TW : age gap, blackmail, Ben but for other reasons lol, BIG shitshow
Words : 3.9k
A/N : Bad insomnia .... wrote all night long .... chapter's already ready ... bon appétit !!!! <3
Gator made dinner, but something was off. You sat at the counter while he cooked, watching him move around the kitchen with his broad back to you. Usually he would be talking, complaining about something or stealing kisses whenever he walked past you. Tonight, he seemed determined to focus on whatever was happening in the pan. You lasted maybe five minutes in this awkward silence before you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you mad at me ?” Gator immediately looked over his shoulder.
“No.”
“You're acting weird.”
“I'm cooking baby.” He sighed and you looked down at your hands, feeling like a scolded child. After a few seconds, Gator turned the burner down a little and faced you properly. “Don’t do that thing where you decide what I'm thinking about because I'm not talking enough.” You looked at him.
“I asked you a question and you practically ran away.”
“I walked ten fucking feet into the kitchen baby.” He sighed again and his shoulders dropped slightly. “I shouldn't have shut you down like that, I’m sorry.” Well shit, you weren’t expecting that. “Still don't wanna talk about having a kid tonight, but I shouldn't have acted like you were fucking insane for asking.” You picked at your fingernail.
“I only asked because of what you said.”
“I know.” Gator rubbed his jaw. “I like saying that shit, always have. I guess that’s my ego speaking, it’s thrilling to think I could like … breed you or something.” You cringed a little at his choice of words. He leaned back against the counter. “But I'm forty-three, baby.”
“You already said that, that’s irrelevant.” He chuckled and stared at the floor for a second, shaking his head.
“It’s very relevant baby. If we did that in a couple years, I'm what ? Forty-five ? Forty-six ? Kid starts kindergarten, I'm over fifty already. Graduates high school, I'm in my fucking sixties.” His mouth twisted. “That's assuming everything goes perfectly.” You slid off the stool and got closer to him.
“You're talking like you're eighty.”
“Feels like it some mornings.” That made you smile a little. He was still joking which meant he wasn’t mad at you. “I've already fucked up being a father twice, not sure I can do it once again.” Your smile disappeared.
“You haven’t fucked up at being a father.” His eyes lifted.
“Baby.”
“Okay. You've made mistakes, but Ben still called you when he needed his dad, and Charlotte is furious because she cares about you.”
“She tried to fucking murder you this morning.”
“Not helping my argument.” The corner of his mouth finally moved and you stepped between his knees where he leaned against the counter.
“I wasn't asking you for a baby right now, I just thought maybe you did.” Gator's hands settled around your waist.
“And I don't know.” You nodded.
“That answer's okay.” You rested your head on his chest for a few seconds, listening to his heartbeat. “You know, Mick Jagger had a baby at seventy-three years old.” He chuckled again and pushed you back toward your stool.
“Get the fuck out of here.” He said, jokingly. You kissed him once and went back to sit on your stool at the counter. He turned his back to you again, his attention going back to whatever was in the pan. Another question had been bothering you, so you waited a few seconds and finally asked.
“Do you regret us ?” He turned around again and his eyebrows pulled together immediately.
“What ?”
“Not the baby thing, just … us.” You gestured vaguely between the both of you and Gator straightened.
“Where the fuck did that come from ?”
“Everything's gone to shit since we…”
“No.” He came up to you this time, hands going back to your waist. “Don't ever confuse me being scared shitless with me regretting you.” You stared at him, eyes slightly glassy. “Mia's getting a lawyer, Charlotte wants to destroy my campaign and Ben hates my fucking guts but I’m still choosing you baby.” Gator pulled you closer and your chest tightened.
“That's probably a terrible thing to say.”
“It is a terrible thing to say, but I don’t care.” He kissed you again, slower this time. “I love you baby.”
“I love you too.” His forehead rested against yours.
“We'll talk about the other shit when my entire fucking life isn't actively burning down, okay ?” You smiled.
“Deal.” A smell suddenly reached you and you frowned. “Is something burning ?” Gator froze.
“Fuck.” You burst out laughing as he practically threw you aside to get back to the stove. After dinner, you ended up both going to bed, cuddling and trying not to think about how the shitshow was about to start.
The next morning, Gator's phone started ringing before either of you had finished breakfast. He glanced at the screen and his expression immediately soured. “Lawyer.”
Gator answered and walked toward the other side of the kitchen. You tried not to listen, but you just couldn’t help it. “What do you mean she retained counsel ?” You stopped drinking your coffee as Gator's back straightened. “When ? And what exactly did they say ?”
His jaw tightened and you watched the muscles in his back tense beneath his shirt. “No. That wasn't what we agreed… I fucking know that.” He rubbed his forehead. “What about the ranch ?” Your stomach dropped and Gator turned away from you. “No, it was my father's property… Then fucking figure it out.”
He hung up and you waited. Gator stood with both hands braced against the counter, laughing bitterly. “Mia got a fucking lawyer. Apparently she didn't waste any fucking time.”
“What does that mean ?”
“It means everything we agreed on is gone.” He turned. “She officially withdrew her agreement to an uncontested divorce.” Gator grabbed his coffee and took a drink that looked way more aggressive than coffee drinking needed to be. “Her lawyer wants financial disclosures, property records, ranch documents, everything.”
“Can she take the ranch ?”
“No.” His answer was immediate, then he paused. “Probably.”
“Gator.”
“It's complicated. Apparently everything in my fucking life is complicated.” He grabbed his keys. “And Charlotte still won't answer my texts.” That had been the other problem. Since yesterday, there wasn’t anything. No furious message, no call, no text, Charlotte had gone completely silent. Gator had also called twice last night but nothing. “I don't like her being quiet.” He shoved his phone into his pocket. “I liked it better when she was fucking screaming.”
The station was chaos, three days until the election now. Everyone seemed to be moving twice as fast as usual, and Gator had barely been inside his office for twenty consecutive minutes before somebody needed him again. People in suits came in and out.
Sometime in the afternoon, the front doors opened and Ben walked in. Your stomach did that annoying little twist it always seemed to do now. He looked better than he had the last few times you'd seen him, still tired but dressed properly. He walked toward your desk.
“Hey.” You gave him a cautious smile. “What are you doing here ?”
“Need dad.”
“He's in his office.” Ben started walking past, then stopped when you called his name. He looked back at you. “You … good ?” Okay, that was a stupid thing to ask.
“Doing great.” You knew immediately that wasn't true, but you also knew better than to push.
“Okay.” Ben nodded and started walking again toward Gator's office. He knocked once before opening the door. His dad looked up from behind his desk, the irritation on his face disappeared when he saw his son.
“Everything okay ?” Ben shut the door behind himself and you couldn’t hear another word they were saying. After about ten minutes, he got out again, walked straight past you without a single glance and went back to the parking lot.
The rest of the day passed quietly enough, or at least as quietly as anything could three days before an election, and by the time your shift ended, nothing else had gone catastrophically wrong, so you took that as a win.
You drove straight back to the ranch, parked inside the barn like usual and let yourself into the house. You changed into something more comfortable, put some music on and started dinner. You had expected him home maybe an hour later, but by the time headlights finally swept across the windows, you had reheated dinner twice already. The front door opened.
“Baby ?”
“Kitchen.” Gator appeared in the doorway looking absolutely fucking dead. You laughed.
“Jesus ! What happened to you ?”
“I've shaken approximately eight thousand hands today.” He dropped his keys onto the counter. “I've listened to people tell me about their property taxes, their fucking neighbors, potholes, somebody's goddamn dog barking.” He dragged both hands down his face. “I hate being a politician.”
“You're running for sheriff though.”
“Apparently that means pretending I give a shit about everybody's fucking potholes.” You laughed and walked over to kiss him. Gator immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and kept you there for several seconds longer than necessary. “Fucking awful day.”
Gator looked like he was about to say something else but you stopped him.
“Nope. No election, no divorce and no Charlotte.” He raised an eyebrow.
“What the fuck are we supposed to talk about ?”
“Literally anything else.” That finally put a smile on his tired face.
“Deal baby.”
You served dinner and talked about work without mentioning the campaign, about something stupid you'd seen online and about what else the ranch desperately needed despite Gator insisting you had already bought enough shit. You argued about a movie and Gator told you a story from years ago that had absolutely nothing to do with Mia, Ben, Charlotte or his election. For an hour, the outside world didn't exist.
After dinner, you both settled into the living room. Gator was halfway through complaining about one of the new cushions you had bought when you reached for your purse beside the couch like you did every night.
Gator barely paid attention, still talking with his eyes glued on the TV playing something stupid. You pulled out your birth control as usual and popped the pill from the blister pack before reaching for your water.
Then you felt it, Gator had stopped talking. You glanced over and he was looking at your hand. His eyes lifted to yours then immediately returned to the television. It was so quick you almost could've convinced yourself you had imagined it.
You swallowed the pill and Gator said nothing, neither did you. You put the packet back into your purse and settled against him again. His arm automatically came around your shoulders as the movie continued.
Two days, that was all that remained until the election. The station was closed to the public for the morning, and by nine, it had been invaded by men in suits. Someone had dragged extra chairs into the main area, coffee was everywhere, paperwork covered every available surface, and practically everyone working at the station had been pulled into what was apparently a very important final campaign meeting, including you.
Why ? You had absolutely no fucking idea. You sat toward the back with a notebook on your lap, pretending to pay attention, but you stopped listening somewhere around the forty-minute mark. Gator, unfortunately, didn't have that luxury. He sat near the front looking increasingly dead inside as people talked at him. Occasionally, his eyes found yours, you would give him the smallest smile, he would roll his eyes then someone would start talking to him again. It went on forever.
Eventually, though, papers started getting gathered and chairs moved back to their original place. Thank fucking God. You were already thinking about lunch when one of the campaign directors spoke again. “One last thing. We need updated family photographs for the website.” Your attention snapped back, and so did Gator’s. “We've got plenty of you alone sheriff.” The man continued, flipping through something in his folder. “But this close to election day, family photographs perform well. Something informal, you, your wife, the kids.”
Oh shit. Gator recovered remarkably quickly.
“Can’t.” The campaign director looked up.
“Why ?”
“Something's going around the family.” He continued without missing a beat. “Virus. Everybody's fucking sick right now.” One of the men frowned.
“All of them ?”
“Yeah.” You stared down at your notebook before your face betrayed you. Jesus Christ he was a good liar too.
“Well, that's unfortunate.” Gator leaned back, playing the perfect concerned dad and husband.
“Real unfortunate.” For approximately three beautiful seconds, you thought he had gotten away with it, then another campaign guy shrugged.
“We can come to the ranch.” Gator froze again. “This evening.” The man smiled like he had just solved everything. “That way nobody sick has to go anywhere. We'll keep it quick, photographer, a couple of us, fifteen minutes top.” Gator stared at him and you watched actual panic appear in his eyes.
“Tonight ?”
“Perfect timing, actually. We can have everything uploaded tomorrow morning.” He glanced around the room. Then his eyes found yours, as if you could do anything about it. What the fuck were you supposed to do ? You widened your eyes at him and he looked back at the campaign directors.
“Yeah, sure. Great.” Gator nodded stiffly.
“Excellent. Seven works for you ?”
“Yep.” You stared at him, the men immediately started discussing logistics like they hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb into the middle of Gator's life.
Seven tonight at the ranch ? Mia didn't live there anymore, Charlotte had disappeared off the fucking face of the earth and Ben barely tolerated his father. But apparently, in approximately eight hours, all three of them needed to stand beside Gator and pretend to be one big happy Tillman family.
You looked at Gator again. He was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched and dead behind the eyes. This was really fucking bad.
The second everyone disappeared for lunch, Gator grabbed your arm. “Office.” That alone told you how bad it was. You followed him inside and he shut the door behind you. “This is a fucking catastrophe. I need you to help me.” You stared at him.
“How ?”
“Ben, it’s the only way.” Your expression immediately changed.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Just listen.”
“You want me to convince the guy whose heart we fucking broke to come play happy family for your campaign ?” Gator winced.
“I don't have a fucking choice.”
“Yes, you do. You call your family and deal with it.”
“Charlotte won't answer me. Mia probably wants me dead.” You shook your head.
“This is so inappropriate.”
“I know.” He started pacing. “I'll call Mia. I'll find Charlotte somehow, I'll do whatever the fuck I have to do. But Ben listens to you.” Your stomach twisted.
“That's exactly why I shouldn't use that.” Gator stopped and for a second, he didn't say anything. Then he sat heavily behind his desk and dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck.” His fingers disappeared into his hair and you noticed how his hands were trembling. Your irritation softened slightly.
“Gator baby.”
“I can't have this blow up two fucking days before the election.” He sounded genuinely terrified and you sighed. Fuck.
“Okay.” His head lifted. “I'll talk to him. But I'm not promising anything.” He nodded immediately. “And you're still asking him yourself. Plus Mia and Charlotte are entirely your problem.”
“Fair.” You pointed at him.
“And if Ben tells me to go fuck myself, that's the end of it.”
“Okay.” Relief crossed his face instantly and he stood.
“Thank you. Take the afternoon and go find him.”
“You're giving me the afternoon off to emotionally blackmail your son ?”
“Don't fucking call it that.” You gave him a look and Gator groaned before rubbing his face again. “Just…please.”
“I'll talk to him.”
“That’s all I'm asking.” He kissed your lips and you headed out, already regretting this decision.
You drove all the way to Ben’s apartment, a bad feeling settling in your gut. It took you almost five whole minutes before gathering enough strength to knock on his door. Ben opened the door expecting literally anyone but you, the surprise on his face was immediate. “What are you doing here ?”
“I need to ask you something.” His expression changed slightly and his brows furrowed. But still, he steeped aside to let you in.
“Come in.” You walked into the apartment, but didn't bother sitting down.
“I wanna say this before anything else. I'm here because Gator needs something from you and I agreed to help him.” Ben actually laughed.
“Jesus Christ, okay.”
“And if you say no, I'm leaving. I'm not gonna argue with you or try to guilt you into anything.” He shut the door behind you.
“This should be good.” He had a stupid smirk on his face, and you weren’t sure why. You quickly explained what had happened at the station with the campaign directors apparently needing a photo of the whole Tillman family. You explained how Gator lied about everyone being sick but it backfired on his because now they were coming to the ranch at seven tonight.
The idea of the entire Tillman family smiling happily at the ranch as if their lives hadn't completely imploded over the past week made Ben stare at you in disbelief, brows high on his forehead now.
“So my father couldn't even come ask me himself, huh ?” You winced.
“He said he was dealing with Mia and Charlotte.”
“And you're dealing with me.” He asked, and you hesitated. It seemed cruel but you said you weren’t about to lie to him.
“Basically yes.” Ben stared at you, then laughed, genuinely fucking astonished.
“Holy shit.”
“I told him it was inappropriate.”
“But you still came to me.”
“Because he's freaking out.” You replied, voice rising because apparently this was stressing you out too now.
“Of course he is.” You sighed.
“Look, Ben. That's it, that’s the whole thing. If you don't wanna do it, I understand.” You reached for your purse. “I'll tell him no and that he needs to find another way to…”
“Wait.” He cut you off, and you stopped. He had gone strangely thoughtful.
“What ?” He leaned against the wall, brows furrowed now.
“Dad's calling mom ? And Charlotte to ask them to do this shit ?”
“Yeah.”
“They're gonna tell him to go fuck himself.”
“Probably, but he’s…”
“Definitely. They definitely will.” Ben stared at the floor for a few seconds, then something shifted in his expression as his eyes snapped back to yours. He hummed slightly before speaking again. “If dad asks them, they're not coming. That’s for fucking sure.”
“Okay.”
“But if I ask them…” He let the sentence hang between you and you understood.
“They might come if you’re the one to ask them ?”
“They will come.” He emphasized the word and your brown lifted, unsure why he was being so helpful right now.
“You'd do that for him ?” Ben shrugged.
“I could if I wanted to.”
“That would be…” You searched for the right word, still pretty confused. “Really fucking nice of you.”
“Didn't say I'd do it for free though.” Your expression immediately changed. He wanted to take money from his fucking dad in exchange ? What the hell ?
“How much money do you want ? I’ll need to call Gator and let him know that you’re…”
“I don’t want money.” He cut you off, and this confused you even more. He looked at you for a moment, long enough that the atmosphere in the apartment changed and you suddenly felt really uneasy.
“I want one last night with you.” You stared at him completely stunned.
“No.” The answer came so quickly that Ben almost smiled.
“Didn't even let me finish.”
“I don't need you to, absolutely not. You can’t ask me that !”
“Oh but you can ask me to play perfect family with my dad who fucked my girlfriend for his own sake ?” You grabbed your purse properly this time.
“Forget it, I’m leaving.” You headed toward the door. “I'm saying no.”
“Then say no.” You stopped, but Ben hadn't moved. He wasn't chasing you and wasn't trying to block the door, just stood there watching you. “I'm not forcing you to do anything.”
“Then what exactly are you doing ?”
“Making you an offer.”
“That's a fucked-up offer.”
“I know exactly how fucked up it is.” He replied, smirking again. “One last night with you.”
“Ben…”
“I'm not asking you to pretend we're together again.” His voice had lost some of its edge. “I'm not asking you to tell me you love me and I'm not asking you to promise me shit.”
“Then what are you asking ?”
“For one night where you stay, with me. No dad calling and you running off. Just one fucking night together, and I’ll call my mom and sister to help your boyfriend play perfect family.” He swallowed and straighten. “Then I'm done.” Your chest tightened.
“I don’t … understand.” He chuckled.
“Not that hard to understand bunny. You accept and I'll call mom.” He started counting on his fingers. “I'll call Charlotte. I'll convince them both to show up tonight. I'll put on whatever fucking shirt dad wants me to wear. I'll stand beside him and I'll smile for the camera.” He looked directly at you. “And afterward, you stay here with me. I get one entire night where I finally get to fuck your brain’s out like I’ve been wanting to do for weeks, and everyone’s happy.” You shook your head.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“And if I don't ?”
“Then you don’t.” He shrugged. “You walk out that door like you said you would.”
“And the picture ?” You asked, already imagining Gator’s face when you’ll tell him that his son is blackmailing you.
“Dad can figure his own shit out then, not my problem.” You stared at him.
“You're … blackmailing me.”
“Yeah.” At least he didn't insult you by pretending otherwise.
“That's fucking low Ben.” Something flickered across his face, a mix of anger and resentment.
“I know.” His voice sharpened. “I'm still giving you a choice. Mom and Charlotte don't wanna do the picture anyway, that’s for sure. You came here because you need something from me.” He pushed away from the wall. “And I need something from you.”
“That isn't the same.”
