn’t you fuckin’ like to know, huh?” He caught sight of the smirk on your face and shoved you back. “Put on the next one.”

Fucking dickhead. You rolled your eyes and quickly stripped off the lingerie, throwing it in his general direction once it was off. You weren’t as graceful in dressing in the next set. Why give him a show and let him win? Once it was on, you crossed your arms and looked at him expectantly. 

“Well?”

He cocked his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I like it better than the first, but I don’t think your heart’s quite in it. Gimme a twirl.”

You gave a slow turn, then met his gaze again, raising a brow. He ran a hand over his mouth, looking you up and down. You caught the slightest movement as he spread his legs a little wider. It only served to highlight the bulge in the front of his stupid fucking cargos.

“You’re really enjoyin’ yourself, huh?” You snapped, eyes narrowed. He laughed, following your gaze to his lap. 

“Well,” he began, lazily moving a hand to cup his growing hard-on. “I could always find a way to enjoy myself more. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You ignored him and began trying on the last set you’d attempted to steal. A bright red set, skimpier than the others, which you were sure he fucking loved. Before he could ask, you gave a slow twirl. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed. He was blatantly stroking himself over the fabric, eyes half-lidded. You swallowed hard, watching the sight before you. It was like something out of a bad porno. Or a really good one. Jury was out. He patted his thigh, nodding you over. “C’mere, I won’t bite.”

A moment of hesitation passed through you, wondering if this was really what you wanted. It was like you could hear his voice in your head, asking if you could do any better. You sighed and slowly settled onto his lap. He looked at you with a funny sort of expression— not so much that he was smug, just… a bit pleased. 

“You gonna give me a dance?” His hand rested on your thigh, fingers tapping erratically. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes. “Is this ‘cause I didn’t pay the other night?” You scowled. “I mean, I think you owe me now. I paid ya back a hundred times over thanks to Mr. Realtor from the other day.”

   You stayed silent and still, looking anywhere but his face. He took your chin between his fingers and turned you to face him, so close you could taste the fruit flavor from that goddamn vape on his breath. 

“Remember how turned on you got just from havin’ my cock in that pretty mouth of yours?” He said, voice barely above a whisper. He ran a thumb along your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly. “I still remember the way you had to slip a hand between your legs to play with yourself.”

You made a weak sound in the back of your throat as you remembered it— that desperate, all-consuming need. Maybe it’s because he was an asshole, or maybe it was all of the authority. Maybe that’s why you shoplifted anyway. Because you knew he’d be the one to show up. 

“You ever been with someone as big as me before?”

You shivered. “No.”

A wide smile spread across his lips. “Since?” You just shook your head. “Betcha been dreamin’ about it too. Stuffin’ that greedy little pussy full of your fingers whenever you think about me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t quite deny it. It wasn’t a frequent fantasy, but it was there. “You’re a real narcissist. You know that?”

He grinned. “That’s not a no, is it?” He leaned in closer, nuzzling against your throat, his breath hot. “Bet if I slipped my hand inside those panties, they’d be fuckin’ soaked.”

And despite your better judgment, you fucking whimpered. All but confirming it. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” he cooed. His hand found purchase on the small of your back, and when he applied the smallest bit of pressure, you found yourself giving in. Slowly, your hips ground against his, making a soft sigh escape your lips each time your cunt met his clothed dick. 

“Want me to find some music?” He asked with a boyish grin. “I bet I have Pony somewhere on my phone.”

You shook your head before he could even try to grab it. “I’ll kill you if you even try.” He laughed, just a bit. It was rare to hear him laugh and have it not be at your, or anyone else’s expense. 

You grabbed his hands, moving them to your waist, just at your ribcage. The tips of his fingers brushed against your tits, and he smiled.

“Takin’ charge now, are ya? You could’ve just put ‘em right here.” He moved his hands up, cupping your breasts in his large hands. You moaned softly as he gave a slight squeeze, arching into his touch. “ See? That’s much better, huh? Just take what you need, baby. I’ll give it right to ya.”

Take what you need? You could do that. You moved your hands along his chest, fighting the urge to just tear off his shirt and reveal the white tank top you knew he always wore beneath. Instead, you slipped your hands to his goddamn cargos and made quick work of the button and zipper. 

He sat back and watched as you spit into your palm, his eyes hazy with arousal. You slipped your hand inside his pants and slipped beneath the band of his plaid boxers. A low groan escaped his lips when you wrapped your hand around him and squeezed.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Just like that.” His head fell back, leaving the plane of his neck for the taking. Your lips pressed against the skin there, leaving a mixture of soft kisses and bites as you worked him in your hand. 

Gator’s stamina was absolute dogshit. You could tell when he was close from the way he’d pulse in your hand and whimper like a fuckin’ girl. You’d just have to squeeze him at his base to stave it off, give him a few seconds to cool off before you kept going. 

“You want me?” You asked, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. 

“So fuckin’ bad.” He was bucking up into your fist, chasing the sweet pleasure of your soft hand around him. 

A smile spread across your lips. “Then earn it.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze as you removed your hand from him. 

He sat there, panting and staring dumbly as you sat atop the desk and spread your legs invitingly. “C’mon, Gator. You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

He huffed with annoyance as he stood, towering over you as he pulled off his shirt to reveal that fucking tank top. He leaned down just slightly, so his arms were caging you in. “I’ll fuckin’ earn it, alright. I’m gonna own this pussy by the time I’m through.”

He knelt between your legs, kissing his way up your thighs. You cried out as his teeth dug into the plush skin, leaving an indentation that would probably turn purple the next day. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” He just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down. 

He was quick to drag his fingers through your slit, coating them in your arousal. The wet sounds of him playing with you, spreading you open for him, made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“I’m an asshole, but you clearly fuckin’ like it, huh?” He said, holding up his fingers, glistening with your juices, as proof. His smirk made annoyance and arousal bubble up within you, tangling in an utterly infuriating way. “Relax for me, yeah? Gonna stretch you out, make you feel real good.”

You moaned softly as his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing you with the idea of being full. A gentleman would start off slow, work you up to two fingers gradually. Gator Tillman wasn’t a fucking gentleman, but you didn’t care. 

“Shhh… open up for me,” He said, speaking not to you, but to your cunt. “That’s it, atta girl.” A low whimper escaped you as his fingers pressed inside, thick and stretching you just right. Your walls fluttered around the intrusion, needing him deeper, more, more.

“Jesus Christ, Gator,” His fingers flexed at just the right spot, making you cry out desperately. He grinned, then pressed a kiss to your thigh as he began fucking you with his fingers, acutely aware that the slightest twitch of his fingers could make you fucking sing for him. 

It’s a funny thing he does with his fingers— not quite jackhammering them in and out like most of the other guys you’d been with but not exactly too far away. And you were fucking whining for it, your hips canting against his fingers until he finally had to throw his arm across your pelvis to just, in his words, keep you fuckin’ still.

It felt good, but you were also very aware that he was purposefully, or, worse, unknowingly avoiding your clit. The more you considered it, the more convinced you were that it was the latter. He was homeschooled, apparently, by his religious nut father, which meant his sex ed was probably just porn, and not even the decent kind. 

You squirmed slightly. “Gator—”

“’M busy.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. I mean, sure, he was good with his hands, but you would also appreciate that skill applied elsewhere. Whatever, you weren’t helpless. 

His eyes narrowed as you moved a hand between your legs, circling your clit in time with his fingers. Your head fell back as a string of moans escaped your lips. That’s what you needed. 

“God, you’re desperate,” he muttered, but he didn’t bother to redirect your hands. “I coulda done that.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t already so close, the pressure and attention to your clit exactly what you needed to fall over the edge. 

“I feel you squeezin’ my fingers,” he said, voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Wanna cum that bad, huh? Can’t even take what I give ya? Are you that fuckin’ needy?” When you didn’t think to answer, he leaned over and bit your thigh again. Harder.

“Fuck!” You shouted, annoyed that you’d have a second set of bruises to cover. But your annoyance melted right back into the siren call of pleasure. 

Moans tumbled from your lips before you could bring yourself to answer. “Yes, I’m that needy,” You gasped as his fingers moved deeper, harder with every thrust in. Your fingers moved faster on your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of Gator’s shoulders.

He let you teeter there on the precipice for a little longer, until you were sure you were going to tumble straight into sweet ecstasy. So close you could taste it, sweet and heady on the back of your tongue. 

And like that, Gator pulled away, slipping his fingers from your cunt and leaving you wanting. You sat there, panting and frustrated as he wiped his fingers off on your thigh. “Too fuckin’ bad. Bend over.”

He slapped the side of your thigh as he stood and looked down at you expectantly. Your legs wobbled as you stood in what little room he provided you, tits brushing against his chest for just a moment as you turned and bent over the desk. 