“Never said it was.” He shrugged and you stared at each other. Ben looked remarkably calm, but his eyes weren’t. There was still all that hurt sitting underneath everything, all that desperation he had been trying so fucking hard to hide. Finally, he spoke again. “One night. After that, I'll stop asking.” Your stomach twisted.
He came closer to you, and you could feel the heat of his body, making you shake a little. He leaned in so his mouth was next to your ear. “Wouldn’t be the first time you fucked both me and my dad the same day now, would it ?” You flinched and he looked at you with that smug look on his face. That’s when you realized that even if it was Ben, he was still a Tillman.
“What the fuck Ben ?” Then, he stepped backward, deliberately putting more distance between you.
“I'm not stopping you from leaving.” His eyes moved toward the door. “This is my offer. Take it or leave it, it's up to you, bunny.”
general taglist : @proooof @maaaachiii @us3r4682 @delphinemix @cecesblogg
TW : age gap, threatening, arguing, smut for the sluts <3, mentions of divorce, Ben :(
Words : 5.8k
A/N : couldn't sleep last night so wrote like a maniac, hope you like it
For several seconds, Charlotte didn't move, and neither did you. Her eyes stayed locked on your face as if staring long enough might somehow make you turn into somebody else.
Then something shifted, she was turning gears in her head and you watched it happen piece by piece. Charlotte's face went completely blank. “It's you.” She took another step into the bedroom and Gator shifted beside you.
“Charlotte, go downstairs.” Her head snapped toward him. “We're not doing this while we're fucking naked. Go downstairs, give us five minutes and…”
“No !” Her voice exploded through the house and she pointed directly at you. “You're not getting five fucking minutes !”
“Lower your voice.”
“Fuck you !” Gator's expression hardened.
“Hey, you can’t talk to me like…”
“No, fuck you !” Charlotte marched farther into the bedroom so you instinctively pulled the comforter tighter around yourself. She didn't seem to give a single fuck about the fact that she just walked in on two naked people. Her finger pointed at you again. “You fucking knew.” Gator sat up straighter.
“Let her get fucking dressed.”
“I don't care ! You’re such a fake ass bitch, sitting there listening to me telling you about my dad’s mistress when it was fucking you !” You swallowed.
“I didn't know what to say.”
“You didn't know what to say ?” Her voice climbed. “How about, ‘Hey Lottie, funny fucking story, it's actually me !” Gator threw the covers back enough to grab his boxers from the floor.
“Enough.” He pulled his boxers on beneath the blanket before standing. “You're pissed. I get it.”
“No, I don't think you fucking do !”
“Then yell at me downstairs.”
“Why? So she can sneak out and not deal with the consequences ?” Your stomach dropped.
“I'm not going to…” Charlotte turned on you so quickly you stopped talking.
“Shut the fuck up you stupid bitch.” Gator immediately stepped between you.
“Don't fucking talk to her like that.” She stared at him, pure disbelief written all over her face.
“You're defending her ? Like actually ?”
“I'm telling you not to talk to her like she's fucking dirt.”
“Why ? Because she's your girlfriend now ?” Gator's jaw tightened.
“That's none of…”
“IS SHE ?”
“Yes !” He was shouting too now. Something almost wounded flashed across her face before rage swallowed it again.
“You've gotta be fucking kidding me. This isn't even just some fucking affair. Mom knows ?” Gator hesitated.
“But she doesn't know it's her. You are fucking insane.” She dragged both hands through her hair then suddenly stopped. “Ben. Fucking hell, Ben knew. That's why he wouldn't tell me.”
“Leave Ben out of this.” Gator's voice had changed, it was sharper now.
“Out of this ? Well I think he’s pretty involved don’t you think ? His dad is fucking his girlfriend for god’s sake !” She looked at you with pure rage in her eyes. “He really fucking liked you, you have no damn idea. He fucking loved you.”
“I know.” That was apparently the wrong answer, her face twisted and she started walking toward you, but Gator stepped forward.
“You knew my brother was in love with you while you were fucking his father ? What kind of fucking whore does that ?”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Gator's voice cracked through the room and Charlotte spun toward him.
“Why should I watch my fucking mouth ?” She pointed toward you without looking away from him. “You fucked the woman your own son was in love with !” Gator flinched and silence crashed down over the room for almost thirty seconds. “You're fucking sick, you’re actually fucking sick.” Her breathing was still too fast, anger practically radiating off her. “Did you ever actually give a fuck about Ben ?” The question caught you off guard.
“Yes of course !”
“If you cared about him so fucking much, how the fuck did you do this to him ?” Your throat tightened.
“Was Ben not exciting enough ? Not fucked up enough ? Did you need somebody with more fucking issues ?”
“No ! I just love your dad.” Absolute silence as Charlotte's face emptied. Gator looked at you too, even he hadn't expected you to say it like that. Something in her snapped.
“You fucking…” She lunged. It happened so quickly you barely registered her moving, one second she was standing several feet away and the next she was coming straight at you. She threw herself on the bed and grabbed a chunk of your hair, yanking it down. You started screaming as Gator reached for her, trying to pull her away.
He hauled her backward as Charlotte twisted violently in his arms. He grabbed her hand that was still stuck to your hair and pressed in the middle, right into her bones, loosening her grip. He grabbed her arm before she could get you again and pulled her backward.
Charlotte fought him with everything she had, kicking backward, twisting, trying to tear herself free. She tried to surge toward you again but Gator caught her tighter and dragged her several steps backward. “Enough !”
While Gator struggled to keep Charlotte away from you, you moved fast. You grabbed the first clothes you could find from the floor, snatched your phone from the nightstand and practically ran for the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and locked it. Your hands were shaking so badly you nearly dropped your phone.
Outside, everything was chaos, Charlotte screaming while Gator was trying to calm her down, something hitting the wall. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
You had no idea what to do. Then you thought of the only person who might actually be able to get through to her, Ben.
You called immediately but it ended up going to voicemail. “Come on, Ben, fuck.” You called again right away and this time, he answered almost instantly.
“What ?”
“Ben.” Something in your voice must have registered immediately.
“What’s going on ?”
“I need you to come to the ranch. Please, just…come here. Now.”
“Why ?”
“Charlotte knows. She completely lost it, Ben. Gator's trying to deal with her but she's fucking…” A scream exploded from the other side of the bathroom door.
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME !”
“What the fuck is happening ?” Ben asked, and you heard movement on his side, indicating he was already moving.
“She tried to come at me and Gator grabbed her and I just…I don't know what to fucking do.”
“Are you okay ?”
“I'm locked in the bathroom.” Another crash sounded outside, but Ben didn't ask anything else.
“Stay there, I’m coming.” Then you heard movement on his end again keys. “I'm leaving now.”
“Thank you.”
“Stay in the bathroom. I'll be there.” The call ended and you lowered the phone. Outside, Charlotte started screaming again.
For the next few minutes, all you could do was sit on the bathroom floor and listen. Gator shouting, Charlotte screaming back, something crashing. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, wearing nothing but the oversized T-shirt you'd managed to grab and your underwear.
Then, the front door slammed open and a few seconds of confused silence followed before Ben's voice. “What the fuck is going on ?” You closed your eyes in relief. Outside the bathroom, Charlotte went silent too, apparently, she hadn't expected him.
“Ben ?”
“What the hell are you doing ? Calm down.”
“Don't tell me to calm down ! You knew it was her !”
“I said calm the fuck down.”
“And you didn't tell me ?!” Her voice cracked through the house. “You let me look like a fucking idiot this whole time !”
“I wasn't gonna tell you something that wasn't mine to tell.”
“She's fucking dad !”
“I know.” His voice was almost sad, which resulted in a beat of silence. Then, Charlotte started again, you couldn't even make out everything she was saying anymore. Something about Mia, something about Gator and you heard Ben trying to interrupt while Gator was doing the same.
Nobody was listening to anybody, then another crash before Ben's voice cut through everything. “Dad ! Get her the fuck out of here.”
“Ben…”
“No. This is fucking insane.” His voice sounded exhausted now. “Take her downstairs. Put her outside, I don't fucking care. Just get her away from here before she breaks the whole fucking house.” Gator apparently decided Ben was right as you heard their voices drifting toward the stairs.
A knock against the bathroom door made you jump hard. “Hey.” It was Ben, your entire body relaxed. You pushed yourself up enough to reach the lock, your hands were still shaking. You opened the door and Ben stood there. His expression changed the second he saw you. You were sitting on the floor, back against the bathtub, wearing an oversized shirt and underwear, tears streaking down your face. “Jesus.” He immediately crouched. “Are you okay ?”
“I don't know.” Ben lowered himself onto his knees in front of you. “I'm so sorry for this.” Your voice broke. “All of this. I didn't want this to happen, I didn't want her to find out like this and I didn't want you dragged back into it either.”
“Hey.” Ben reached for you and that was all it took. You leaned forward and he pulled you into his arms. “It's okay.” You buried your face against his shoulder.
“I'm sorry.”
“I know.” His hand moved slowly over your back. “It's okay.” For a few seconds, you just stayed there, then another furious yell came from downstairs as Ben sighed against your hair. “She's fucking insane. You good if I go deal with her ?” You nodded.
“Yeah.” He stood, then hesitated.
“Stay up here for a minute and … get dressed.” You nodded again as he moved toward the door.
“Ben ?” He stopped. “Thank you for coming.” Something passed across his face, pain, maybe. But he only nodded.
“Yeah. I'll go talk to her.” Ben gave you one last look before leaving. A few seconds later, you heard his footsteps descending the stairs while you remained on the bathroom floor, listening as he went to deal with his sister.
Ben found them outside. Gator had managed to get Charlotte down the stairs and through the front door, but that was apparently as far as he had gotten. She was standing several feet away from him in the yard, still screaming. “You don't get to fucking decide when this conversation is over !”
“I'm not deciding shit. I'm trying to get you to calm the fuck down.”
“STOP TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN !” Ben stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
“Charlotte.” She spun around, her face was red and her eyes wet, hair completely disheveled from fighting against Gator upstairs. The second she saw Ben, her anger redirected.
“You fucking knew and you didn't tell me.”
“Because it wasn't my fucking secret to tell Lottie !” Charlotte stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
“Not your secret ? She was fucking dad while she was with you !” Ben's jaw tightened.
“I know that too.”
“Stop saying you know !”
“What do you want me to say ?” Ben asked, hurt and annoyed.
“I want you to be fucking angry !” That stopped him. “Why aren't you angry ?” Ben laughed once.
“You think I'm not ? I am fucking angry.”
“You just ran upstairs to fucking comfort her !” Lottie snapped and Ben's expression hardened.
“She was crying on a bathroom floor while you were trying to rip her fucking head off, I’m not gonna leave her like that.” Charlotte's mouth fell open.
“After everything she did to you ?” Ben looked away. “Why ? She picked dad over you.” His jaw clenched again. “She lied to you, she slept with him while you were falling in love with her.”
“Charlotte.”
“And you're still running when she calls ? Why ?” Ben finally snapped.
“BECAUSE I STILL FUCKING LOVE HER !” Silence, even Gator froze while Charlotte stared at her brother. Ben's chest rose and fell heavily, he looked like he wished he could drag the words back into his mouth but it was too late.
“This is fucking insane.” She wiped angrily under her eyes. “This entire fucking family is insane, and mom doesn't even know.” Gator tensed.
“She doesn't know it's her, she deserves to know, I’ll tell her.” Gator's expression immediately changed.
“No.” Charlotte reached for her phone but Ben moved before Gator could.
“Don’t. Mom already knows dad cheated, but she deserves to hear it from him.” He nodded toward Gator. Charlotte said nothing and Gator watched his son carefully.
“I'll tell your mother.” He said.
“When ?” Gator hesitated and Charlotte laughed bitterly.
“After the election.”
“Oh, fuck you, apparently everybody's feelings have to wait until dad gets his fucking badge again.”
“Your mother and I agreed to…”
“Mom agreed to keep the divorce quiet.” Charlotte cut him off. “Did she agree to keep her quiet ?” Gator said nothing, he felt cornered and he hated it. Ben kept trying to calm Lottie down, and after a few minutes, it worked. She had stopped yelling and was back to speaking at a reasonable noise volume. She sat down on the grass and said she needed a few minutes, so Ben walked the few feet separating him from his dad.
Gator’s eyes shifted toward the house, toward where you were. “Did she call you ?” Ben frowned.
“What ?”
“How'd you know to come here ?” Ben stared at his father and both of their expressions harden. “She called you.”
“Yeah.” Gator gave a tiny nod. Something ugly and irrational flashed across his face and apparently, his son caught it.
“Don't you fucking dare.” Gator's eyebrows pulled together.
“What the fuck are you talking about ?”
“She called me because your daughter was trying to fucking attack her and she didn't know what else to do, so don't stand there getting weird because she called me.”
“I'm not getting fucking weird.” A muscle jumped in Gator's jaw but Ben didn't back down.
“She needed help, and I came. You don't get to be fucking jealous of me when you’re the one she chose.” That landed hard.
“I'm not jealous.”
“Good.” Ben stepped back. “Because you fucking won.”
“This is fucking pathetic.” Lottie said, shaking her head. “You know what ? Maybe mom isn't even the person I should call.” Gator immediately looked at her.
“What does that mean ?”
“You've got four days, four fucking days until the election.” Gator took one slow step toward her.
“Don't.”
“Oh, that’s what scares you.”
“Don't do something fucking stupid because you're angry.” He said.
“Stupid ?” She held up her phone. “You mean like telling people the truth ? Telling everyone the town’s sheriff is divorcing his wife because he found out that fucking his son’s girlfriend was great ? I’m sure people would have a lot to say about it. Everybody thinks you're this perfect family man, they’re voting for you.” Her thumb hovered over the screen. “They should probably know what they're actually voting for.”
Gator went completely still but Ben didn’t. “No. You call the campaign office right now, what do you think happens ? They don't just write some fucking story saying dad cheated. They're gonna ask how long it was happening, why mom left. They're gonna start digging into everything.”
“So ?”
“So mom becomes fucking campaign gossip. Everybody in Stark County gets to talk about how her husband fucked somebody else.” Gator flinched.
“Ben.” Charlotte started, but he kept going.
“You wanted us to talk about it? We're talking about it. They'll talk about mom, they’ll talk about me. You think I want everybody knowing this shit ? You think I wanna walk into a fucking grocery store and wonder if everybody knows my dad was sleeping with the woman I was in love with ? Stop being fucking stupid Charlotte.”
Ben stepped closer. “You wanna punish him ? Fine, hate him if you want to, don’t care. But mom didn't do anything. You don't get to turn her divorce into entertainment for the whole fucking county because you're pissed.” For several seconds, neither spoke, then she looked toward Gator.
“So what ? We just keep fucking lying ?”
“No.” Ben answered before Gator could. “Dad tells mom, today.” Gator shook his head.
“We already agreed we'd handle this after…”
“No.” Ben cut him off. “You agreed the divorce stays quiet until after the election, this is different.” Lottie suddenly looked interested. “So he tells her today, all of it.”
“And if he doesn’t ?” Ben looked at Gator, then back at his sister.
“Then I won't stop you.” Gator's head snapped toward him.
“What the fuck ?”
“You created this, you wanna keep the election safe ? Handle your shit.” Charlotte looked almost impressed with her brother. Finally, Gator gave one sharp nod.
“Fine.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, then she looked toward the house.
“You wanted her so fucking bad ? Now you get to own it.” She turned then stopped beside Ben. “And you, you’re so fucking pathetic for still protecting her.” A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he only shrugged.
“Probably.” Gator and Ben stood silently in the yard until Charlotte walked toward her car and disappeared down the road. Neither spoke and after a few seconds, Gator eventually exhaled.
“Fuck.” Ben looked toward the house. There were pieces of something shattered just inside the doorway as he walked inside. He crouched and started picking up the larger pieces of whatever his sister smashed on the floor. Gator stared at him.
“You don't have to do that.”
“I know.” He grabbed a trash bag anyway. For several minutes, neither spoke, they simply cleaned.
“Thank you, son.” Ben didn't look up.
“Wasn't for you. Also because the whole fucking county knowing this shit isn't gonna make anything better, it’s just gonna humiliate everybody.” Gator nodded.
“Yeah.” Ben threw a big piece away before finally meeting his dad’s eyes.
“Go check on her.”
“You sure ?”
“Yeah.” Ben shoved his hands into his pockets. “I'll wait.” Gator nodded, then headed upstairs.
You were dressed by the time he found you, sitting on the edge of the bed. He just sat next to you and wrapped his arms around you. You both started to cry in each other’s arms, realizing how much the next few hours were about to fucking suck.
Ben was waiting outside by his car when you came downstairs while Gator stayed inside. He looked up when the door opened, eyes moving over to you. “You okay ?”
“Yeah. Are you ?” He nodded and you stopped a few feet away. “Thank you.” Ben shrugged.
“You called me.”
“Yeah, I didn't know who else would be able to calm her down. I'm sorry.” Ben looked at you.
“For calling ?”
“No.” Your throat tightened. “For Saturday. I didn't see your messages until really late, I answered as soon as I saw them.”
“I know.”
“You'd already gone to sleep, I guess.” Ben looked away, he didn't confirm it which made you frown slightly. “Ben.”
“It's fine. You don't owe me twenty-four-seven availability.” His eyes were glassy now.
“You are allowed to be angry with me.”
“I am angry with you.” He laughed weakly. “That's what nobody seems to fucking understand. I am so fucking angry at you, I just…” He looked away again. “I still can't seem to make myself stop caring.” He opened his car door and gave you a tired little smile. “Go deal with your own shit, I’ll deal with mine.” He started climbing into the car and stopped, as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t.
You stepped back as the engine started, and a few seconds later, he drove away. You watched until his car disappeared, then you turned toward the ranch. Gator was standing in the doorway already dressed, keys in his hand. This was the moment he was about to tell his wife everything.
Gator sat in the cruiser outside Mia's apartment for nearly five minutes before getting out. He had faced armed men with less hesitation.
He finally knocked and Mia opened a few seconds later. Gator glanced toward the inside of the apartment. “We need to talk.” She stepped aside and he walked in and heard the door close behind him. “Charlotte found out” Mia's expression tightened. “She came to the ranch this morning and now she knows who it is.” Gator rubbed his jaw.
“The ranch ? Already ? Okay.” She sounded hurt but he decided to ignore that. “And now you finally decided I should too ?” He nodded and Mia crossed her arms. “Go ahead.” Gator had rehearsed this in the cruiser, several versions even, but none of them survived now that she was standing in front of him.
He couldn’t find the words to say, so he just said your name out loud. She frowned, then her eyebrows pulled together. “The girl Ben was seeing ?” Gator nodded, his stomach sinking.