“Isn’t this a pretty sight?” He grabbed your ass, kneading the plush skin roughly before landing a rough smack. You winced at the sting as you spared a glance over your shoulder. He landed another slap on the opposite cheek, then spread you apart with his thumbs. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, you know that?”

He was quick to free his cock from the confines of his cargos and boxers. Over your shoulder, you could see the heap of clothes he’d made on the floor. In the back of your mind, you noted the very careless way he treated the gun in his thigh holster, but said nothing. It was hard to focus on improper gun handling when he had his length in his hand, stroking it slowly as he took in the sight of you. 

“You’re gonna pull out, right?” You asked, chewing your lip as you looked at him.

He rolled his eyes, the tip of his cock notched right at your entrance, making you arch against him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. I’m not stupid, I’ll pull out.”

The prettiest groan escaped him as he rocked against your cunt, coating himself in your dripping arousal before the head of his cock nudged at your entrance. 

“You want me?” He asked, his breath coming in pants. Your body felt like a fucking live wire, hyperaware of the feeling of him, just barely outside of where you craved him.

You nodded. “Uh-huh. I want you. So bad, Gator.”

He sank into you, nice and slow, so he could relish in the warm, soft feeling of your walls around him. A sappier man would’ve said it felt like heaven. Gator wasn’t sappy. 

“Goddamn, you’ve got the tightest fuckin’ pussy,” He managed once he’d bottomed out, every inch of him fully sheathed inside. “Forget what I said about you bein’ used up.”

What a gentleman. You whined softly, pushing back against him to silently beg for more. He put a hand on the small of your back and pushed down so your back arched even more. Then he fucked you in earnest. 

The noises you made should’ve been illegal— some form of indecency or something. Loud and whiny, desperate for more. Your nails scratched at the laminate of the desk, seeking something, anything to hold onto for purchase as he fucked you within an inch of your life. 

He was so big you could’ve sworn you felt him deep in your stomach, even though you knew physically that was impossible. Each thrust punched out a keening moan from your lips, a swear, a breathy whine, or just his stupid fucking name over and over again. 

He reached a hand beneath you, so his rough fingers could play with your clit. “This is what you wanted so bad, yeah?” He asked, voice breathy as he quickly rubbed your clit. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Gator.” You were practically babbling. Thank you thank you thank you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched him using your body, chasing his high. Every slap of your ass was for his own gratification, just to see it jiggle. He was only rubbing your clit so he could feel you squeeze him even tighter. 

You didn’t care. You fucking loved it. Even as he manhandled you, lifting your thigh and placing it on the desk so he could fuck you deeper, you just laid there and took it like a fucking champ. 

“Woulda fucked you sooner if I knew it’d be this good.” His voice wavered slightly with the effort it took to maintain the relentless pace he had set. He slapped your ass hard, making you yelp and clench around him. 

What you’d said earlier was right— you were needy. You rocked back against him, meeting him with each thrust. The sounds of his hips hitting your ass with each thrust were nearly as pornographic as both of your moans. 

Gator didn’t shut up most of the time, but when he was buried inside of you he could mostly only manage pretty moans. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart. You’re… you’re really workin’ for it, huh?” His words were interrupted by low moans and grunts. “C’mon. Give it to me.”

He let you do most of the work, rocking back against him, making you fuck yourself on his cock. And he looked fucking smug about it too. 

The switch snapped suddenly when he grabbed your hips and fucked you without abandon, skin slapping against skin as he roughly bullied himself inside of you again and again. 

“That’s it. Just lay there and take it, sweetheart.” His voice was breathy and strained. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Fuck! That’s it. Just like that.”

He came suddenly, thrusting deep and hard as he spilled within you. It annoyed you that he looked pretty when he came— his mouth ajar, eyes fluttered shut, his body trembling just slightly. 

And then you were annoyed because he fucking lied. He pulled out after he had ridden the aftershocks with a few shallow thrusts and quickly redressed. 

“You didn’t pull out,” you said, your voice was strained with annoyance and anger as you looked back at him. He was getting dressed, making sure he looked alright. He didn’t even care to get you off. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered by it all. But you saw the annoyed tick in his jaw, the anger beneath it. Like a rattlesnake all coiled up, ready to strike if you made the wrong move. You were never on equal terms. You were no better than prey. And you should have known better, right?

Annoying, hot tears welled on your lashline, and you prayed to any higher power that he wouldn’t notice as you wiped at your eyes. You stood, doing your best to redress in silence, doing your best to remain small. He slapped a fifty on the desk and you flinched. “Buy some Plan B if you’re that fuckin’ worried about it. Jesus Christ.” He paused as he reached the door. “I’ll tell the manager we got it all sorted out. Isn’t that good enough for ya?”

You stood there, unsatisfied and used, with his cum leaking out of you, and stayed silent. It wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t anything at all. 

You walked out with fifty dollars, streaked mascara, three sets of lingerie you’d throw in the trash, and a newfound desire to get the fuck out of Stark County. And, maybe, some misplaced hope that next time might be different.

[stxrrwritess]

who you belong to.

( art not mine )

monty gator x reader smut

MINORS DNI !!

warnings : afab!reader, jealous sex, rough sex, slight degradation ( use of whore, slut ), size difference (?), oral ( fem receiving ), poorly written smut LOL

word count : 807

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As the mechanic, your job basically consisted of being friendly with all of the glamrocks. You’d figured it was easier to get to know them rather than just barge in and start working on their wires. Over time, you’d developed an .. interesting relationship with none other than Montgomery Gator, the most aggressive of the four animatronics. On this particular day, you had to tend to Freddy a little more than the others, mainly because of a glitch he had during a performance which resulted in a freak out of the children and quite a few adults.

After you had finished up in Freddy’s green room, you said goodbye and left, only to find Monty leaning on the wall, arms crossed and a not-so pleasant expression on his face. “Oh, hey Monty. You okay? Vanessa told me you didn’t need a check up today so I-,” before you could finish, you were yanked rather harshly by the forearm towards the Gator’s green room. “H-Hey! Monty, what’s going on?” You asked, skeptical on why he was acting so strange. You two had been fucking, sure. But you’d never have thought he’d be so annoyed that you were just doing your job. “Shut it, whore.” He grumbled under his breath, opening the door to his room and throwing you onto his mangled up couch. “Too fuckin’ busy to come in an’ even say ‘hello’? Too caught up with Fazbear?” He asked, as he moved to rip your work shirt off, causing your tits to pop out. “No, Monty, He had a glitch today. You saw it.” You protested, but you couldn’t deny that seeing this jealous side of him was.. oddly hot.

“I’m gonna remind ya who ya belong to.” He spoke, discarding of your pants and your panties, revealing your wet snatch to him. His large hands traveled over your body, stopping to grope your boobs and a small whine escaped your lips. After a few moments, he stopped and pried your legs open. Leaning down, he ran a wet stripe up your heat, eliciting a low moan from you. He teased your clit, before you hit his forearm that was holding your thigh gently. “Stop teasing, Montgomery!” You complained, before he finally stuck his strangely long tongue into you, eating you out like he hadn’t eaten in days. You threw your head back in ecstasy, your hand gripping his red mohawk. “M-Monty, Fuck-“ You gasped as soft moans and whines emitted from you. When he sensed you were getting close to the edge, he pulled away. You opened your mouth to give out to him, but he interrupted you. “You ain’t cummin’ unless it’s on my fuckin’ cock.” He growled, picking you up harshly and moving to his vanity, bending you over, your tits flush against the table. You glanced up at yourself, your forehead was glistened with sweat and your cheeks flushed.

Monty wasted no time in discarding his pants, as he pushed the tip of his dick past your gummy walls. No matter how many times you two fucked, his size always surprised you. “T-Too big..” You murmured under your breath, looking up at him in the mirror with pleading eyes. “Take it, slut.” He grunted and with one sharp thrust, he bottomed out in you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you inhaled sharply, feeling his dick fill you up so nicely. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, as he started thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, yanking your hair back to make you look at yourself in the mirror. “Tell me, who’s fuckin’ ya? Who’s makin’ ya feel this good, huh?” He gave a rougher thrust at the end of his sentence to emphasize his point. “Y-You, you are, fuck!” You rasped, “I got a name, use it. Tell me who ya belong to.” He groaned, feeling you clench around him like a vice. “Monty, you, please just - don’t fucking stop!” You begged, your hands gripping onto his vanity as you felt your knees begin to buckle. “Hnngh- I’m, fuck, Y/N. I’m gettin’ close..” He removed his hand from your hair and placed both of his hands on your hips, holding onto them with bruising force. It didn’t take long for you to cum around him, considering he had edged you before this. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, your vision going blurry for a few seconds. Monty followed a few moments later, painting your insides white with a grunt. He pulled out, and moved to scoop you up into his arms as he sat on the couch. “Uh.. Shit. Sorry if I went too hard on ya.. It’s jus’, ya know how I get ‘bout Fazbear.” He chuckled sheepishly, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

You should get him jealous more often, if this is the outcome.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a/n

hope you enjoyed x3 honestly idk how to write smut that well, i just let my hands do the typing while i zone out for a solid 20 minutes. if there’s anything i can improve on do let me know ! ( i’m def super repetitive in the way that i write but oh well )

[buckysgrace]

could i get a soft gator fic? like a lazy sunday morning where gator is all lovey dovey over reader?