“It's complicated.”
“Oh my God.” Mia turned away, one hand covering her mouth. She paced several steps into the living room before turning back.
“How old is she ? Like … less than 25 right ?” Gator’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond, shaking his head. “You've got to be fucking kidding me.”
“She is an adult Mia.”
“Oh, that's your defense ? Because that's exactly what every creepy old man says.”
“Don't do that.”
“Don't do what ?” Her voice rose for the first time. “Point out that my husband apparently likes women young enough to date his fucking son ?”
“I'm not your husband anymore.”
“You legally are.” Gator shut his mouth and Mia laughed bitterly. “Jesus Christ.” She looked him over as if something about him had fundamentally changed. “I never thought this was you.”
“You can hate me for cheating. But this ?” She shook her head. “I didn't expect you to be a predator.” Gator's entire expression changed.
“I'm not a fucking predator.”
“You're sleeping with a girl young enough for Ben.”
“That doesn't make me a predator.”
“You're her boss. You're her fucking sheriff.”
“She's not a child Mia. You just called me a fucking predator.”
“Because you're older than her, you're married, you're her boss, and apparently somewhere in all of that you decided fucking her was a great idea.”
“It wasn't like that.”
“And Ben ! Was she with Ben first ?” Gator rubbed his hand over his mouth.
“Mia, it's complicated.”
“Stop saying that ! Was my son in love with your girlfriend ?” Mia stared at him in horror when he didn’t respond. “Oh my God.”
“He knows already, he found out, he saw us.” Mia closed her eyes.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“He wasn't supposed to be there.”
“Do you hear yourself ? He wasn't supposed to be there ?” She laughed, but tears were appearing now. “That's the fucking problem ?”
“No.” She started crying and turned her back to him. They both stayed like this for a few minutes, before she turned around to face him again. “What did the lawyer tell you ?” Gator frowned, confused.
“What ?”
“The lawyer.” She wiped her face. “You said yesterday he had contacted you. What did he tell you ?”
“That the paperwork could move forward once you signed.” Mia nodded.
“I'm not signing it anymore.” Gator completely froze.
“Mia, don't do this, we already agreed.”
“That was before I knew this.”
“You agreed the marriage was over, then what the fuck are you doing ?” His voice rose too.
“Protecting myself.”
“From what ?”
“From you.” Gator stared at her. Mia's voice shook, but she didn't back down. “You're running for sheriff while sleeping with one of your employees and while being still legally married to me. And apparently your own son was involved with her too.”
“Mia.”
“You want me to quietly sign whatever your lawyer puts in front of me so you can walk away clean ?”
“That isn't what I'm asking.” He replied. “Don't turn the divorce into a fucking weapon. What do you want ?”
“I don't know yet.” That answer frightened him more than anything else she had said. She walked toward her front door and pulled it open, but Gator didn’t move.
“Mia, the election is in four days, you know what happens if this gets ugly right now. You wouldn’t fuck with the election just to hurt me, right ?” Her eyes filled again.
“You came into my apartment and told me you've been fucking a woman young enough to be with our son, that Ben loved her, and that he had to find the two of you together.” Her fingers tightened around the door. “And you're standing there worried about your fucking election ?” Gator had nothing to say so Mia shook her head. “No divorce, not now.”
“We can't stay fucking married because you're angry.”
“Watch me.” She pointed through the open door. “Get out.”
“You can't just change everything we agreed on.”
“I just did. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” He stared at her for several seconds, then slowly walked toward the door. As he passed her, Mia spoke again. “And tell your lawyer not to call me, if he wants to talk to me, he can talk to whoever I hire.”
That was when Gator understood that this wasn't Mia lashing out. She was getting her own lawyer, so the easy divorce they had agreed on was gone, potentially the quiet divorce too.
Gator stepped into the hallway and the door slammed behind him. He stood there staring at it, his divorce had just turned hostile.
You were still at the ranch while Gator went to Mia’s, anxiously waiting for him to come back in one piece. When you heard his cruiser coming back, your pulse spiked. The front door slammed and he finally appeared in the doorway. “She’s gonna make the divorce a fucking nightmare now.” You opened your mouth to speak but he was already moving, looming over you now. “Stand up.”
You did because apparently your body obeyed before your brain catches up. He gripped your jaw harshly, thumb pressing into the hinge until your lips parted. He studied your face as if he was deciding something.
“You want this, right ? You want me to destroy you right now.” This wasn’t a question. His pupils were blown, the black almost eating all of the hazel. “I ain’t gonna be nice baby, Ian’t gonna be gentle. I’m going to use you until I forget her fucking name.” He released your jaw and stepped back. “So beg for it.”
Your throat went dry and you dropped to your knees right in front of him. “Please.”
“Please what ?” His hand flew to his belt.
“Please use me, take it out on me, I can take it.” A low growl rambled through his chest.
“I know you can baby.” The belt snaked free, the sound of the leather passing through the hoops making you shiver. “I know you’re not her. You’re not gonna make me negotiate for every inch of my own life. You’re going to lie there and let me fuck this rage right into you, aren’t you ?”
“Yes.” He didn’t bother to undress you and didn’t even bother with the bedroom. One hand fisted the back of your shirt as he hauled you onto the couch, face down, your cheek pressing into the pillow. He yanked down your jeans and underwear to your mid-thigh, just enough past your ass. No foreplay, no fingers, nothing. Just the sound of his zipper going down.
Then, the blunt head of his cock shoved inside you and you made a strangled noise. The sudden stretch burned as your fingers clawed at the cushion. He didn’t pause, just one brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt, his hips flushed against your ass pushing all the air out of your lungs.
“Oh you’re tight baby.” His voice was hoarse. He pulled out slowly so you could really feel him before slamming back in so hard the couch legs screech against the floor. “That’s better, that’s my good fucking girl opening up for me even when she’s not ready.”
He set a pace that was a fucking punishment, pounding into you so hard you started to wonder if he was going to end up inside your gut. His fingers twisted into your hair, yanking your head back so your spine arched. “You know what she said ? She said that she’d make this a fucking nightmare for me.” He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But I’m going to fill this pussy so full she won’t exist anymore. You’ll be the one I come home to, the one I breed.”
You sobbed, half pain and half something you couldn’t name. You started pushing back against him because your body craved the viciousness of it. He felt it, and a dark hum vibrated against your spine.
“Yeah, take it, take all of it.” One of his hand left your hair to come down on your breast though your shirt, hard. The impact sent heat through your chest. You yelped and he slapped the other one, even harder, the cotton of the shit doing nothing to mute the sting. “These are mine. This body is mine. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
Gator’s palm closed around your throat from behind with just enough pressure on the sides to make the world narrow slightly. The edges of your vision bloomed into static. He was still driving into you so deep you felt him in your stomach, and the lack of oxygen made your eyes water.
“You’re crying.” He said, almost wondering. “Tears on the pillow and you’re still arched up for me like a bitch in heat.” He released your throat and you gasped for air. Before you could find words, his hand was in your hair again, craning your neck. You could see his face above you, beautiful, the face of a man who had decided to burn one life down and build another out of whatever ashes remained.
Gator suddenly spat and it landed directly on your cheekbone, trailing down toward your jaw. “Lick it.” You did, tongue out reaching for it. The approval that flickered through his expression was feral. “That’s why you’re not her baby. She’d never, she’d cry and make me feel like a monster.”
He flipped you onto your back without even pulling out, and the shift of his cock inside you was divine. He loomed over you again, still fully dressed while you were a mess, jeans half removed and face slick with spit and tears. He bracketed your head with his forearms and started pounding again, and this time he watched you. How your mouth fell open, how your eyes rolled before his own fell to the place you were connected, staring at his cock disappearing inside you again and again.
“I’m going to cum inside you.” His voice dropped low as his eyes returned to yours. “I’m going to pump you so full you’ll feel it for days. It’s going to take, I’m going to put a baby in you, and then there’s no undoing this. No divorce from you. No paperwork, you’ll be mine forever.” Gator was so deep inside you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think and couldn’t do anything except take the brutal rhythm of his hips and the filthy spilling from his mouth.
Your nails dug into his forearms when you felt the coil in your belly snapping without any warning. You came around his cock, clenching around him with a cry. The sound triggered something in him as his rhythm fractured. With two more brutal thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt and held it there.
The pulse of his release was long and thick, you could feel it, a spreading heat inside you. He stayed there, motionless, his forehead dropping to yours. The weight of him kept his hips sealed to your thighs, keeping everything inside. After a few minutes of ragged breaths, he gently pulled out and kissed your lips.
He tucked a strand of damp hair off your forehead with a tenderness that didn’t match the bruises you’ll have tomorrow. For a while, neither of you spoke. You were curled against Gator on the couch, your head resting against his chest while his fingers moved absentmindedly along your arm. Eventually, something that had been sitting in the back of your mind worked its way out.
“Gator ?”
“Mhm ?”
“Do you want me to stop taking birth control ?” His hand stopped completely and you lifted your head. Gator was staring at you like you just started speaking another language.
“What ?”
“Birth control.”
“I heard you.” His eyebrows pulled together. “Why the fuck would you ask me that ?” Now you were confused.
“Because you said you wanted to put a baby in me.” His expression changed immediately.
“Oh, baby.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “That's not…” He stopped himself, apparently trying to figure out how to phrase it. “You know I say shit when we’re fucking that I don’t necessarily mean.”
“Oh so you don’t mean anything you say ?” Gator sighed.
“I'm saying there's a difference between something sounding real fucking good in the moment and actually deciding we're having a baby. Honey, I'm forty-three.”
“So ?” He almost laughed, but one look at your face stopped him.
“I'm forty-three. I'm in the middle of an election, my divorce just turned into a fucking disaster, Charlotte wants my head on a stick, Ben barely wants to look at me, and nobody can even know we're together yet.”
“I know.”
“Then you understand why getting you pregnant right now would be a fucking terrible idea.”
“I didn't say right now.” You replied, a little hurt.
“You asked if you should stop taking your birth control.”
“Because I thought maybe you actually wanted that.” Gator went quiet, and that silence bothered you more than an immediate answer would’ve. “So you don't ever want it ?” His jaw tightened.
“I didn't say that either. I'm saying I don't know.” You stared at him.
“You seemed pretty sure when you were cumming inside me.”
“Jesus Christ.” Gator shifted beneath you. “Don’t take shit I say when we're caught up in the moment and turn it into a fucking life plan the second we're done.” That stung, and your expression changed.vGator noticed immediately and his voice softened. “That's not what I meant, baby.” He reached for your leg, but you shifted slightly. “Look, I love you, but I'm clearly not making that decision tonight.”
“Okay.”
“And I'm definitely not telling you to stop taking anything.” You looked down and Gator watched you for a moment before leaning forward and kissing your temple. “We'll talk about it later.” He sounded more closed off now.
“Later when ? That’s vague.”
“Because everything in my fucking life is on fire right now.” He pulled away and stood from the couch. “The election is in four days. I'm suddenly fighting with Mia over a divorce that was supposed to be simple and my daughter is threatening to blow up my campaign. I cannot have a serious conversation about having a fucking baby right now.”
You stayed sitting on the couch while Gator pulled his sweaty shirt off his back. “We'll talk about it later.” Then, before you could push the subject any further, he headed toward the kitchen. “I'm making dinner.” You watched him disappear through the doorway, and just like that, the conversation was over. At least as far as Gator was concerned.
general taglist : @proooof @maaaachiii @us3r4682 @delphinemix @cecesblogg
Steve not having motivation to work out so you suggest your baby girl be his motivator, his mentor.
So now every time he needs to do push ups, he settles his daughter on her play mat and kisses her face every time he bends down during the push ups, making the baby giggle and reach for his cheeks with her tiny hands.
TW : age gap, Ben (gonna start using ben as a tw cause he just makes me so sad), mentions of divorce
Words : 3.8k
It was almost one in the morning when you finally remembered your phone existed. You weren't even sure where you had left it. You arrived at the ranch hours ago, dropped your purse and phone somewhere downstairs, and then apparently forgotten about the outside world entirely, which, considering the last few weeks, had felt fucking amazing.
You and Gator had eaten together, talked, laughed and made fun of the depressing empty spaces Mia had left behind. You already mentally redesigned half the living room despite Gator repeatedly informing you that he didn't need decorative shit.
Then you both went upstairs and finally, there was no motel mattress anymore. Just Gator in his own bed in a room that belonged to him alone now. You had amazing sex twice, it wasn’t like the rough sex you’ve been having ever since you started this whole thing, it was slower and way more gentle.
Afterward, you stayed awake talking for what felt like hours until Gator had finally lost his battle with exhaustion. Now he was completely dead beside you, one arm sprawled across the mattress, face half-buried in the pillow, breathing slow and deep. You smiled and carefully slipped out from beneath his arm.
That was when you remembered your phone. You found one of Gator's shirts on the floor, pulled it on and quietly made your way downstairs. You found your purse where you had left it earlier and pulled out your phone.
The screen immediately lit up with notifications, a lot of them. Your eyebrows pulled together when you saw the name repeated across the screen, Ben.
Your stomach dropped as you unlocked your phone, the first message had been sent hours ago.
Ben : Hey, you free tonight ?
Another, twenty minutes later.
Ben : Or are you busy …?
Then, almost forty minutes after that.
Ben : Hey, you there ? Please …
Your chest started tightening.
Ben : Sorry
You scrolled and sat down on one of the kitchen stools. The next message had come nearly an hour later, and then it was a long thread of them, each sent a few minutes apart.
Ben : I don’t feel very good, not like sick tho
Ben : I don’t know …
Ben : Everything just feels really fucking bad tonight
Ben : I know this is probably weird after everything but can I see you ?
You swallowed as the timestamps kept getting later. You hadn't seen a single one.
Ben : I don’t even know what I need, I just kinda need you
Fuck. You looked toward the stairs instinctively but the house was completely silent. Gator was still asleep upstairs. You turned back to the phone.
Ben : Are you there ?
Ben : please
You rubbed your forehead seeing how many more he had sent.
Ben : Sorry
Ben : You don’t have to come or anything, just could talk for a bit if that’s okay ?
Ben : Guess you’re busy, it’s okay, I’m sorry
Your chest sank as you arrived to the the last few sent a little over an hour ago.
Ben : Forget it
Ben : I’ll figure it out myself
Ben : Goodnight bunny …
You stared at the screen and immediately started typing.
- : Ben I’m so sorry, I didn’t have my phone with me. I just saw all of these, are you okay ?
You waited anxiously with your phone in your hand. But after about five minutes, you still had no answer. You considered calling, but it was almost one in the morning and his last message had been over an hour ago, he was probably asleep. At least, you hoped he was. You typed one final message.
- : I’m really sorry I missed this, text me when you wale up okay ?
You stayed downstairs for another few minutes anyway, staring at your phone hoping Ben would answer, but he didn’t. Eventually, you sighed and stood, heading back upstairs, phone firmly in your hand this time.
Gator hadn't moved so you slipped back beneath the covers. Almost immediately, he shifted toward you on instinct. His arm found your waist and pulled you against him, nudging his face in your hair.
You stared into the darkness and reached for your phone one last time, still nothing. You placed it on the nightstand, Ben was probably sleeping, tomorrow morning, he will answer. You closed your eyes and let yourself settle back against Gator's chest. Eventually, sleep found you as your phone remained silent beside the bed.
Next morning, you woke with Gator still wrapped around you, one heavy arm across your waist and his face buried somewhere near your neck. He started stirring, which was probably what woke you up. “Morning.” His voice was rough with sleep as you turned toward him.
“Morning.” He kissed you before his eyes were even completely open, a soft and lazy kiss. You smiled against his mouth when he kissed you again, his hand sliding beneath the blanket just to pull you closer.
“Could get used to this.” He mumbled.
“Your own bed ?”
“You in it.” You smiled and your hand drifted lower, landing on the hem of his boxers. He laughed softly before gently grabbing your wrist, pulling it back up and kissing your palm. “Baby, I ain’t twenty anymore, you need to give me some time, my balls are fucking empty.” You burst out laughing and kissed him once more before Gator finally groaned and rolled onto his back. “And I'm fucking starving.”
He kissed you once more and climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and disappeared downstairs to make breakfast. Once you were alone, you reached for your phone and your smile faded slightly. Nothing, no answer from Ben.
You opened the conversation anyway and your messages from last night were all still there, without response. You stared at them for another few seconds before locking your phone, he was probably sleeping in, you will check again later.
Eventually, the smell of food dragged you downstairs. Gator had coffee waiting for you and breakfast nearly finished. “You're spoiling me Gator baby.”
“Don't get used to it.”
“Too late.” You ate together, talking about absolutely nothing important until your eyes wandered toward the empty living room again. This time, Gator caught it.
“You're thinking about decorating ?”
“I am. This place is depressing now. It looks like you've been robbed.”
“Well, I basically have.” You laughed.
“What do you think about plants ?” You asked.
“Absolutely fucking not.” You narrowed your eyes and Gator lasted approximately ten seconds before he sighed. “Fuck.” Your eyebrows lifted.
“What ?” He rubbed his face.
“If we drive a little farther out, there are those big home stores.” Your entire face lit up.
“Seriously ?”
“I already regret this, don’t get excited.” Too late, you practically launched yourself across the kitchen and wrapped your arms around his neck. Gator laughed as you kissed him.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Another kiss.
“You're gonna let me pick things ?”
“Nothing with fucking inspirational quotes on it or that kinda shit.” You kissed him again.
Twenty minutes later, you were both upstairs getting ready, bumping into each other in the bathroom and arguing over how much shit you were actually allowed to buy. By the time you walked outside together, Gator was already complaining about the day he had just voluntarily agreed to while you couldn't stop smiling. This was the type of domestic thing you craved so much with him.
For the moment, even the unanswered messages sitting on your phone slipped quietly toward the back of your mind.
You came back a few hours later with far more than Gator had originally agreed to buy. A rug, a couple of lamps, new cushions, some things for the kitchen and enough little decorations to make the ranch feel significantly less empty. And, surprisingly, Gator barely complained.
He sat on the couch watching you move things around, occasionally giving his opinion when you asked and letting you ignore it completely when you didn't like the answer. By the time you were finished, the ranch already felt warmer, more lived-in, and more his. Maybe, eventually, a little bit yours too.
At some point, you remembered your phone. You checked immediately but still nothing. The worry that had been quietly sitting in your stomach since that morning tightened. You considered mentioning it to Gator but didn’t. He already had enough guilt surrounding Ben, telling him his son had desperately tried to reach you last night and still hadn't answered would only make him worry too. So you put the phone away and spent the rest of Sunday together.
Dinner, television, more laughing and Gator complaining when you started browsing decorations online again. Eventually, it got late enough that he drove you home.
When he pulled up one street away, he turned toward you. “Take more shit tomorrow.” You frowned.
“More shit ? What ?”
“Clothes, I don’t know, whatever you need baby.” A smile slowly appeared.
“You want me back tomorrow ?”
“Obviously.” He reached over and rested his hand on your thigh. “Just come straight to the ranch after work. You see the old barn beside the house ?” You raised an eyebrow.
“What about it ?”
“Park your car inside so nobody sees it from the road.”
“That's actually smart.” You replied.
“Well don't sound so surprised.” You laughed.
“Okay, I’ll do that. You won't be at the station tomorrow, right ?” Gator groaned.
“Yeah. Campaign meetings all fucking day. Less than a week away now. Probably won't get home until late.”
“That's okay.” His thumb brushed over your leg.
“But I'll be real fucking happy to find you there when I do.” Your expression softened.
“I'll be there.” He pulled you closer and kissed you again before finally letting you go.
“Text me when you're inside.”
“I will.” You grabbed your bag and climbed out.
“I love you baby.”
“Love you too, Gator.” You closed the door and headed home.
Once inside, you immediately checked your phone again, nothing, Ben still hadn't answered. You tried to call him twice, but he didn’t pick up. You hoped he was fine and was just taking some time away from all this mess.
Monday morning came with the same thing Sunday had, nothing. You checked your phone before you even got out of bed but had no message from Ben. You tried not to immediately assume something was wrong, maybe he meant exactly what he said Saturday night, maybe he really did just want to be left alone. Still, you couldn't completely shake the worry.
You got ready for work and headed to the station. Gator wasn't there, exactly like he told you. Campaign meetings all day, apparently, which meant the station felt strangely different without him wandering around or finding increasingly ridiculous reasons to stop at your desk.
By lunchtime, you gave in, you called Ben again but he didn’t pick up. You tried again an hour later, still nothing.
By mid-afternoon, you couldn't concentrate properly anymore. You called one last time but once again, no answer. “Jesus Christ, Ben.” You opened your messages.
- : Okay I’m starting to worry, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but can you please just tell me you're okay ?
You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed. Your heart jumped.
Ben : Fine, just wanna be left alone for a while
Relief hit first, then guilt, but mostly relief. He was okay.
- : Okay, I’ll leave you alone then, but I’m here if you need me
When your shift finally ended, you drove straight to the ranch. Following Gator's instructions, you pulled around toward the old barn beside the house and parked inside. Your car disappeared almost completely from view, perfect. You grabbed the bag you packed that morning and walked toward the house.
Using your own key still felt strange, even stranger was stepping inside and finding absolutely nobody there. “Hello ?”
Silence, and you laughed quietly at yourself. Obviously Gator wasn't home, but still, standing alone in his kitchen felt oddly intimate, like you had crossed another invisible line.
You dropped your things upstairs and came back down, then decided to surprise him by cooking a dinner he liked, homemade lasagna, and while that cooked, you started baking something for dessert. Oatmeal raisin cookies, you remembered him mentioning that he liked them once. Soon enough, the kitchen was warm, music was playing quietly from your phone and practically every available surface had something on it.
You were halfway through cleaning the disaster you had created when headlights swept across the window. Your head snapped up and you saw Gator’s cruiser.
A few seconds later, the front door opened and he stepped inside, barely making it three feet before he stopped, sniffing. “What the fuck ?” You laughed from the kitchen.
“Hello to you too.” He appeared in the doorway, his eyes moved from you to the stove, then the counter, then back to you.
“You cooked ?”
“And baked.” Gator stared at you like you had just presented him with a winning lottery ticket.
“Baby.” He crossed the kitchen immediately and you barely had time to put down what you were holding before his hands found your waist and his mouth found yours. You smiled into the kiss.
“You like it ?”
“Are you fucking kidding ?” He kissed you again. “I've been listening to campaign bullshit for nine hours and I come home to this ?”
“Poor thing.”
“You have no idea.” He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face against your neck for a moment, making you laugh.
“Long day ?”
“Fucking terrible.”
“Dinner's almost ready.”
“I love you.” He said, and it made your heart swell a little. He caught you immediately and kissed you again.
Dinner was ridiculously domestic, and you loved every second of it. Gator told you about his meetings while you told him about the station. He complained about campaign strategy and you complained about one of the deputies. He stole food from your plate despite having the exact same thing on his.
At some point you caught yourself looking around at your decorations while Gator was sitting across from you. Dinner you had made in his kitchen and started imagining this every night. Eventually, Gator leaned back. “Got a call from a lawyer today.” Your stomach immediately tightened.
“And ?”
“Mia's agreeing to everything.” You went still.
“Everything ?”
“Everything we already discussed.” He shrugged. “No fight, no contesting shit. She'll sign so everything will be over quicker.” You tried very hard not to look as happy as you suddenly felt, but apparently you failed. Gator's mouth twitched. “You can smile baby, that’s good news.”
“I don't wanna be happy about her getting divorced.”
“Our divorce.”
“Still.” You shrugged. “It feels mean.” Gator reached across the table and took your hand.
“You can be happy about us moving forward without being happy that she got hurt.” Your eyes lifted. That … actually helped. You squeezed his hand.
“So it's really happening, no changing your mind ?” Gator's expression immediately turned serious.
“Not a fucking chance.” Your chest warmed.
After dinner, you cleaned together, or rather, you cleaned while Gator repeatedly got in your way. “Can you move ? You're literally blocking the dishwasher.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Gator.” He grinned as you finally put away the last plate and turned around. He was already there, his hands settling on your waist. He kissed you slowly and you immediately relaxed against him. Then he murmured against your lips.
“I owe you a proper thank you for dinner.” You raised an eyebrow.
“You said thank you already.”
“Not the way I'm planning to.” His expression made the implication perfectly clear.
“That so ?”
“Yeah.” Gator kissed you again before taking your hand. “Come upstairs.” You laughed softly and followed him.
Much later, the ranch finally went quiet. You both lay naked beneath the covers with your head against Gator's chest, his arm wrapped heavily around you. His breathing slowly evened out as you closed your eyes too. For the second night now, you fell asleep beside him in his own bed.
The next day passed almost normally. It was four days until the election, and that fact seemed to hang over the entire station like a storm cloud. Phones rang constantly, people came and went and campaign staff called Gator often enough that by noon you had stopped counting, and every conversation seemed to make the line between his eyebrows a little deeper.
You barely got to speak to him, but every once in a while, though, you could feel his eyes on you. Just a glance, sometimes accompanied by the smallest hint of a smile. Then someone would demand his attention again and he would disappear.
By the time your shift ended, he was still buried in work, and you didn't bother him. You grabbed your things, drove straight to the ranch and pulled into the old barn like you had done the day before. It was becoming weirdly routine already.
You had barely started dinner when you caught yourself smiling. Jesus Christ, this was getting domestic fast, and apparently you fucking loved it.
It was getting dark when headlights finally swept across the kitchen windows. You heard the cruiser, a door shutting and then the front door opening. “Baby ?”
“Kitchen.” Gator appeared a few seconds later looking completely exhausted. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You expected him to disappear upstairs and change, instead, he walked directly toward you. You were standing at the stove, stirring dinner, when his arms slipped around your waist from behind. “Long day again ?”
“Don't wanna fucking talk about it.” His chest pressed against your back, then his face disappeared into the side of your neck. You laughed softly.
“That bad huh ?”
“Mhm.” His lips pressed against your neck multiple times and you tilted your head slightly as he tightened his arms around you.
“I'm trying to cook, you’re distracting me.”
“Don't care.” Another kiss against your neck and then Gator finally lifted his head enough to mumble against your skin. “Missed you all fucking day.” Your heart squeezed.
“I was literally twenty feet away from you.”
“Couldn't touch you.” You turned slightly in his arms and he kissed your cheek. It took another two kisses and a considerable amount of complaining before he actually let go.
Dinner felt even more natural than the night before. You told him about your day while he told you about his. You complained about work even though you'd both been in the same building for most of it.
After dinner, Gator put his fork down. “You should bring more stuff, here I mean.” He gestured vaguely around the house. “More clothes and shit.” Your stomach fluttered.
“You're already tired of seeing me in the same three outfits ?”
“Little bit.”
“Fuck you.” He smiled.
“I'm serious.” Your smile slowly faded as you realized he actually was. “You don't have to keep bringing one fucking overnight bag every day, bring more.”
“How much more ?”
“I don't know.” He took another bite. “Whatever you want.” You stared at him, feeling your heart about to explode. “Baby, stop looking at me like I just proposed, I’m telling you to bring some fucking jeans over.”
“I know.” But you couldn't stop smiling, and Gator shook his head, clearly amused.
“You can use some of the closet.” You looked down at your plate, trying and failing to hide your smile. You felt like you were floating, it wasn't really moving in, but it was little pieces of your life that were slowly finding places inside his, and you fucking loved it.
You both went upstairs and had sex again, this was also a routine that you both loved. And once again, you both fell asleep naked in Gator’s bed, wrapped around each other.
The next morning, you woke to some noise somewhere in the house. At first, your brain didn't register anything strange about it, Gator was probably already awake. You kept your eyes closed, face half-buried in the pillow, listening vaguely to what sounded like something moving downstairs.
A cabinet, maybe footsteps, you weren't sure. Your brain felt like it was operating several minutes behind the rest of your body. Then you shifted beneath the covers and bumped into something warm. You frowned and opened one eye. It was Gator, still very much asleep beside you.
You stared at him, then toward the bedroom door. It was wide open and another sound came from downstairs. You blinked slowly, what the fuck ? Gator stirred when you moved again, his face scrunching slightly before one eye cracked open. “Mornin'.”
“There’s…” You stopped, there was what ? Noise ? Maybe you had dreamed it. You were so fucking tired you genuinely couldn't tell.
“There's what ?” He mumbled. You listened but heard nothing.
“Never mind.” Gator clearly didn't need convincing. His eyes fell shut again and one arm lifted lazily, an invitation.
“C’mere baby.” You didn't need to be asked twice, you shifted closer and tucked yourself against him, resting your head against his chest as his arm dropped heavily around you. You closed your eyes again.
You barely started drifting off again when you heard a creak. Your eyes snapped open, that was the staircase. You lifted your head and at exactly the same moment, Gator's eyes opened, fully this time. Another step, then another.
Gator moved instantly, his arm left you and his hand shot toward the nightstand. You barely had time to process what was happening before he grabbed his service gun. “Gator…”
“Stay.” His voice was low and alert, nothing like the half-asleep mumbling from ten seconds earlier. He was in full cop mode now. He pushed himself partially upright, the comforter still covering both of your naked bodies from the waist down.
Gator automatically moved one arm across you, putting himself between you and the open doorway. You pulled the blanket higher against your chest as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs. Gator raised the gun, then, a head appeared.
It was Charlotte. She reached the landing and immediately found herself staring directly down the barrel of her father's gun. Her eyes widened. “Jesus fucking Christ !” Gator lowered it immediately.
“Charlotte ?”
“What the fuck, dad ?!”
“What the fuck are you doing here ?” He asked, stunned.
“I came to…” She stopped. Her annoyance remained for approximately half a second before her eyes moved past Gator to you. Everything stopped, she froze and it felt like her gaze was paralyzing you. Nobody said a fucking word as her eyes dropped briefly, noticing your lack of clothing. Her mouth slowly fell open. “What the fuck ?”
Your heart stopped completely. Gator didn't move as Charlotte stared at you like her brain had simply refused to process the image in front of her. Then she took one slow step forward, like maybe she had seen wrong.
Her eyes narrowed and she took another step. You pulled the blanket even tighter against yourself while Charlotte stared. Gator finally lowered the gun completely onto the mattress.
“Charlotte…”
“No.” Her eyes snapped toward him, then back to you. She looked between the two of you one more time and her face twisted in disbelief. “Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me.”
general taglist : @proooof @maaaachiii @us3r4682 @delphinemix @cecesblogg
Gator’s in love, Guilty Gator, Stressed to the fucking max Gator, Taras husband comes over (still cant remember his name so excuse me), Dollies scared & sad (😭), Making a plan & Taras husband spills a secret (?) This part is VERY Gator focused.
TW: Bad language, Mentions of death. Angst.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, hands shaking that were surprisingly clean seeing as Gator did all of the dirty work for you. You could hear him letting the baby sitter free of her duties, Teddy was sleeping peacefully in his crib and there was silence coming from Dollies room. You look down at your shoes sighing, The only heels you owned coated in thick mud, a trail of footprints across your bedroom floor leading right to you.
"Fuck" You exhale, getting up quickly running to cupboard to grab some cleaning supplies. Dropping to your hands and knees as you spray the solution with shakey hands, you scrub and scrub but nothings working. A stain, a permanent reminder of the night and everything that caused it.
"Baby?" Gator pushed the door open slowly as he looked down at you on the floor, scrubbing like your life depended on it. Tears streaming down your cheeks not even noticing he was in the room "Baby, thats enough" He sighed resting his hand on your shoulder making you jump.
"I- I can't get the stain up" You whispered, eyes pleading with his as his softened as he took in your flustered state.
"I'll sort it tomorrow, cmon thats enough" Gators hands reached for yours, taking the products from your hands as you looked at him "Ya need ta get some sleep"
You shook your head as you looked at him, eyes wide.
"Can't sleep, what the fuck are we gonna do" You cried and Gators heart shattered as he looked at you, You weren't bad. You didn't mean any of this too happen, You were in an unfortunate situation that he'd do everything to fix.
"We can talk bout it tomorrow, not now baby girl" Gator whispered as his thumb brushed across your cheek wiping away the tears "Do ya trust me?"
"Y-yes" You whispered as you looked into his eyes, his arms wrapped around you as he lifted you off the floor placing you softly back down at the end of the bed.
"Then ya know nothin's gonna happen ta ya, wont let it" He whispered as he got on his knees in front of you, sliding your shoes off your feet placing them down onto the floor "Yer safe mama, its over now"
"Is it?" You asked breathlessly as your heart hammered in your chest, feeling of nausea washing over you. Gator stood up now holding onto your hands to pull you up, letting your hands drop as he spun you round.
"Mhm, course it is" He tried reassuring you as his hands rested against your back softly, lowering the zip before letting it drop off you. Leaving you stood in just your bra and panties as you turned back around to face him.
Gators eyes were soft on you, mouth fell slightly open as his eyes moved over your body. Taking in the soft curve of your hips, your swollen breasts, stretch marks still coating your stomach even though it had gone back down to its normal state. You noticed the look in his eyes wasn't the lustful one he usually looked at you with, it was something different. It was soft, adoring almost.
"My pretty girl" he whispered as his fingers hooked under your chin forcing you to look up at him, you smile softly but his expression doesn't change as he looks at you. It's like you can see everything and nothing in his eyes, so much he want's to say to you but right now he cant find a way to say it. His hands slowly brushed against the skin that covered your ribs as they reached for your bra clasp, undoing it slowly, letting it drop to the floor. "Nothins gonna happen" he said barely above a whisper as his hand moved back to your cheek.
"Okay" You whispered, feeling a little nervous under his intense gaze "Shall we go to bed?"
"I need a shower mama, Get in an ill be back" He half smiled leaning forward to kiss your forehead softly "I'll be quick" he added sensing the unease in you, the need to have him with you. You never thought the day would come where you needed him to feel safe, you never thought he'd become someone you could lean on. You climbed into the bed as you heard the shower turn on, laying on your back looking u at the ceiling. You know Gator said he wanted to talk about it tomorrow, but you don't think you can wait. You needed to know what the hell was going to happen going forward, how he was so sure that it was over and nothing was ever going to come back around. You know Tara's husband, you'd known him longer than you'd known Gator. You knew how much he loved Tara, you knew he'd do anything in his power to find her.
~
"Can we talk about it?" you asked as he walked back into the room, wet hair hanging down over his face, towel hooked around his hips. he didn't look up at you he just started drying off.
"Aint nothin ta talk bout, mama" he sighed shooting you a quick smile, your stomach turned. You knew what he was trying to do but you couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, you'd crack when her husband talked to you.
"Gator, please" You pleaded, voice wobbly. He looked up at you exhaling before sitting down on the bed next to you.
"When he comes, Ya need ta have yer story straight" He started "Yer gonna tell him she’s been havin second thoughts bout if this is tha life she wants, she's fuckin strugglin bein a mom and bein tied down an all tha, yer gonna tell him ya helped her get a new phone an leave" Your heart was racing, it was going to break his heart but at least it wouldn't break it as much as if he knew the truth "I'll back it up, I'll say we can't tell him where she's gone but she's safe. If he starts actin up and submits a report, I'll make it disappear"
His eyes were intense as he looked at you, you nodded slowly.
"Got it?" His voice was a little more stern this time, making goosebumps appear on your body as you met his eyes "Mama, ya hearin me?"
"G-got it" you whisper. Gator nods slowly as a smile creeps onto his lips, hand holding onto yours.
"We gotta be a team more than ever now mama, one of us breaks were both goin down" His words hit you like a truck, breath caught in your throat as you looked at him. Oh god, Dollie and Teddy. You couldn't fuck this up, you had to put the brave face on for them. You had to put all of your faith in Gator, you had to let him take the lead on this one.
"But what if it all comes out, were both going to jail" you whisper searching his eyes for some sort of relief "We lose everything, Gator"
"Wont happen" Both his hands rest against your cheeks forcing you to look at him "Aint ever gonna happen, fuck mama. Hell will freeze over before I see yer pretty face behind bars" he smiled softly but you could see the worry behind it.
"You can't fix everything" You sigh, Gators heart physically hurt. He'd do anything to fix things for you, he wouldn't ever make the mistake of letting anything ever happen to you again.
"I can" he whispered "And I will" his forehead falls against yours softly as he exhales, the sweet smell of your perfume turning his stomach for once. A smell he loved and found comfort in, a smell that if things really did go wrong he'd never smell again. "Now we gotta forget bout it, forget bout her"
"I know"
"I know its hard baby, but we cant talk about it anymore, we have to let it rest" he cringed at his words as he said them, you scoffed shaking your head.
"You're unbelievable"
"Sorry" Gator sighed as he lay back against his pillow, leaving his arm spread out across yours so you could lie with him. You lay down next to him, bare skin to bare skin as the warmth from you both soothed something in you. His arm tightened around you, turning slightly to kiss your head.
"You looked so good tonight, sugar"
You smiled softly, you and Gator had needed a date night for so long. It was almost laughable what the first date night between you both since having Teddy, but it was so on brand for Gator. "Wanna take ya out fer real"
"You do?" You asked pulling back a little so you can look up at him, smiling as he nods enthusiastically.