Of course!! All fluff but some suggestive content of course <3

By now you were usually dressed your best, hair pristine and makeup neat before you debated on which dress you'd be wearing to church. Gator would usually be dressed at the door, hollering for you to hurry so Roy didn't whine about having to hold your spots.

This morning was different as the sun drifted in through the windows, the AC tickling your curtains as the hot rays warmed your floorboards.

Gator was facing you, his expression calm and hair relaxed and gel free. You could see a glimpse of his chest hair underneath the sheets, the blanket discarded on the floor to his side. He had a bad habit of being a blanket hog, then kicking it off in the middle of the night.

You stretched your arms out over your head, his fingers still lying lazily against your highest ribs. His breathing was deep, relaxed and peaceful. You hated to wake him, but you also knew that he hated to sleep in late.

"Gator," You hummed as you shifted over, grinning at the way he jolted before he blinked at you tiredly. He had an irritated look on his expression as he rubbed at his eyes, wiping the sleep away, "We're going to be late for church."

"Fuck church." His voice was raspy, groggy as his eyes remained shut. You felt your jaw part in surprise at his lanugage.

"Gator!"

"Just teasin'," He smiled lazily as he rubbed at his eyes, "Don't worry I'll pray to God about it. Just not today." He sighed, his eyelids remaining shut as he pulled his pillow closer to his head with one hand. The other one remained on your skin.

"Are you going to sleep all day?" You teased him as you brushed your fingers through his hair. You counted the moles on his face, admiring the little freckles that painted his nose. He looked a little tanner, probably from the summer sun and being stuck doing so much farm work recently.

"Mhm." He hummed along, although you weren't sure if he was agreeing with your statement or not. He had worked late last night, he deserved a day to sleep in.

"I'm going to make breakfast," You told him softly, leaning on your elbow to kiss his cheek, "You kicked the blanket onto the floor again." You added as you shifted out of bed, taking careful movements to not distrub him too greatly.

You tossed the comforter over him, ensuring that it covered his exposed skin before you worked on getting yourself ready for the morning. A quick shower and scrub of your teeth left you wide awake. You dressed lazily today, a pair of leggings and a shirt that was a little too baggy.

Breakfast consisted of some of the eggs you had gathered the day prior, some bacon that Gator had grabbed from the butchers in town, and of course, pancakes. He was fairly fond of them.

"Mornin'," Gator mumbled as he slid his arms around your waist, his chin falling to the crook of your neck as you struggled to stir up the scrambled eggs, "Smells good."

You turned your head slightly, finally greeted with his big pretty eyes. They were usually big and brown, but today you noticed a hint of grin hiding in them through the sunlight.

"About time you woke up," You teased, inviting the soft peck he placed against your lips, "Did you sleep good?" You asked, tasting the mint on his lips. "Always do with you," He grinned as he took a step back, his hair still slightly messy from waking up, "What about you?" He mumbled, the muscles in his back staring you down as he poured himself a glass of coffee. You forced yourself to turn, not wanting anything to end up burning on the stove.

"Not bad," You hummed in agreement, "You kept kicking me last night." You teased him playfully, still sure that he fought people in his sleep. It explained the blanket that always ended up on the floor as well.

"Sorry," He smiled sheepishly as he pulled his coffee cup back from his lips, "Not too hard?" He looked at you for clarity, a guilty expression lingering on his features as if that would somehow be his fault.

"Must've been dreaming about riding the horses again." You waved the spatula at him teasingly before you slid the skillet with eggs off of the hot burner. The pancakes were already resting on a plate, leaving only the sizzling bacon to finish.

"Funny," He grumbled as he took another drink of his coffee, "What do you want to do today?" He asked curiously, tilting his head as he took another drink from his mug.

"Nothing," You answered honestly as you finished picking the bacon out of the hot pan, "We didn't go to church, so we might as well stay home." You grinned, feeling like a day in felt nice. You could pick back up on where you left off on Golden Girls.

His eyes were warm, mischievous as he watched you. He cocked his eyebrows for a moment as he tilted his head back and forth, biting down on his soft pink lips.