"Fuck yeah I do" He scoffs "Wanna show ya off" He whispers pulling you towards his face "Wanna let everyone see how pretty my baby is"
"Your baby?" you smile, heart fluttering in your chest.
"Mhmm, my baby."
"My"
Kiss
"Pretty"
Kiss
"Girl"
You hummed softly as Gators hand rested on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin softly as he looked into your eyes. Your heart was racing but not out of fear this time, you'd never felt as connected to him as you had the last few days.
"I love you" You whisper and the corners of gators lips tugged a little making your chest tighten. His lips brushed against yours softly before he pushed them into yours, breathing you in for a moment biting down softly on your lip.
"I love you" he whispered against your lips, kicking your heart off racing in your chest again because YOU. it wasn't a quick half arsed reply like you usually got, it held meaning, it held truth. It held everything you wanted to hear. I love YOU. You shuffled your body closer against him, letting your fingers trail down his chest as his squeezed softly at your hips, tongues brushing over yours as he groaned softly Into your mouth.
~
"Sh,Shhhh" Gator whispers as he climbs out of bed, making his way over to Teddy who was screaming in his crib. Tiny little hands balled into fists, legs kicking out sharply from his body. "Cmere" Gator whispered lifting him out softly, kissing the little tufts of hair on his head.
He waited a moment before moving to let his eyes adapt from the dark, shuffling out of the room heading downstairs with Teddy tucked in his arms still screaming. "Ya can't be hungry, its been like an hour" He sighed looking down at him, a smile breaking onto his lips when he noticed his little nose was turning red from all of the screaming. "Ya need some movement or somethin? Tha shit mama does" Gator whispers as he starts to sway, pulling him up closer to his face. "There we gooo" Gator draws out as Teddy starts to settle, continuing to sway until he's back sound asleep. "Ya think yer gonna remember me if I have ta go away?" Gator asks the already sleeping baby "Fuck, course ya wont. Aint much ta remember anyway son" Gator rambles completely exhausted as he makes his way back up to your room. Placing teddy down carefully not to wake him, exhaling once he's safely inside.
He pushes the door to Dollies room open slowly, sitting on the edge of her bed. Stroking the curls off her face, smiling at the way she pouts her little lips up making her dimples show as she dreams.
"I know ya wont forget me, Dollie dot" He whispered, kissing her nose softly "Always been us, baby. Dollie and daddy" Gators chest tightens at the thought of her being without him, Who would cut her food for her how she liked it? Would you know how to help her with star? Would you know which toy horses she already had so she didn't end up with doubles? "The fuck am I gonna do doll? I don't know how ta fix this one baby" Gator choked as he looked down at her. Placing both hands over his face as he shook his head, trying to pull himself back together. He needed to be the big strong man, but right now he was anything but that. He needed to protect his family, not run.
"Fuck" Gator whispers to himself as he walked back into he bedroom, running a hand through his hair. Body minutes away from giving up, completely wrecked as he made his way back over to the bed. The sound of tyres on the drive way stopping him in his tracks, he walked towards the window pulling the curtain back slowly.
"Shit" he groaned as he watched Taras husband pulling up outside the house, heart racing in his chest. He knew you were right that eventually he would turn up and ask questions but already? Okay two days with a missing wife was a lot, but right now? In the early hours of the morning?
Gator made It to the door before he had chance to knock, swinging it open. His eyes were puffy and red, hair a mess and he looked angry.
"Where is she?" he pushed past Gator into the front room "She with her?"
"Who" Gator furrowed his brows, closing the door before walking closer to him. "S'fucking 3am, no ones fuckin here"
"Then where is she?" he looked frantic, eyes wild as he started walking towards the stairs "Ta.."
"Shut yer fuckin mouth" Gator stopped him stepping in front of him "They're sleepin an I told ya, aint seen her" He stepped closer into his space, eyes burning down into him.
"Then where is she? she has to know they tell each other everything man! She's my wife, you have to understand how I'm feeling right now!"
Gator's stomach turned as he looked at him, the thought of this being you making his stomach turn. The thought of you buried in the cold and no one knowing except the monsters who did it to you, the thought of Dollie and Teddy growing up without you making guilt crawl through his body.
Gator looked at him, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue waiting to come out. But he had too much to lose, he had you to lose. No, he'd never let you take the wrap for this. He'd be the one with everything to lose, being locked up and not seeing his kids grow up. Gator could feel the sick coming up his throat, a wave of dizziness washing over him. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was everything that had happened the last few days catching up with him. The reality of how fucked up everything was right now. The reality that it all fell to him.
"You get it, right?" He asked pulling Gator from his thoughts "I've tried calling her, Straight to voicemail"
Shit, the phone.
"S-she probably just needs a break" Gator shrugs, completely straying from the plan you both made together, completely on the spot. "S'hard bein a mom"
"No, she.." he sighs "Tommy's her world, she wouldn't leave him. She wouldn't leave me"
Shit, Tommy.
"I just wanna know where she is, this isn't her man. I'm gonna go to the station tomorrow see if they can track her phone or something"
Like hell he was.
"I know she had this thing goin on with your girl but, it was just a drunken mistake. Yeah we argued but like, we were gonna work through it" He sighed.
"Drunken mistake?" Gator asked feeling more awake than ever all of a sudden, Tara and her phone quickly forgotten.
"Yeah man, at the bar when you and her were arguing or something. Tara said happened a lot, it's fucked up. I think thats why she's run off, but fuck I'll forgive her! You'd do the same right?"
Gators head was spinning, heart in his throat as he stared at him. Drunken mistake? Arguing? What happened a lot?
"Tell me wha? Yer makin no fuckin sense" Gator shouted, completely overwhelmed in the moment. "Ya gonna fuckin tell me or keep playin stupid fuckin games?"
Tiny little footsteps came racing down the stairs, Gator turned quickly to see a sleepy Dollie with her bunny tucked up against her face. Eyes wild as she looked at him.
"Daddy?" Gators heart was sinking, she looked scared. A look he never wanted to see in her, bottom lip trembling as she looked at him. "Why are you shouting?"
Gator walked over to her quickly, dropping to his knees in front of her.
"M'sorry baby, go back to bed" Dollie shook her head as she looked at him, stray tears starting to fall down her cheeks. Gators heart was breaking as he looked at her, shit he'd fucked up.
"I'm scared, daddy" Gators head was spinning, fuck, fuck, fuck. Her big eyes that matched his filled with tears as she looked down at him. "I don't like shouting, is it monsters?" She asked with a shake in her voice and in that moment Gator didn't know how to answer because yes. She was looking right down on a monster, a monster who just buried a body in the garden that she plays in. A body in the garden she walks over to see star, the garden that they sit to eat lunch together on the rare times he can get away on his break. Head spinning as he looked down at her, wanting to scoop her up and run.
"N- no monsters" Gator replied breathlessly but Dollie didn't believe him, she could see in the way he was acting that something was off. For once in her whole life she wasn't getting the re assurance she needed, she was scared. And Gator couldn't fix it.
"Monsters" Dollie cried as she looked at him, Gator ran a hand over his face. Completely forgetting that Taras husband was still stood behind him, watching this all unfold. "You said no monsters ever!" Dollie cried, almost a scream as she looked at him.
"Man I'm gonna go"
Gator stood up turning towards him, the sound of Dollies cries still filling his ears.
"Wait" Gator held his hand out to stop him "jus let me sort her then we can talk"
"Daddy!" Dollie squealed, walking towards him pulling on his arm to get his attention back on her. Waking Teddy again who was now screaming upstairs, Gator placed his hand on the top of Dollies head in an attempt to comfort her.
"Shit" Gator exhaled, not able to think straight as everything going on raced through his mind. Everything feeling a little too much, something was about to break. He was about to lose it, right here surrounded by chaos.
"Just.. ask her about the affair, man"
"Daddy! Get the monsters out!" Dollie squealed, Teddy joining in with the screaming from upstairs. Gator stared at Taras husband, a feeling of rage quickly building in his body. An affair? A fucking affair? With who? Tara?
Dollie repeatedly pulls on his arm, rubbing her face into his leg as she cries.
"Affair?" Gator asks barely above a whisper, He nods before leaving Gator stood in the chaos surrounding him and his mind.
WOOF BITCH didn’t get into the action just made it a little dirty talk cause I’ve wrote so much ‘Gator sex’ lately
Your breath caught in your throat as Gators hands settled on your hips, pulling your ass back against him.
"Ya busy baby?" He whispered against your ear, letting his nose drag against your cheek. "Been missin ya real bad all shift"
"Just finishing this up, how was work?"
Gator groaned pushing his hips forward so his hard length pressed into your ass, you dropped the sponge into the sink spinning round to face him.
"was hell, thinkin bout this pretty pussy all damn day" his fingers move down to between your legs, pulling your dress up out of the way sliding two fingers against the cotton of your panties "huh, ya been thinkin bout me too apparently sugar"
"Always" you smile up at him, watching the smirk spread across his lips. He lifts you up to sit on the edge of the counter, lips crashing into yours as he pulls you closer so he can thrust against you.
"fuckin soakin baby, can feel ya through these" he groans into your ear before biting the lobe softly, you gasp pushing your hips closer to him "Ya been thinkin bout what I asked ya sugar?" he stuttered out as his hips continued to slam against you. So desperate to be inside, to fill you up for the next nine months.
"Mhm" you hum, arching your back as you moan biting down on your lip.
"Ya gonna let me get ya all round an pretty?" his thick fingers loop into the band of your panties messily trying to rag them down your legs "Get ya all swollen, make these all full" he gave up trying to pull your panties down letting his hands move up to your chest, squeezing your tits roughly as his hard cock rutted against your needy pussy.
"Maybe" you gasp out.
"Maybe?" He laughs breathlessly against your neck "Gonna fuck ya so hard you'll be beggin me to" He steps from between your legs yanking your panties down, fumbling with his belt to free himself.
A little something @jas-mines-things and I are working on together but she wrote this part 💖
They all looked at me.
Not with curiosity and not with kindness. But with judgment so thick you could taste it in the air. That's how it always was in a small town like this. The people in the town didn't care nor need facts, they just needed a name. And they had one. Tillman was enough. Being with a Tillman meant you were either brave, stupid, or in love. And most people just decided I was the last two.
Everyone had something to say about it. Those warnings, whispering behind hands. Opinions tossed around the town. Those little comments that stung and they knew it would. But when all the noise finally settled, they asked me many things. And one of them was
“What was it like? What was loving Gator Tillman like??
And for the longest time, I never knew how to answer. How could I?
Because when I was in his arms, and he was in mine,the world outside didn’t exist. The stares of the town didn't matter. The rumors they said didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the quiet, stolen moments we shared. Just us. Just Gator and I.
Sometimes it was in his cruiser, late at night, the day was rough and felt like it had taken a beating on us. The air smelled of dust and pine and a hint of that cologne he would wear. In the background the radio would crackle with static. He’d lean back on his seat, sighing like the weight of the whole county sat on his shoulder.
“Shitty day,” he’d mutter
“Yeah” I'd say to him softly as I began to slide closer to him.
And somehow, somewhere between the exhaustion and silence, he leaned in to kiss me. Hard. hungry. Desperate. His hands were rough, calloused from work and the life he carried. But they held me like i was something soft and he didn't want to break.
But it wasn't really just about us kissing and making out. In that moment it was just two worn out souls searching for each other in the exhausting rough day we shared. Sometimes he would rest his forehead against mine, breathing me in like I was the only clean air left in this world. Sometimes he would whisper things that he’d never dare say in the daylight. Things about wanting better, wanting peace, wanting me
And I believed him because love makes you blind. And I was willing to be blind if it meant Gators hands were the one covering my eyes and my heart.
But eventually, it was his own hands that pulled away from me. He uncovered my eyes and forced me to see the real him. The real world. The parts I didn't want to look at. The part where love wasn't enough. Where promises began to crack and break apart. Where the danger they mentioned was no longer a rumor but a reality.
Now that the blindfold is gone, if they asked me again,
“What was it like loving him?”
“What was it like to love Gator Tillman?”
I finally have an answer.
Loving gator was red.
Red like heart draws in your secret notebook. Red like the valentine cards and cheap roses from the gas station he’d bring me after a long shift at the station. Red like the same organ beating in my chest when he walked into a room.
Red is love
Loving Gator is red.
But red is also danger. It is bright and loud when it is trying to warn you. Red like the flashing lights on his cruiser when he sped towards the trouble of the town. Red like the glad i decided to ignore. Red like the heat in his voice when he was scared and didnt know how to express it. How to say it.
Loving Gator is red.
Red is anger. The color of an emotion that means a storm will probably break out soon. Red like the fights that started too fast and would end too quietly. Red like the hurt he never meant to cause but still caused it.
Loving gator is red.
Red is known for many things. Some good. Some bad. Some are beautiful. Some are dangerous. But in the end, loving gator felt red.
Every shade of him. Every warning that came with him. Every heartbeat of his. Every bruise that his soul carried. Every one of those moments felt like fire.warm, bright, and burning.
TW : age gap, mentions of divorce, arguing, both red flags in this, Gator/Mia conversation
Words : 4.9k
You pulled away from him so quickly that Gator's arms were left hanging in the air. “What the fuck are you talking about ?” He blinked, surprised by your reaction.
“Baby…”
“You're spending the day with Mia ?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Are you fucking serious ?”
“Would you let me…” You kept cutting him off, way too pissed.
“No, actually, I don't think I will.” You stepped away from the desk entirely and Gator sighed.
“That's not what I…”
“You just spent the last fucking week telling me you're leaving her.”
“I am.” He replied, trying to stay calm.
“You spent last night blowing up my phone telling me I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you and now suddenly you have Saturday plans with your wife ?” Gator opened his mouth but you pointed at him, not giving him the chance to speak. “No, don’t try to fucking ‘baby’ me either.”
“I didn’t. I was going to explain.”
“Well, I'm listening.” He took a breath, unclenching his jaw.
“So…”
“Actually, no, because what the fuck is there to explain ? You’re full of shit Gator.” His eyes closed as you started pacing. “You know what ? This is exactly what I was fucking talking about.”
“What is ?”
“The constant back and forth !”
“There is no…”
“You leave her, then you panic at the hotel, then you tell me you love me, then you spend an entire day avoiding me because I ask for space, and now that we're finally okay again you casually drop ‘oh, by the way, spending Saturday with my wife’ ?”
“Would you shut up for five fucking seconds ?” He finally snapped, and your head flew toward him.
“Excuse me ?” You grabbed your phone from where you dropped it beside his desk. “Maybe I'll make plans too then.” Gator stared at you.
“Don’t. I know exactly what you're doing.”
“Great. Maybe I'll call Ben, his does that sound ?” His expression immediately darkened.
“That isn't fucking funny, you’re being an asshole.”
“And you're spending Saturday with your fucking wife !”
“I KNOW.” His voice boomed through the office and you both froze. Gator immediately glanced toward the closed door and lowered his voice. “I expect you to let me explain.”
“Go ahead, but honestly, if you're about to tell me it's because of the fucking election…”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“…I swear to God, Gator, because I'm so fucking tired of hearing about…”
“Stop.”
“…that goddamn election every time you need an excuse to…” Gator moved and you barely had time to register it before he was in front of you. His hands closed around your upper arms, using the leverage to turn you around and pushed your arms behind your back, as if he was fucking arresting you. “Gator, let go of me.”
“I will the second you shut the fuck up and listen to me for thirty fucking seconds.” You glared at him and he stared right back. You tried to pull one arm away but he was way too strong, so you stopped fighting.
“Fine.”
“I'm helping Mia move her stuff into an apartment.” You stopped completely and Gator waited with a smug look on his face, like he was expecting you to apologize or something. Your eyebrows slowly pulled together.
“What ?”
“An apartment, for her.” He finally released you. “She needed somewhere else to live so I could get my fucking ranch back. Tomorrow we're going to move her stuff into an apartment she rented.” You blinked.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Gator crossed his arms. “Don’t have much to say now do you baby ?”
“Don't be a dick.” A tiny smile threatened the corner of his mouth, but quickly disappeared.
“So you're just… helping her move ?”
“Basically.”
“Why ?” Gator looked at you like that was obvious. “Because she's been living at the ranch for twenty fucking years.”
“So ?”
“So I'm not throwing her out with a suitcase and telling her good luck.” You immediately felt slightly shitty, but you couldn’t help it, the jealousy was flaring. “She needed somewhere decent, Charlotte will probably wanna move in with her. After what happened, I don’t think she’d want to stay at the ranch with me.” He leaned back against his desk and you nodded slowly. “And once she has settled somewhere, I can finally go home.” You hadn't really thought about that part, Gator had been living out of that shitty motel for what felt like forever now. “The ranch is mine.”
“I know.”
“It's where I grew up. I'm not staying in that fucking motel forever.” You played with a loose thread on your shirt, then another thought occurred to you.
“Why do you have to go with her ?” Gator stared at you. “She's an adult, she can handle herself.”
“Because nobody knows that we're separating, outside the family, nobody knows shit yet.” Right, the election, you could practically hear the word before he even said it. “So if Mia suddenly starts putting her stuff into an apartment alone, people might ask questions. We told the realtor that this is Charlotte’s apartment, that she wanted to be independent and shit like that.” Gator rubbed his forehead.
“So you’re gonna play perfect husband again huh ?”
“Pretending to.” He emphasized the word. “I just help her put her stuff in here, then I leave.” You crossed your arms.
“So you're still playing happy couple all day.” He sighed loudly, trying to keep calm.
“Jesus Christ.”
“With your wife.” You also emphasized that word.
“Soon-to-be ex-wife.”
“That’s still your wife.” Gator stared at you, and you weren’t sure if he wanted to kill you or fuck the attitude right out of you. Then, his expression softened.
“You're jealous.” A grin started appearing.
“Don't you fucking dare.”
“Baby, you’re jealous because I'm spending Saturday with Mia when I just fucked your brains out on my desk ?” You turned away but Gator immediately caught your hand. “Hey, I’m not spending the day with my wife because I want some fucking romantic Saturday with her.” He tugged gently until you stepped closer. “I'm helping her get out of my house, and then I'm going home.” You nodded as his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
“I know.” Gator studied your face.
“You're still pissed.”
“A little.”
“Why ?” You gave him an incredulous look.
“Because I still don't particularly enjoy the idea of my boyfriend spending his entire Saturday in an apartment with his not-yet-ex-wife while pretending they're still together.” Gator considered that.
“Fair, but I don't exactly enjoy it either. I'd rather be with you.” Your eyes lifted to his.
“Then maybe lead with that next time, Instead of ‘I'm spending the day with Mia.’ Because that sounded fucking terrible.” He pulled you a little closer, rubbing his mouth on your cheek to soothe you.
“You done trying to kill me ? You need to stop threatening me with my son. This isn’t fair for me, and this clearly isn’t fair for him either.” You nodded, agreeing with him on that one, but you were so pissed this was the first thing that came to your mind. His shoulders relaxed and he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles.
Gator kept his arms around you for another moment, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. “I'll try to rush tomorrow, the apartment shit. I'm not planning on spending eight fucking hours packing up boxes with Mia.” That pulled a reluctant smile from you as his hands settled at your waist. “I'll try to get it done early, and if you want…” He hesitated slightly. “We could do something tomorrow night.” Your expression softened.
“Yeah ?” Gator brushed his thumb against your side.
“Won't be the whole day like you wanted, but…” He trailed off, and you placed a small kiss on his lips.
“I'd like that.” The relief on his face was immediate.
“Okay baby. Then it's a date.” Gator leaned down and kissed you again and again. His hands tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him.
“You’re terrible at explaining things, and you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack five minutes ago.” You said.
“I know.” You pulled back enough to glare at him but Gator kissed you again, asshole.
For the next few minutes, every attempt to actually separate seemed to result in another kiss. Eventually you laughed against his mouth and pushed lightly against his chest. “I need to go home.” Gator chased your lips for one last kiss before finally letting you move away.
“Yeah.” You fixed your clothes and reached for your purse. His eyes deliberately dropped to your lips once again and he grinned. You shook your head and slung your purse over your shoulder.
“I'll see you tomorrow night then ?”
“You will baby.” Gator stepped forward and pulled you against him one last time. “Hey, I don't wanna spend my Saturday with her you know ? But I’ll finally get may house back, it’ll be better for everyone.”
“I know.” You nodded and he kissed your forehead.
“I'll call you tonight when I get back to the motel.”
“You don't have to.”
“I want to.” Your mouth softened into a smile.
“Okay.” Gator kissed you one final time and slapped your ass as you walked toward the door.
“Drive safe baby.”
“You too.” You opened the office door, checking the bullpen automatically before stepping out. A few seconds later, you were walking through the station and toward the parking lot, and once you were finally alone in your car, you dropped your forehead against the steering wheel.
Jesus Christ, you felt like an idiot. You'd barely let the man finish a sentence before practically accusing him of rebuilding his marriage behind your back. He was helping Mia move somewhere else, that was it. A perfectly reasonable thing to do after ending a marriage that had lasted years. You even respected him for not simply throwing her out of the ranch and leaving her to figure everything out alone.
And yet, the second he'd said I'm spending the day with Mia, something ugly had twisted inside your stomach, plain and fucking simple jealousy. You grimaced. “Get a fucking grip.” You started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. But no amount of rational thinking could completely silence the irritating little voice in the back of your head. She was still his wife, not his ex-wife, not yet.
By the time you got home, your jealousy had gone from burning irritation to a low, embarrassing simmer. You knew you overreacted, there really wasn't any other way to put it. Apparently, logic and jealousy existed in two completely separate parts of your brain, and neither had any interest in communicating with the other.
You changed into comfortable clothes, made dinner as your parents were God knows where again and spent most of the evening half-watching something on television. Around nine-thirty, your phone finally rang, Gator. You let it ring twice before answering.
“Hey.”
“Hey, baby.” You settled deeper into the couch.
“You make it back ?”
“Yeah. Just walked into this luxurious fucking establishment by the side of the road.” You smiled.
“How's the presidential suite ?”
“Five stars.” You laughed again and heard movement on the other end, followed by what sounded like Gator dropping heavily onto the bed, then a groan.
“You okay ?”
“Long fucking day.”
“You're getting old.”
“Fuck you.” You smiled slightly. For a few minutes, you talked about absolutely nothing. He complained about someone from the campaign while you told him about something stupid you'd seen online. Eventually, there was a comfortable pause, then Gator sighed. “About tomorrow.” You immediately groaned.
“Gator, I’m not starting again.”
“Neither am I. I just wanna say something.” You stared at the ceiling, letting him talk. “I know you feel stupid for earlier.” Your brows pulled together.
“I don't feel stupid.”
“You absolutely fucking do.”
“Fuck you.” Gator laughed quietly. “Okay I overreacted a little.”
“A little ?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Kinda liked it, though.” You frowned, your mouth parting open.
“What ?”
“You getting jealous, I liked it. Because usually I’m the psycho.” A laugh escaped the both of you before his voice became more serious again. “But really, you don't have anything to worry about tomorrow.” Your smile faded. “I'm not spending the day with my wife, I’m just helping the mother of my kids move somewhere to start her life without me.” That shut you up and you looked down at your lap.
“Okay.”
“And I need to get back home, I’ve had enough of this fucking motel.” You heard him shift on the bed. “And once we're done tomorrow… I'm coming to see my girl.” Your stomach did something embarrassingly stupid.
“Your girl ?”
“Yeah, she’s a fucking nightmare.” You smiled and bit the inside of your cheek. “But damn I love her.” You felt your heart swell again, smiling like an idiot.
“I think she loves you too.” You could almost hear him smile on the other side of the line. “What time are you going tomorrow ?”
“Nine, so pretty early, trying to get it over with. I’m going to sleep now, so I can be fresh for my girl tomorrow night.” You smiled again.
“Goodnight, Gator.”
“Goodnight baby, I love you.”
“I love you too, idiot.”
Saturday morning, Gator pulled into the ranch a little after nine. He killed the engine and stayed behind the wheel for several seconds. The place looked exactly the same, but somehow, it didn't feel like home anymore, not yet at least.
Gator finally climbed out of the cruiser. Mia had already started without him. He found the front door unlocked and walked inside to the sound of cardboard scraping against hardwood. “Mia ?”
“Upstairs.” He followed her voice and saw boxes lined the hallway. Some sealed, some half-filled with thick black marker labeling them. Gator stopped. He knew she was leaving and he wanted her to leave, but seeing twenty years reduced to cardboard boxes did something strange to his chest. Mia came out of the bedroom carrying another one, stopping when she saw him.
“You're late.” Gator checked his watch.
“By four minutes. And morning to you too.” She pushed the box toward him.
“Take this.” No hello, but fair enough, Gator took it.
“This weighs forty fucking pounds.” He carried it downstairs and by the time he returned, Mia already had another box waiting, and that became the rhythm of the morning.
Mia had rented a small moving van for the furniture and larger boxes, but anything fragile or important was going into Gator's cruiser, neither of them trusted a rented truck with it.
Around ten-thirty, Gator walked into the bedroom and found Mia sitting on the edge of the bed. She had a framed photograph in her hands, their wedding. He looked away first. “You taking that ?” Mia stared at it.
“No.” She placed it face-down on the nightstand and he quickly picked up another box.
Later, they ended up packing the kitchen together, and that was somehow worse. Every cabinet contained something attached to a memory, a chipped mug Ben had made as a kid, a serving dish Charlotte had broken and Mia had glued back together, some stupid souvenir magnet from a vacation Gator barely remembered enjoying.
By eleven, the back of the cruiser was nearly full. Gator was carrying another box toward the door when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He shifted the box against his hip and pulled it out. A message waited for him, making his expression change immediately.
- : How’s the divorce workout going ? Do cardboard boxes count as cardio ?
His mouth twitched as he typed with one thumb.
Gator : Come do this shit yourself and find out baby
The response came immediately.
- : Absolutely not, emotionally supporting you from my couch though !
Gator smiled, a real and genuine smile as Mia watched him. “Her ?” The smile disappeared as he looked up.
“What ?” Mia nodded toward the phone.
“Is that her ?” He stared at her for a second, then looked back at the screen.
“Yeah.” She nodded and Gator shoved the phone back into his pocket. Then Mia picked up the tape dispenser and pulled another strip of tape across a box.
“I haven't seen you smile like that in years.”
“Mia…”
“I'm not starting a fight.” He studied her, and she didn't look angry, just looked tired. Gator set the box down.
“Okay.” Mia pressed the tape down.
“Do you love her ?” This time, he didn’t hesitate.
“Yeah.” Mia's hands stopped just for a second, then she continued smoothing the tape.
“How much ?” Gator frowned.
“What kind of question is that ?”
“A pretty straightforward one.”
“I don't know how the fuck you want me to quantify that.” He replied, and Mia looked at him.
“More than you ever loved me ?” Gator went quiet, and her expression changed. He didn’t respond, and to her, that was enough of an answer. She nodded faintly and drew her attention back to her box. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his jaw.
“It's not the same.” She laughed bitterly.
“No, clearly not.”
“That isn't what I meant.” He tried, but was already exhausted from this conversation.
“Then what did you mean? ” Gator struggled for an answer, because anything he said was going to hurt her.
“We were kids, Mia. We were fucking kids. And I loved you, I really did. But her ?” He stopped and his eyes dropped toward his pocket, toward the phone hidden inside. “With her… it’s just different. ” He exhaled.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it is.”
“How ?” Gator looked toward the window.
“I don't know.”
“That convincing, huh ?” She pushed.
“Jesus Christ, Mia. I'm trying not to be a fucking asshole.” That made her go quiet and Gator sighed again. “She makes me… feel like I can still be something else than what my dad wanted me to be.” Her eyebrows pulled together.
“Something else than what ?” Gator gave her a look. They both knew about the Tillman name and every ugly fucking thing attached to it.
“Just…” He shook his head. “Something better.” Mia looked at him for a long moment.
“And I didn’t ?”
“That isn't what I said.” He stepped closer. “You knew me before I even knew what the fuck I was supposed to be.” Mia's eyes dropped. “I think somewhere along the way, we stopped being two people who loved each other and started being two people who knew how to live around each other.” That one hurt them both and they avoided eye contact. After a few minutes, she spoke again.
“So you do love her more.”
“Mia.”
“I'm not asking to punish you.” She looked directly at him. “I just need to understand why you're blowing up our entire life.” Gator's jaw tightened and he ignored that, going back to taping another fucking box. “Does Charlotte know her ?” His entire body went still and Mia noticed immediately. He looked away and she nodded, like his body had given her an answer. “Charlotte knows her then.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I'm not talking about this right now.” Mia stared at him.
“Does Ben know her too ?” Gator's face changed again, and she nodded once more, humming. “Ben knows her too.”
“Drop it.”
“Who the fuck is she ? Is she someone from town ?” He grabbed the box he'd put down.
“We need to finish, we’ve got a fucking moving van sitting outside.”
“Is she someone we know ? Why is this such a secret ? Why is it bad enough that you won’t tell anyone ?” Gator looked down as Mia's eyes searched his face. “What the fuck did you do ?” The words hit harder than she could possibly know. For one second, Gator was back in that hotel room with Ben on the floor and you staring at him. His jaw clenched.
“Mia, not today.” His voice was sharp, and that stopped her, for now at least.
By late afternoon, you'd managed to accomplish almost nothing, too preoccupied with the idea that Gator was with his wife. Your phone buzzed sometime after four.
Gator : Almost free baby
Your mouth immediately curved into a smile, then another message appeared.
Gator : We’re basically done, gotta go grab some food with her and then im free
Your smile vanished and you typed immediately.
- : ?????
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Gator : Don’t start
Your eyebrows shot up and you sat straighter on the couch.
- : I’m not starting anything, have fun on your date ❤️
Gator : I swear to fucking god
You burst out laughing.
Gator : We’re getting fucking burgers with Charlotte's boxes still in the back of my cruiser
You locked your phone before you could turn something that simple into another emotional crisis.
It was nearly two hours later when your phone buzzed again. You were upstairs this time, standing in front of your closet trying to decide whether changing into pajamas at seven in the evening officially qualified as giving up on the day.
Gator : there in 20, pack a bag for the night with whatever shit you need. I’ll park one street over, be discreet baby
Your smile faded slightly, right, nobody knew yet. You still had to do this part, sneaking around, looking over your shoulder and making sure no neighbor saw you climbing into the sheriff candidate's cruiser with an overnight bag.
You grabbed a small bag and started throwing things inside. You slipped your shoes on, grabbed your purse and bag and headed downstairs. Before opening the front door, you checked around you and stepped outside, locking the door and starting walking.
You turned the corner and the cruiser was there, parked beneath a tree a little farther down the street. You immediately recognized Gator behind the wheel. He leaned across the center console and pushed the passenger door open from inside. “Get in.” You tossed your bag into the back and climbed inside. The second the door closed, Gator's hand went to the back of your neck and you barely managed to get your seatbelt out of the way before he pulled you toward him.
His mouth met yours and you smiled into the kiss. “Hi baby.” Another kiss.
“Hi.” He kissed you again and you pulled back enough to look at him. He looked … relaxed. He caught your face and kissed you again before you could move.
“I missed you.” Gator gave you one final kiss, then he released you and put the cruiser into drive. You settled into the seat.
“Where are we going ?” He glanced toward you, a smug look on his face.
“I'm going home.” You stared at him. Something in his expression changed, pride, maybe relief. After weeks of shitty motel rooms and living out of bags, he was finally going back to the place he'd spent most of his life. You looked ahead again.
“And I'm coming ?” Gator glanced toward you like the question itself was stupid.
“Obviously.”
“But Mia…”
“Gone baby. Finished moving everything important today.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “She's sleeping at the apartment tonight.”
“Oh.” Gator was taking you to his home, the home he'd shared with Mia, the home Ben and Charlotte had grown up in. The ranch you'd only ever entered before while carrying the weight of everything you weren't supposed to be doing. “You’re sure ? She moved out today and you’re brining me here tonight ?”
“Yeah.” He reached across the console and held his hand out. You looked down, then placed yours in it. His fingers closed around yours. “I've spent enough fucking nights sleeping somewhere I don't belong.” He brought your hand toward his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “I'm going home, and I want you there.”
You didn't know what to say to that, so you squeezed his hand and Gator squeezed back. And several minutes later, the ranch finally appeared in the distance.
Gator unlocked the front door and pushed it open. “Welcome to my home baby.” You smiled and stepped inside. The difference was immediate. The ranch felt empty. The major furniture was still there, couch, dining table, kitchen appliances, all the things that had apparently been decided belonged with the house rather than Mia. But there were gaps everywhere, empty spaces on shelves, bare walls where pictures had once hung, a side table missing beside the couch and the decorations were gone.
The little things that made a house look lived in had disappeared. “Wow.” Gator closed the door behind you.
“What ?”
“She took a lot.”
“No shit.” He picked up your overnight bag before you could and carried it farther inside. You slowly followed, the place looked almost too big now. But strangely, instead of making you sad, your brain immediately started filling the empty spaces, a lamp there, different curtains, something on that wall, maybe a rug.
You smiled to yourself. You'd help him make the place feel like a home again. Gator dropped your bag near the stairs before walking into the kitchen. He tossed his keys onto the counter, followed by a thick folder he'd been carrying beneath his arm. You pointed toward it. “What's that ?”
Gator glanced down and pulled out one of the stools. “Divorce paperwork.” You stopped.
“What ?”
“We talked today.” Gator leaned against the counter. “She agreed to sign them as soon as the election is over.” Your heart jumped.
“She agreed ?” Gator nodded.
“We went over everything.”
“The ranch ?”
“Mine.”
“Everything else ?”
“Mostly figured out.” You stared at him, stunned but so fucking happy.
“You're really getting divorced.” Gator looked at you.
“Yeah, baby.” The relief hit your face and you crossed the kitchen before you even thought about it. Gator caught you immediately, arms wrapping around your waist as yours went around his neck. You kissed him slowly as his hand moved against your back. When you eventually pulled away, he kissed you once more, then again and again. “Feel better ?” You nodded.
“A lot.”
“Good.” He kissed your forehead. “Sit.”
“Why ?”
“Because I'm making dinner for us.” You stared at him.
“You ?”
“Fuck's that supposed to mean ? I know how to cook.” He pointed toward the stool. “Sit your ass down.” You laughed and obeyed. And then, you watched, fascinated. Gator moved around the kitchen like he'd done this a thousand times, which, obviously, he probably had.
You rested your chin in your hand and just kept staring until dinner was ready. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it might as well have been. You ate together at the kitchen counter, knees occasionally bumping beneath it.
You laughed when he told you more about the move. You made fun of him for apparently nearly losing a fight with Mia's dresser. He insisted the fucking thing weighed three hundred pounds, but you didn't believe him.
For once, everything felt easy and normal. By the time you finished, you'd almost forgotten how complicated everything outside this kitchen still was. You helped him clear the plates, Gator washed and you dried. “You need decorations in this place now, you can't live in an empty serial killer house.”
“I've got furniture.”
“That's not decorating Gator baby. We're going shopping when it’s all over.”
“No, we're fucking not.”
“We absolutely are.” You laughed as Gator dried his hands.
“Speaking of.” You frowned as he disappeared down the hallway. A few seconds later, he returned and walked toward you without saying anything, then placed something on the counter right in front of you.
A key. “What's that ?” Gator leaned against the counter.
“Key for the ranch.” Your eyes moved back down, then up.
“Why are you giving me that ?” Gator's expression changed. The teasing disappeared as he picked up the key and held it between you.
“Because I meant what I said about you, about us.” He took your hand and placed the key in your palm before closing your fingers around it. “I know I've been all over the fucking place lately, I know I've given you reasons to wonder if I'm sure, so I'm showing you.” Your throat tightened.
“Showing me what ?”
“That I'm sure.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I want you here. I don't mean moving in tomorrow, obviously, before you freak the fuck out.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Sure.” You pushed his shoulder but he caught your hand. “I mean I don't want you asking permission to come here. You wanna come over ?” He squeezed your fingers around the key. “Come over. You wanna wait here when I'm working ?” Another squeeze. “Wait here.” “You wanna show up because you had a shitty day and need somewhere to go ?” His eyes stayed on yours. “Come home.”
That one nearly destroyed you. Your heart felt too big for your chest as you looked down at the key again. Something so small and so ordinary, yet Gator had just handed you access to the most personal place he had. His childhood home, his ranch.
You stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him. He caught you as you buried your face against his chest. “You happy baby ?” You nodded.
“Yeah.” His arms tightened.
“Good.” You pulled back and kissed him, feeling him smile against your lips. You looked down at the key still trapped between your bodies. Standing there in the middle of his kitchen, wrapped in his arms and stupidly, impossibly happy, you genuinely believed the worst was finally behind you.
You had no fucking idea what was coming.
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wc: 9.2k (HELL YEAH)
18+ MDNI NSFW (I REPEAT... DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU'RE A MINOR OH MY GOD)
warnings: holy shit dawg. fuckin' hell where do I start? caught groping, public groping in church (also caught), copin' a feel in the car, sucking tits, fingering, once again - caught, kinda refused orgasm bc of being caught, dusting of angst, sexual insinuations, oral (f receiving), PnV unprotected sex (WRAP IT UPPPPP), SPANKING, SLAP KINK LIKE A LOT. LIKE - A LOT.