"Not really hungry," He admitted as you began to make his plate, his strong arms wrapping around your waist once again as he nuzzled his nose against your neck. You laughed, squinting your eyes shut at the way it tickled, "At least not for that."

"You're the funny one," You remarked with a grin, setting the plate down as he began to kiss all over your face, "You're gonna risk your breakfast getting cold?"

"We have a microwave for a reason," He smiled as he bent down to peck your lips, staying there for just a moment too long, "But after breakfast works too." He smiled as he flicked his tongue out, licking your lips playfully.

"You're a mess," You grinned as you pressed a finger against his chest, trying to ignore the way your stomach was twisting with butterflies, "Eat your breakfast." You commanded playfully, holding the plate out for him to grab.

"As long as you're dessert." He smirked, smacking his palm across your ass cheek before he scattered to the living room.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Simon hadn't planned on committing expulsion-worthy crime at 10am on a Thursday. In fact, he hadn't planned on committing expulsion-worthy crime ever. In his defense, though, his best friend's ghost had been emphatic about getting into Mr. Anderson's phone, and it'd been the only course of action he could think of to prove she could rely on him. Simon had regretted it as soon as it'd happened. Fuck my life, I guess.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: panic attacks. eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.17

Simon found you at your locker at the tail-end of lunch, trading sketchbooks for your copy of Frankenstein and your English binder. Mathilda stood beside you, merrily outlining her upcoming interview with an administrator from some posh, East Coast art academy.

You smiled and nodded in the appropriate places; giggled when Mathilda commented on something Hana had said at lunch. However, Simon noted, you weren't offering a lot in the way of conversation.

Mathilda clocked Simon first, lengthened her short frame as much as she could—spine straight, shoulders back, chin up—and leveled him with a look that could boil water. It took him a second to remember they shared History. That she'd been in Ms. Fields' class when Simon had accused Xavier of hurting Maddie and had forced the contents of Xavier's backpack to spill in front of an audience.

He wanted to pretend her hostility toward him didn't sting—because it didn't, right? They weren't friends. Mathilda hadn't shown anything but superficial interest in him since Xavier and Maddie became XavierandMaddie. To her, Simon was Maddie's plus-one. The guy Maddie took everywhere she went. Linus' security blanket in human form.

Of course, that reality only existed if Simon completely disregarded that it'd been Mathilda who'd always asked after Simon; had extended every invitation to join them for group events. She'd driven Simon home on multiple occasions, even when it'd made more sense that Hana and Lucas would have since they shared a neighborhood.

Shit, maybe he and Mathilda were friends? He'd never considered it before. How you and Mathilda and—aw crap that's right: Eli—had made significant efforts to get to know Simon. Had welcomed him into the fold of pre-established friendship and encouraged him to carve out his own place within it.

And to show his appreciation, Simon had lunged after Xavier like a vendetta with claws.

Simon waved at Mathilda weakly, eyes darting away from hers when she doubled down and fiercened her glower. Despite his height advantage, Simon considered running to the Philippines to stay with his aunt. He'd request a room with reinforced steel walls and a couple of security guards outside the door, just in case.

Did Mathilda have her passport? He should ask.

"I'm gonna head to Media," Mathilda announced before you were even aware of Simon's presence. "I'll see you in Bio." She flipped her long, purple-black hair, deliberately whipping Simon in the face with the ends as she swanned by.

"Later gator," You replied, offhand, shutting your locker and, "Oh, hey," catching Simon as he slunk into the space Mathilda had vacanted.

Simon watched Mathilda warily until she disappeared into the stream of students. Partly because he felt a weird kind of fucked up for not having sooner recognized the olive branch of friendship Mathilda had been brandishing, but mostly because he was batshit terrified she'd reappear just to punch him in the nuts.

Needing a second opinion, he blurted, "Are Mathilda and I friends?"

You startled, spluttering around an answer before reminding him, "Didn't you go with her and Eli to Comiccon when everyone else bailed?"

Holy shit. With everything going on, Simon had genuinely forgotten about that adventure. Xavier was 'too cool'. Maddie and Nicole hadn't been interested, you'd been visiting your dad in England and, well, he didn't know why Hana and Lucas had backed out, but Simon had been given Lucas' ticket. Told to treat it like a months-late birthday present.

Mathilda knew when his birthday was.

Simon groaned and hit the back of his head on the locker he leaned against. "I fucked up."

"You really didn't think she thought of you as her friend?"