“Victoria… you can’t wear that to church!”
“I can if the hot man I made out with last night is gonna be there!”, She yelled out of the spare bedroom.
“Every woman in town already hates me, if its not because of Brynn - its because of the gossips from church. Seriously, you cant wear that - you ass is hanging out of it.”
“Well its because you’re shorter than me, so on you it looks perfectly presentable - lucky bitch!”
The sound of that familiar F150 filled your opened windows. You snapped your head to the window and then to Victoria, panic filling your eyes.
“HE’S EARLY!”, Victoria screamed.
You began moving frantically, fabric flying through the air as you searched for that perfect dress.
“NO! I TOLD YOU WE ONLY HAD LIKE TWENTY MINUTES!”, you shrieked back.
“EXACTLY!”
“THAT WAS THIRTY MINUTES AGO!”
You stood there in nothing but a baby blue matching lace set - courtesy of Gators money. A little rhinestoned ‘G’ hanging on the edge of the thong where a cutout sits to frame the letter, right above your ass.
Two knocks.
Courtesy for your guest.
“Knock knock, girlies. When I get up there, I better see y’all ready to walk out - cause I'm late, meaning were late!”
Victoria begins closing her door, peeking her head out and silently whispering “Go distract him!”
The door fully shuts and you hear him plop off his church boots, he’s looking for food - you just know it.
You scurry down the steps and sure enough, he is pulling one of the fresh cinnamon rolls you made off of the plate. He hears you before he sees you, his back turned around. Gator takes a big bite, filling his mouth full. He smiles as he is turning because your cooking is his kryptonite and he has been missing it for days, its like he’s tasting Heaven.
And then he sees you.
Suddenly, Heaven was you.
Gator immediately breaks out into a coughing fit at the sight of your tanned skin against the baby blue - you looked like you were glowing.
“Hi, Angel”, he coughed out when he finally swallowed his bite.
“Hi”, you said sheepishly.
He looked good. Too good. Hair loose, white button up with three buttons undone - letting his chest hair free, tight blue jeans. He was mouthwatering.
He sat the cinnamon roll right down on the counter top, and hooked his arm behind your waist - pulling you into him. Your eyes couldn’t help but drop down to the counter, becoming sticky and crumbs sprinkling the surface. And like clockwork, he noticed you, “I’ll clean it up, Mama. Don't worry.”
You tilted your head back up to look at him, and he bit his lip grinning down to you.
“God - you are just gorgeous, you know that?”
He tilted down and captured your lips. He tasted like the pastry, mixed with strawberry from his vape. Your tongue slid across his and he let out a pathetic little moan against you, hands slipping over your ass.
“Happy birthday, sugar.” He mumbled against your lips, both of you smiling into another kiss.
His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your ass, massaging your body and coping a feel in the process. One of his hands rounded to the front of your body, never losing contact with your skin. He ran his fingers up your waist and grabbed ahold of your breast, squeezing harshly - just how you liked it. The plush skin spilled over the edge of the fabric and his mouth nipped away at the softness, your head tilting back in pleasure. The Sunday morning ambiance was filled with soft moans, just loud enough for the other to hear. Intimate. His hand that was still planted on your ass switched to your other cheek, to hold you stable as you fell into the mercy of his hands.
The sound of heels clanking down the wooden steps broke you from the spell, pushing him softly off of you - but not before she saw the whole thing.
“Oh, God. You sure did distract him, didn’t-cha!”
“Good morning, Victoria…”
“Shut up, you said I had rabies in front of the whole bar.”
“Well last year, you told her to shave my hair off in my sleep!”
“Well yer fuckin’ slick back is kinda ugly, hon! Leave that to us pretty girls - you’re not a pretty girl!”
Okay, he looked genuinely hurt.
“Well - I ain't wore it like that in a minute. Been wearin’ it like this lately-”
“Exactly! NOW you look like a pretty girl!”
“Okay, okay. I’m gonna finish getting re-”, you realized no one was listening to you even a little bit so you quickly rushed up the stairs. You could still hear their muffled bickering. Like fucking siblings. So mature.
You quickly pull out a long baby blue dress that hugs all the right places, and you adorn yourself with dainty gold jewelry - accentuating your glow. Its the kind of glow that happens when its your birthday. When you're loved. When you're chosen. Being chosen is a good look on you. It causes your cheeks to wear a natural blush, your eyes glimmer a little more, and your smile - god, your smile. That is the effect of being chosen. Especially being chosen by Gator Tillman.
Your fingers work quickly to decorate your hair with small braids to frame in your face, accenting it with the curls that invite others to stare. You were like a dream. A small bun pulled to the top of your head, letting the rest of the curls cascade over your frame and down your back. There was no competition for bags, you grab ahold of the green faux alligator skin Prada bag and slip on a pair of brown kitten heels.
As loud as an elephant, you come clambering down the stairs. Your two closest humans were still going at it - Victoria yelling at Gator for being messy, and Gator wiping up his mess.
“I said that I’d clean it! I didn’t expect her to clean my mess!”
“Good! Don’t be a little bitch boy!”
“Ain't no bitches here besides you, Vicky.”
“Fuck you - You know I hate that nickname!”
“DO YOU THINK I LIKE LITTLE BITCH BOY?!”
“I DIDN’T CALL YOU THAT! I SAID DON’T BE A LITTLE BITCH BOY!”
“HEY - CUT IT OUT!” , you scream from the bottom of the steps.
Gators mouth dropped, eyes wide as the summer moon, “Oh - God, you look-”
“You look so beautiful!”, Victoria ran over and grabbed you.
“We’re late, right? I don’t wanna cause a scene-”
“Babygirl, the whole towns gonna light up in flames with you looking like that - talkin’ bouta scene.”
“OOOO if she does, maybe I can see Wade in action!”
“WADE? No. No no - I didn’t hear that right, right?”
“Oh yeah, his tongue was so far down my throat that it might count as him eatin’ my ass!”
“Gonna fuckin - shit, gonna puke-”, Gator hastily runs out the front door, you yell at Victoria to hurry up - and more important, to shut up.
The drive to church was quick. Gator sped. The last thing the three of you needed was to make a grand entrance by walking all the way to the front of the church while getting stared down by the whole fucking town, right in the middle of Pastor Thomas’s opening prayer.
Jessica and Maude sat with some of their homeschool co-op friends, leaving more space for the three of you. Victoria planted herself confidently next to Wade, you next to Victoria, and of course, Gator next to you.
And all things considered, you think you guys did a pretty good job considering that the choir was still making their way up the risers and the piano hadn’t started. That, and you only got one dirty look from Roy.
Your thighs were squeezed shut. With both men manspreading, Victoria and you were basically sitting on top of one another. But you didn’t mind being squeezed tight against Gator - hell, if you could sit in his lap and it be acceptable, you would.
Pastor Thomas begins the sermon, something about David and Goliath.
But you were too busy noticing the threads on Gators jeans stretched tight against his meaty thighs, looking perfect enough to ride on. You had to blink yourself back into the moment, catching Gators eye in the process - he knew. Somehow, in his fucked up head, he knew what you wanted. Maybe it was because he wanted it too. Wanted the precious blue lace panties to be rubbing against his rough denim, soaking the light wash into something dark and sticky. Fuck - he didn’t just want it, he needed it. And you knew that too.
And maybe thats why your fingers reach the inside of his thigh.
Slowly swirling the sharp edges of your nails in dainty circles in his inner thigh, causing his eyelids to lull. Your thumb began to apply pressure to the top of his thigh, and Gator started to stir. You could visibly see him getting harder and harder, his breath shattering under your gentle , not-so innocent, touches.
Now neither of you noticed, but you caught the attention of Pastor Thomas. He cleared his throat, stumbling on his words slightly - clearly effected by the soft porn he was watching from the stage. He hid behind the podium. Gator brushed your hand away, giving you a ‘not now… but… definitely later’ look. But that didn’t stop you. Your hand returned back to its spot, wearing into his restraint.
Gator began adjusting in his seat, causing the pew to creak loudly in the quiet auditorium. Out of your peripheral, you could see people looking. But not just any people, Roy Tillman was looking.
You pulled your hand back sharply, causing Gator to winced softly as your nail scratched across his extremely obvious boner. The soft sound from Gator landed on the ears of Victoria and Wade, both who leaned into one another - trying not to laugh. A cough from Roy straightened all of your backs, but the man withheld a smile all at once. It was good seeing Gator and Wade smiling again. Hadn’t seen that sight since they were just boys. It settled something deep inside of Roy, so he turned his attention back to the sermon.
Gator began to nudge your knee with his thigh, eyes desperate for another touch. You looked at him to see if he was sure, and all he could do was slightly buck up his hips - needy boy.
Your hand returned back to his thigh, trailing up to his disparity. When your hand skimmed his boner, Gator let off the smallest whimper. Victoria and Wade instantly began snickering next to you, but then a sharp inhale broke the laughter.
The rest of service was quiet. Long, brutal, and quiet.
The piano rings out a sharp, bright song - issuing everyone along their ways. Lunch plans, quick gossip, and polite hellos are in order.
Your body gets slammed on either side, pressure just up to your ribcage - the girls.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISSY!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY! WAIT ’TIL YA SEE WHAT WE GOT YA!”
Jessica squeezes you tightly, your fingers clutching her thick braid. Maude grabs your hand, and then quickly extends the other to her big brother - who grabs it like second nature.
“Y'all better not spoil a damn thing -”
“DADDY! Gator’s cussin’ again!”, Maude yelled.
Gator snatched his hand back from the snitch with a scowl, but quickly conceded when she bumped out her bottom lip. She let go of your hand to hold his with both, ensuring that he cant let go this time.
“Happy birthday, Darlin’!”, Roy pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head in the process.
Karen quickly grabbed you right after, squeezing you tight - just like Jessica. “Happy birthday, Hon! Were excited your spending the day with us!”
You glance back over to Gator with a smile.
A family.
A real fuckin’ family. And you were a part of it.
Chosen family.
“Hi, I’m Victoria! Glad to formally meet you instead of at a crime scene - church might be more neutral ground.”, you hear your best friend introduce herself with a strong handshake to Roy and immediately pulls Karen in for a hug. Cute.
“Not so sure about that, considering you got into a bar fight last night.”
“Well - yeah, you might be right about that.”
Roy let out a snort before he was ushered away by Pastor Thomas - you could only pray that he wasn’t letting Roy in on the shenanigans during the sermon.
“So - wanna ride with me? Were all going back to the ranch, so-”, Wade mumbles Victorias way.
“Oh, hell yeah!”, she replies eagerly, turning a good amount of heads with her chosen language in the small church lobby.
You feel a tug at your waist, and suddenly, Gator is pulling you out to the parking lot.
“If she’s goin’ with Wade - we have a few minutes-”
You don’t even wait for him to finish his sentence. This time, you’re dragging him behind you towards his truck before piling in. He turns the engine over quickly, peeling out of the parking lot before the old ladies can take their time crossing in front of it.
“Gator - you nearly hit Greta and Lynnette!”
“They came to church to meet God! They get in front of me, might make em meet Him quicker.”
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at the dark joke. He sped down the road, jolting onto the small dirt road that he tends to hide out on during speed traps. Ironic… speeding to your speed trap spot.
But he had one thing on his mind, blue. Baby blue. Baby blue lace. Baby blue lace darkened with your arousal. Baby blue lace darkened with your arousal with his mouth on you.
He slammed the truck into park, and threw himself at you - you had to awkwardly take off your seatbelt in between your bodies, and of course, he didn’t care to wear one.
“Fuckin’ playing with me in church - fuckin’ temptress. You’re supposed to be my little Angel, huh? What happened there, baby?”, he growled against your mouth, his hands wandering.
Your breath shortened as his mouth found your neck, tongue running hot stripes up your skin. Mechanically, your body arched up into him. One of his hands makes its way to grab at your tit, just like this morning. His hand massaging your soft flesh, putty in his hands. His other hand yanked up your dress to lay on your thighs.
He disconnected his mouth from your neck and pulled the small straps of your dress down, yanking your bra strap with them, before pulling the top down completely. His mouth attached itself to one of your nipples, hardening quick as he pulled it between his teeth. Suddenly, his other hand swooped in between your legs and found that hot, wet spot you had kept hidden.
“Mmmmm, Fuuu-”, he stuffed his mouth with your other nipple as he started circling your clit.
“Shit, Gator! Oh god, baby!”, you squealed out in response.
“Feels good, mama?”
“Fuck yes. Don’t stop - holy shit, fuck!”
“You’re already close, aren’t ya, birthday girl?”
“Oh my g- fuck fuck fuck Gator!”
Just as your climax starts to spill, the sound of a familiar truck rolls up - your eyes flying open, pulling your from your high.
“Fuckin-”, Gator yanks your dress back up and also back down.
Thats when you lock eyes with none other than Wade Tillman.
With Victoria.
Sittin’ right on top of him.
With her dress half off.
“FUCK!” You hear him yell from across the road.
Gator whips around, covering you completely. He squints out the window and quickly looks away when he sees Victoria fumbling with the straps of her dress, tumbling off of Wade.
“OH YOU’VE GOTTA BE FUCKIN’ LYIN’”, Gators hand smashed against the steering wheel, making the horn blare. “Fuck. FUCK. FUCK YOU.”
Victoria and you lock eyes, and pull your head back tight to your chest - triple chins on full display trying to stop the laughter… but one more scream from Gator causes you both to lose it. Laughter fills both of the cabs as yours gets muffled by the sound of Gator turning the truck back on. Jaw so tight it could cut a bitch, eyes locked on anything thats in front of him.
Fuck, you couldn’t help but giggle.
“Think that’s funny?”, he squeals his tires back onto the main road, ripping dust everywhere, “I’ll show you something funny, sweet girl - don’t you worry.”
“Oh, Gator bug - lighten up, it was funny!”
“I ain't tryna sound like I'm only with ya for sex, cause fuck knows I proved I'm not - but damn, I want ya bad baby. I’m not jokin’ round.”
“I want you too, Gate.”
“Prove it.”
You smiled, what does he expect you to do?
“How?”
“Let me come home.”
There it was. That softness. The softness reserved for you. His jaw softened, his knuckles started gaining pigment again after gripping the steering wheel for dear life, his pupils blown.
“I miss you. I miss geico. Hell, I miss Luna. I miss our bed. I miss waking up next to you. I miss your cookin’ and just… shit, just bein’ near ya. Like, it’s killin’ me.”
“I’ve missed you too, baby.”
He glanced over at you before making the turn into the ranch, a smile trying not to come out.
“So - does that mean…”
“Come home.”
A smirk. A smirk that grew into a smile. A smile that grew into a grown man turning pink with joy - you loved his shade of pink.
The truck came to a stop right outside of Gator’s barn. Karens Tahoe was already back from church, and Roys old Chevy was still clicking from the engine cooling. You could hear gravel wearing behind you, Wade and Victoria.
But there was another truck, little ford ranger - actually, it almost looks like…
“SID!”
You barrel out of the truck in excitement as you see your friend wearing the girliest dress you’d ever seen her in. Like full on poofy sleeves, checkered, and she was wearing dainty white gloves.
“What in the world is all this about, huh?”, You laugh as you give her a hug.
“Well aren’t us girls havin’ a-”
“MMMM- nope!” Gator cut her off, motioning you to head into his apartment. He whistles out to Wade, who sends Victoria on her way over to you as well.
“Whats going on?”, Victoria asks.
“I have no clue…”
“Got a surprise for you upstairs.”, Gator whispered with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen… oh, he had a whole plan.
The two of you set off upstairs, opening up the apartment to see two fluffy dresses laid out on the bed. Pear necklaces, dainty gloves, and one little tiara - perfect for the birthday girl.
“What-”
“Oh my god!”, Victoria squealed, looking out the side window.
You rush over with her to see Karen finishing up final touches with the twins… they were all wearing poofy dresses too. The long wooden table that sits outside was adorned with different delicate fabrics, laces and satins. Bright pinks, yellows, and baby blues. Tall green candles lined the middle, and in between each candle was a decorative tiered tray filled with small finger sandwiches and teacakes. The string of lights that hangs above the table was wrapped with vines and flowers swooped down.
“IS THAT A PICNIC!”
“NO NO NO, VICTORIA - THIS IS A TEA PARTY!”
You both start screaming as you rush over to the bed, stripping yourselves of your Sunday best and leaving them in heaps on the floor. You drape the layered pink dress over your body, lace grazing your skin. Victoria helps button you in, and then turns for you to return the favor for her green fluffy gown. If there was one thing you loved about growing up, it was always the fashion shows. The try on hauls. The parading around in ridiculous attire for the hell of it - and of course, Gator knows that.
The two of you finished up with your looks, touching up your makeup in the bathroom with the little cosmetic bag that Gator keeps stocked for you.
“I can’t believe he planned you a tea party.”
“I can’t believe he loves me that much…”
Victoria stopped mid lipliner swipe and grabbed ahold of your hand.
“You deserve him. I know I get on him, but thats my job. I gotta play your mama, daddy, big brother, and sister combined. I love him for you. He’s good for you.”
A soft smile is shared between the two of you, and she gives you one last squeeze before finishing her makeup touchups. She sat the tiara on your head, following it with a curtsy.
You both make your way down the stairs where you find the boys waiting on you, Sid was there too… right next to…
“Charlie!”
You ran up and gave him a quick hug, causing the group to laugh at your dress bouncing around. Twirling away from Charlie, you look up at Gator - he stood there shaking his head softy, eyes locked on you, smile wide.
“You look like a princess.” He whispered to you, a bit shy in front of everyone.
“I FEEL like a princess!”
“Well, we all know you are one”, Sid jabbed a finger into your side.
Gator cleared his throat and straightened his back, offering you his arm. Chin held high, eyes glancing down at you, his smirk filled with amusement. He liked this too.
You slip your arm into his as he guides you through the yard, the train from your dress flowing behind you. Turning back, you see Charlie follow suit and then soon after, Wade joins in. The men led you towards the back, where the table was all set up. Karen’s eyes lit up when she saw you, her dress yellow gingham. The girls were running around chasing each other, blue and purple pastels flying in the wind.
“Well don’t you look like a fairytale!”, she exclaimed, causing the girls to pause their running and look at you.
“Wow.”, you hear them whisper in unison.
“I think they love you.”, Gator whispers into your ear.
“The feeling is mutual.”, you whisper back, causing him to smile.
Roy steps out onto the back deck, smile growing wide, “Well now, ain't that a sight! Next time you look this pretty, gonna be walkin’ down the aisle.”