"No comment." Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. Watched stars explode behind his eyes when he rubbed his lids with the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

After a short lull, you asked, "You know we're friends, right?"

"Yes?" Simon replied, the upward lilt of punctuation prompting a sour expression to your face.

"You're an idiot."

Simon readjusted so he was tilted on his shoulder, putting every ounce of apology he had in him behind his next words, "I'm sorry. I just...I figured you guys let me hang out because Maddie and I are a package deal."

Were, a voice not unlike Maddie's unhelpfully corrected, we were a package deal.

"I repeat: You're an idiot." But you said it with humor, giving Simon a crooked smile and a harmless whack to the arm. "Look, none of us pretend we're as close to you as you are to Maddie, but, Si, that doesn't mean we wouldn't help you hide a—" Body.

Simon saw the instant your brain caught up to your mouth and suddenly you curled into yourself; crossed your arms and ducked your chin into your chest.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Hey, it's okay." For the first time in a long time (perhaps the first time ever), Simon reached out to you, put a hand on your shoulder, and squeezed. "I get it." Quiet, touched, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And don't worry," You assured him, "Tilly won't hold it against you forever. Once we expose Mr. A and clear Xavier's name, she'll forget what you did to him."

"If you say so," Simon muttered. Belatedly, he registered, "Mr. A?" He hadn't heard anyone refer to Mr. Anderson as Mr. A and, as far as he knew, the only teachers to earn a friendly nickname from their senior classmates were Mrs. Bloom, the Drama teacher, and Mr. Fitzgerald, the band director. Bloomageddon and Fitz-G respectively.

You carried on as if Simon hadn't said anything, "Speaking of clearing Zav's name, I have an idea. But we'll have to do it after school when he's busy with Booster Club."

Simon remembered then why he'd sought you out, shifting to curl a hand around the phone in his sweater pocket.

"His fingerprints have to be all over that money," You explained in a stage whisper, "If we can get it to the police, they'll have to arrest him." You nudged closer when Simon didn't say anything, somehow reading him like a picture book, "Or...you have a different plan?"

Taking a fortifying breath, Simon volunteered, "I'm gonna show you something, and you can't freak out."

Dubious, "Oh-kay~."

He leaned closer, gently turned you so there was a little cave of privacy between both your bodies and the lockers. You glanced around, checking for possible eavesdroppers, before giving Simon your full attention and, damn, being on the receiving end made Simon's pulse quicken a little.

He shoved the thought aside before it could gain any ground, unwilling to make room within himself for anything that didn't directly impact locating Maddie's body.

"You can trust me, Simon."

"I know," He said, though he still needed a moment to build the confidence to show you what he'd done.

Although you'd already proven you were in this with him, willing to drown in the same dark pool of questions to resolve Maddie's murder. Although you'd obviously spent time and energy constructing a plan that, upon hearing it, Simon had to concede was a lot smarter than what he'd done. Although you'd admitted you and he were friends and you'd help him cover up a crime at the drop of a hat...

Simon was scared. Scared that he'd done the wrong thing; that he'd get expelled; that he'd hallucinated his best friend and had stolen someone's property because, oh fuck, he had a brain tumor or dormant schizophrenia or—

"Breathe." You ordered, hand flattened over Simon's heart, taking long, deep breaths of your own for Simon to mimic.

And, oh God, you'd lifted his hand from his pocket as he'd been spiraling, pressed it to your chest so he could feel the steadiness of your heartbeat under his palm. Placed safely above inappropriate, warm skin and hard bone, rising and falling slowly as you talked in a calming rhythm.

He sucked in a shuddery breath, then another, and another, lungs finally expanding to accommodate the air he so desperately needed. It took another minute for the spots in his vision to recede, another minute after that for embarrassment to flush under his skin like a sunburn.

"Sorry." He gasped, taking his hand back and returning it to his pocket. "I..."

"Stop thinking, Simon." You said in an aloe-vera tone, the sound of it cooling the hot prickle of humiliation before it calcified. "Are you okay?"

You'd asked him that almost every day since the APEX. Hell, just last night you'd made sure he was okay to drive home after your sister had called you in for dinner.

"Yeah." He said, not sure how much he meant it, but decidedly averse to unpacking his trauma in a semi-crowded hallway. "Thanks for..." What? "For that." He ended lamely and cast his gaze to his feet.

With a distinct note of sadness, you admitted, "Xavier spent a year helping me...breathe."

And Simon was grateful that you phrased it that way, suddenly drained and unable to receive another frank overture of support.

"So, what am I not freaking out about?"

Simon could kiss you, seriously. "Right, yeah." He made sure no one was watching when he pulled out Mr. Anderson's phone and held it between you and him.

You raised an eyebrow, "You want me not to freak out about your phone?"

"Not mine," Simon murmured, "Mr. Anderson's. I grabbed it off his desk this morning."

Without missing a beat, "Is it locked?"

Simon almost did kiss you then, a fizzy cocktail of so damn grateful and so damn pleased that you didn't immediately chew his head off and spit it out in front of Principal Hartman.

"Yeah. And I don't have the code. But if we can find out who he was talking to last night—"

"—We might find out what happened to Maddie." You finished, nodding like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Alright. I bet there's a YouTube tutorial for hacking into phones." Simon hadn't thought of that.

"I'll look into it. I've got a free period 'til sixth, I'll see what I can find."

"Good." You stared at the phone, eyes narrowing, "You turned it off, right?"

"No..?" Simon said as he stuffed the phone back in his pocket.

Alarmed, "Simon, if he has that Find My Phone app, he's going to catch you! You could get expelled! You need to turn it off now!"

That was another excellent point Simon hadn't thought of.

"Alright, I read you loud and clear, Major Tom, I'm turning it off." He appeased and pulled the phone out again.

"I swear to God, Simon, if you get expelled and leave me alone in this giant pile of shit, I'm gonna end up going after him with a—" You stopped before you revealed what manner of weapon you'd use, diverting yourself to, "With the threat of bodily harm."

Simon looked you up and down, uncertain how effective that would be.

"Fine." You yielded, "I'd sic Tilly on him."

Simon snorted, the image as horrifying as it was awesome. He briefly wondered if you and he shouldn't recruit Mathilda to the investigation. She was tenacious and clever and probably knew a thing or two since her mother was a big-shot lawyer who commuted to the city every morning to prosecute criminals.

"Why wasn't that our first plan?" He joked and then returned his attention to the phone.

Just as he was about to press the button to turn the damn thing off, a throat cleared behind him, followed by an unsettlingly pacified voice.

"Simon Elroy?"

Ms. Chung. The grief counselor.

Fuck his whole life, front to back.

He quickly hid the phone in his pocket and spun around, forgot that you and he had been stood particularly close until he heard you grunt, his backpack knocking you in the chest.

"Um, yes?" He answered politely while inside he cursed that he couldn't plead for you not to leave him alone with her.

"Can I have a word, please?" Ms. Chung asked, the inferred privately directed over his shoulder at you. Her open expression didn't falter, even as Simon began to stumble over a half-baked excuse. "This will only take a moment," She assured and took a meaningful step closer.

You came around and bumped Simon's shoulder with yours. Friendly, casual, except that your gaze was fixed on Ms. Chung. Something unpleasant churned beneath the public face of respect you gave her, and if Simon didn't know better, he'd think she'd committed some sort of offense against you.

Ms. Chung, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed, returning your odd standoffishness with a serene, Woodstock smile.

Had you already been to see her?

At last, "I'll see you in Psych," you said and excused yourself, leaving Simon woefully alone for Ms. Chung to poke, prod, pry his feelings out of him one by one.

It was fine. He was fine. He'd let her say her piece, tell her what she wanted to hear to get her off his back and be on his way.

Ms. Chung's eyes glittered and her smile grew teeth.

Simon audibly gulped.

💀___________________________

PART SIXTEEN - PART EIGHTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Coworkers With Benefits – Gator Tillman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what are we waiting for?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking hell, Gator!"

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

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

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

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

"Kinky," I giggled.

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

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

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

"Hey, Dad."

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

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

* * * * *

Gator's POV

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

Of course, I did.

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

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

"I think she went home," he shrugged.

"What do you mean?" I panicked.

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

Y/N left work.

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

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

"What?"

"Is this Gator Tillman?"

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

"Dad!" I yelled.

"What's your problem?" He scoffed.

"Y/N is in the hospital."

"Who?"

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

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

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

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

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

"She's hurt, Dad."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, Dad."

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Spit it out, Gator."

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

"Does she feel the same?"

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

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

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

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

"How is she?!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Gator. . ."

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

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

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

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

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

"Promise?" She asked, her voice breaking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," she said, her voice shaky.

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

"Not really," she stuttered.

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

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

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

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

"I told my dad," I said softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gator. . ."

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

"Gator. . ."

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

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

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

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

"I promise to always say it back."

"I love you, Gator," she giggled.

"I love you too, Y/N."

Part 2