“Oh God.”, Gator grumbles.
You squeeze his arm, signaling for him not to get mouthy. See… Gator hasn’t learned yet, but somehow you have. Roy is always gonna cross a line, and its better if you keep your mouth shut - otherwise, it becomes a bigger deal.
“Thank you, Sheriff”, music begins swelling in the background, familiar instrumentals. You recognize it almost immediately, its the bridgerton soundtrack.
“Hey - this is-”, you start, but Gator cuts you off.
“That smutty time piece show you watch, yeah - figured it set a mood for ya."
The group begins to wander around, men dropping off ladies at the table. You lean into Gator.
“And what kinda mood are you tryna set for me, hmm? Smutty time piece?”
“Nah, nothing like that - come on-”, he flushed, “I don’t know what kinda music goes well with this shit, but I figured it wasn’t yer Britney Spears or Nelly girl kinda music - but hey, I think theres some Taylor swift in there somewhere.”
“Right… no, seriously all of this is great, baby. I don’t know why you’re so good to me-”
He pulled you to his chest and looked down at you, with those big hazel doe-eyes. The softest smile crept up on his face.
“Because I love ya, mama. Best thing in my whole life. Gonna give you the life you deserve, promise you that.”
Your heart twisted at his words, and suddenly, you could picture what Roy saw.
The backyard, decorated with flowers and candles - linens, silks, lace. Sunlight breezing through your hair, and shining into his eyes - greens and gold ablaze. His hands holding yours, fingertips skimming over the gold wrapped delicately around the base of your finger. The whole thing. Marriage and kids. A life. A life with Gator.
Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop it, you’d never wanted something so bad. You blink them away, and Gator lowers himself to check on you - you cant hear what he’s saying, you’re too busy just… imagining that life. How badly you want it.
“Baby? Whadd-I do?”
“No, nothing - promise, happy tears”, you brush his cheek with the back of your hand in adoration, “I just love you.”
Gator rarely smiled with his teeth, but he let it slide this time for you.
“Yeah? Well, I love you too, babygirl”, he stepped back with his hands intertwined in yours, “Now c’mon, enjoy your little tea party with the girlies, huh?”
He led you over to the table and you took your seat at the head of the table, in Roys chair. On either side of you, the twins - getting as close to you as possible. Victoria and Karen sat next to one another after Jessica, and Sid on the other side of Maude. Gator wrapped his bicep around your body, resting on your chest. He took a deep breath in of your vanilla cashmere perfume and kissed your cheek, mumbling one little crude joke about your tits from this angle.
Ahh… there he is.
You huff out a disbelieving laugh as he pulled back, sliding his fingers against your cleavage.
“Alight, ladies. Have fun… and if you need us boys… don’t. We’re goin’ shootin’.”
The four of you women all erupted in laughter at Gator, because of course.
“So, this whole thing we to keep us from botherin’ ya for the afternoon - that right?”
“Awwww… baby, don’t say it like that!” He sent you a wink, and turned - jogging back up to the guys who loaded into Roys truck to take them to one of the little ranges they had set up in a different part of the property - where they wouldn’t bother you girls too bad.
Karen said grace, and prayed over you and a fruitful year - blessing your relationship with Gator and how it brought you into their lives. Victoria may have teared up.
Fine china dishes scattered around, all unique and colorful.
“I finally went down to that store you always go to, that Lucky Mondays place - but I ran straight to the dishes. Thats where I got these! Gator said you’d want me to thrift it all.”
“He is right! This is gorgeous, you couldn’t get this quality and beauty from a Walmart.”
“Now… that is true. I actually found a little wicker basket for when I bring in all the veggies from the garden too. Thrifting ain’t too bad!”
“We should go sometime, Karen!”
“Oh - well… I’m not gonna be shoppin’ in the used clothes. Never know who wore ‘em or how gross they were.”
Victoria intersects, “Do you own a washer?”
Karen looks up at her, you clear your throat.
“Of course she does, V! Just some people have different opinions, and thats good right? Boring world if we all thought the same.”, you attempt to say, trying to shove the pastry you’re eating all into one cheek.
“I think unicorns are real!”, Maude screams out, making you all laugh.
Sid clears her throat, sipping on some tea, “They are! I saw one on the mountain during a patrol last year!”
Karen shot her a look, she didn’t like lying to the girls - but as you laughed, she lightened up. The girls eyes got big and they looked at you.
“Can we go braid Dolly’s hair after the tea party?”
“Well, I don’t see why not!”, you reply, causing them to squeal in excitement.
The party continues as warm violin and pianos echo into the yard, laughter tied together with the ambiance. A perfect day.
A few hours go by and the rumbling of the old Chevy rings through the conversations, the men are back. The sun is casting directly onto the group as they make their way back over to the long wooden table. He looked golden. Sun-kissed and tanned - his biceps prominent in the muscle tank that wrapped his chest. He must have changed or something, because shit… if he looked like that walkin’ away? You might’ve found a reason to excuse yourself from your own party.
But whats stopping you now?
“Hey girlies”, he called out, eyes locked on you with a smile.
He motioned for you to come over to him, and you allow yourself to escape.
“Alright, I'm stealing the birthday girl-”
“NO! We gotta go braid Dolly’s mane!”
“YEAH, YOU PROMISED!”
You look back to him with a pitiful pout, “I did say I would…”
Gator rolled his eyes, “Alright… well - that gives me time to shower… for… ya know…”, he starts tugging you near him by your waist.
“Son”, Roy said sternly, nodding to the girls who watched Gators every move like he was their hero.
Gator cleared his throat and let go of you, nodding you off to the girls who were already running up to grab your hands. Victoria and Sid offered to help Karen clean up, and the three of them stayed behind as the girls dragged you off into the horse barn.
Roy followed behind with a gathered bouquet of flowers that was previously scattered across the table.
“Dolly girl! We’re here!”
“Gonna make you look as pretty as us!”
The twins ran to her stall as he began poking her head through the top of the half door. Her beautiful white spotted coat looked nearly iridescent in the sunlight peaking through the boards. Mane with peppered colors, begging to be decorated. You begin to brush, gentle and slow - cooing at the majestic creature. She chuffed in agreement to your compliments, a confident girl. Your fingers began working the mane into different sized braids, reminding the girls how to do different styles. They stood on upside down buckets, just barely able to reach - but enough to still enjoy it. Once the braids were worked in, Roy came up behind the three of you and handed you each flowers.
“Oh, daddy these are perfect!”
“Wow, Sheriff - you’ve come a long way from rolling your eyes about making her so girly. Almost proud of you.”
He huffed out a laugh, but the smile was there.
“Well, you’ve certainly been able to give her more attention than me these days… in fact, its got me thinking…”
You turn your head to watch him, he looks around and then settles his eyes back on you.
“You want her? Could keep her here ’til Gator can get ya a barn up.”
The breath escaped your lungs, eyes wide.
“You wanna give me Dolly?”, your head shakes in disbelief.
His smile cracked wider, “I mean - she loves you, you love her. Plus, it would give me an excuse to drop the girls off with you and Gator every once in a while. Ya need to start babysittin’ them - be good practice for ya both.”
Ignoring the second part of that comment, you reply, “I’ll take her.”
You wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze him with a hug, he reciprocates in a bit of surprise. Your daddy never really had money, and shit, your mama sure didn’t - this felt like you were one of those rich girls asking their daddy for a pony. You got one. A father figure, and a horse.
The flowers twisted into her mane, bright oranges, pinks, and reds - she looked like the sunset that was making its way down the North Dakota skyline. And she was yours.
As you and the girls made your way out of the barn, Roy staying behind, you saw Sid walking towards you with a smile.
“Hey - were gonna head out, birthday girl!”, Sid came and gave you a hug, Charlie right behind her.
“Bye guys! Thank you for being here!”
Lightning bugs started filling the air, causing the girls to run off and chase them. You take a quick look around and notice Victoria is nowhere to be found. Wade. You just know it. A soft laugh leaves your body before you head to the entrance of Gator’s apartment, praying that you’re not about to walk in on your best friend and your boyfriends cousin.
But what you hear is completely different, you hear Gator - seemingly talking to himself.
You knock on the door, ever so slightly, before cracking it open to see him standing there about to open the door.
“Hi baby!”
“Hi - whatcha doing?”
“I - uh - well…”, he rubbed the back of his neck.
He had been practicing on how to give you your present. So fucking cute.
He was shirtless and freshly showered. He smelled like the eucalyptus body wash you bought for him. Water lingered in his chest hair, reflecting brightly in the sun.
“I - so… you - do you want your present?”
Your eyes lit up and you swear you might’ve accidentally jumped a little in excitement.
“Yes! Yes! You’ve hyped it up enough!”
“Okay, okay. Go sit down.”
You shoot him a confused look, but obey. The pink dress fans out across the mattress as you kick off your heels and kneel in the center of the bed.
“Close yer eyes.”
“Oh god. Gator this IS a dick joke!”
“NO, IT IS NOT - STOP IT!”, He said with a laugh.
You close your eyes, smiling ear to ear.
“Put out yer hands, baby.”
You do.
A box gets sat in your hands. Approximately 5 pounds. Square. It’s definitely shoes.
“Can I open them?”
“Yeah, baby - go ‘head.”
You open your eyes to see pink wrapping paper, wrapped… just pitifully - but that’s not the point. A big red bow was stuck in the middle of it. Gator smiling from ear to ear, arms pressing into the mattress still standing at the end of the bed.
Like any rational person would, you rip open the paper - and you reveal that box.
“GATOR.”
“Surprise.”
“NO WAY. YOU DIDN’T.”
Heart? In your ass.
You held in your hands none other than a Christian Louboutin box. You never spent big money on shoes. Bags? Different story. Shoes, however, you always felt guilty for spending too much on them. Someone could step on them and scuff them, you could trip and ruin the leather, you could step in gum or something - millions of misfortunes could happen to shoes.
But he knew that. He knew you. And thats why he paid for them.
You lift the top of the box and expose the cutest pair of open toed kitten heels, leopard print, with the classic red bottoms.
“This isn’t real.”
“It better be fucking real, gotten shipped from fuckin’ Paris!”
“No, no - no”, You laughed, “They’re real. I’m just like… this is real. I’m just in shock that you really did this for me.”
Fingers tracing down the stiletto, “Holy shit. Gator, they’re perfect.”
You reached up, tossing the box to the side and pulled his face to yours. His lips met yours with a soft passion, the kind you have when you just know.
He deepened the kiss as he crawls onto the bed, pushing you backwards - your arm brushing around the bed blind trying to get the box out of his way so he doesn’t crush it. Gator moans into your mouth as you finally fall back flat against the mattress, his mouth following your every move.
You just now noticed that he had put on the Etta James album, playing it over his cheap speaker - it’s one of your favorite vinyls at home. He hummed the tune into your mouth - low and deep, tongue forcing the music into your own mouth as he treasured you. As his mouth moved against your own, there were times where his mouth would miss you just ever so slightly - and when he did, his humming would reverberate into the room sounding like devotion. His hands travelled over your body tender, but intentional. Needy, but aware of how badly he wanted to savor this moment.
And you were just as generous with your love and attention, your nails running gently over his arms - curving into his biceps and forearms. You’d slide them back up and rake your fingernails into the nape of his neck, twirling his growing curls around your fingers. Teasing him just a bit, you’d tug just a bit… just enough to make him make that face. Oh, that face. His eyebrows scrunch together and his eyes squeeze tight, pairing it perfectly with the moan of your name upon his lips.
Love.
There was no other word for it.
Gator began to travel his hands across the length of your body, touching anything and everything in reach. He wanted all of you. Every square inch of your body deserved his attention in his eyes. His breathing was getting heavier, breath pushed out onto your skin like steam he had to let off or else he’d combust.
He was already trembling with need, “Baby-”
“I know. I’m here.”, you whisper into his hair, as he travels down your body.
His hands reach the hem of the dress and he takes the fabric into his fist, his eyes glancing up at you for the go ahead - and you reply with a soft whine, desperate for him in every way.
Gator opens the bottom of your dress and crawls inside, laying the fabric back on top of him. Your eyes widen at the loss of sight of him, unsure of what he is about to - ohhhh god!
His tongue takes a wide swipe right over your soaked panties, sucking the fabric in to suck on your gathered juices. Some form of his name spilled out of your mouth, and though you couldn’t see - his eyes rolled into the back of his head because of it. His hips grind down onto the mattress trying to get any ounce of relief for himself. You feel his hands trail over your thighs, massaging them deeply as they grab ahold of your panties and slide them down your legs - Gator working them off your feet, kissing your soles and nipping at your toes in the process. Returning to your soaking pussy right after. One finger slides in as his tongue keeps flicking onto your clit, moving it in and out painfully slow.
“Baby, I need more…”, you whine to your boyfriend.
“Mmm gettin’ there, princess - trust me.”
His tongue slid in you deep, finger still moving in and out. Gator began to move at the opposite rhythm of his finger, never letting you have a breather. Your thighs start to twitch and one hand holds one thigh, and he pushes a knee into the other - wide open for him.
You can feel him smiling against your skin, a huff of a laugh as his hair tickles the sides of your thighs.
“Mine… all mine-” he began kitten licking at your clit, softly, “My girl, my love, my future wife - I swear to God.”
“Gator-”, you whimpered at his words.
“I remember when I first saw you…”, he nipped at your thigh, “Felt like a fuckin’ idiot - grinned the whole way to the gas station after meeting you. Sat in my car for an hour trying to figure out how to see ya again.”
You let out a small laugh which twisted into another moan as he entered in a second finger, pumping it slow and deep.
“Felt like a creep driving through town lookin’ for your damn car”, he pulled himself out of the skirt of your dress, bunching the fabric up on your stomach, “Swear I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found ya, right down the road from the ranch.”
“Gator, baby - keep goin’… multitask, baby.”
“Sorry”, he started circling your clit with his thumb, toying with your juices with a smile on his face. It almost made you embarrassed, you were so exposed for him.
He looked up at you with those eyes, big and vulnerable, “All those years, and I been yours since that night.”
All the slow, deep, loving touches - words like syrup on your skin… it was all becoming so much. You could feel yourself getting close, and of course - he could tell.
“My perfect Angel. My everything, swear to everything holy.”
Your back arched, one of your feet came up and planted itself on he shoulder blade - pushing him down to finish what he started. He went willingly.
His mouth reattached itself to your cunt, sucking harshly in comparison to the sweetness from earlier. Your orgasm was abrupt, heavy - you came with a scream of his name. Your thighs shook, legs twitching, toes curled. As you writhed around, Gator kept his tongue on you - anywhere he had access to. It was becoming too much - so with the same foot, you hooked it onto his forehead and shoved him back.
Oh.
Oh, he loved that.
The guard dogs teeth came out, biting down on your heel as you gasped sharply. His tongue laid flat on your sole, licking upwards towards your toes. He grabbed your foot, massaging it - causing you to groan. He was almost too good at massages. But then he grabbed the other foot, adding it to the mix. His hands worked at any tension you had, no stress on his girls feet on his watch. He dropped one foot to lay on his chest as he reach for the box.
The Louboutins.
He took one out, slipping it on your foot with ease - you gasped at the perfection of the shoes. He did such a perfect job.
He then switched to the other foot, adding the heel on this one as well.
You bent a knee, twirling your ankle around to see just how amazing they were on. His hand wrapped around your ankle mid-air, sprinkling kisses all over your foot and the shoe combined. But then he stuck out his tongue.
Gator swiped his tongue down the stilettoed heel, all the way down to the sole. Your mouth hung wide in lust.
He dropped your feet, plopping them onto the mattress. Gator reached up and pulled your hips, sliding you down the bed toward the end.
He turned around and sat on the edge, and patted his lap.
“C’mere.”
You crawled over to him, and he twisted you sharply - laying you across his lap, belly down.
He tugged the back of your dress up to pool on your back, exposing your bare ass to him.
“What ar-”
“Shhhh. Every birthday girl needs her birthday spankin’s right, honey?”
“Gator! Don’t you d-”
*SMACK*
You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyebrows scrunched together - did he really just do that?
“One.”
“GATOR!”
His hand softly brushed your ass where he just touched you, before coming down again.
*SMACK*
“SHIT!”
“Two.”
You began to wiggle, trying to get out of his lap.
“We got a long way until 27, baby. Y’ain’t goin’ nowhere anytime soon - settle back down fer me.”
*SMACK*
“Three.”
“Fuck - Gator, P-Please”
*SMACK*
“Four.”
*SMACK*
“Five”
“Oh my god - Gator baby!”
“See, I knew you’d come around, sugar.”
*SMACK*
“Six.”
“Oh, fuck yes, baby-”
“Ohhhh, good fucking girl-”
*SMACK*
“Seven.”
“Yeah, come on baby - hurt me”
Gator’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew you were liking this… but… how much were you liking it exactly?
*SMACK*
“Eight. Ya like that, babygirl?”
“I l-love it.”
*SMACK*
“Nine.”
“Gator?”
“Hm?”
“Do-.. Nevermind-”
“No, no… baby, tell me”, he pulled your chin to look at him, “You need me to stop?”
“Fuck no. Please don’t.”
“Then tell me-”
“Can - Do you think you can… smack me other places too?”
Gator pulled back slightly, confusion and fear filled his face - he never wanted to hurt you, he didn’t care if you wanted it or not. That wasn’t him.
“Like… where?”
“My-… my pussy? Maybe my tits?”
Oh… oh yeah he could work with that.
He flipped you onto your back, and pulled your top down - exposing your tits, ripping the fabric in the movement. If you weren’t so horny, you might’ve been mad.
With one swift motion, his hand came down on your tit-
*SMACK*
“Ten”
Immediately causing your nipple to perk up. You hissed at the sensitivity, but it was a primal feeling… and you needed it again. He dropped his hand down to your other breast, giving it attention as well.
*SMACK*
“Eleven.”
Twelve and thirteen. Fourteen and fifteen.
Your tits had goose bumps raised where his hand had been.
He threw your dress back up, letting it rest on your belly - not giving you any time to prepare as his hand landed sharply on your pussy.
*SMACK*
“Sixteen”
A ripping cry rang from your throat, your back arched on his thighs. You clutched ahold on his belt for support.
“Fuck, baby - so fuckin’ good for me.”
*SMACK*
“Seventeen. Ten more, princess - gimme ten more.”
Without even meaning to, you had began subconsciously undoing his belt. Your fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans. He popped it open for you, it was almost about to pop open anyways - his cock was pressed up against it.
Giving him no time to protest, you pushed him backwards - crawling onto his lap, your pussy sliding right over his cock. Your juices soaked him, making him tremble just at the simple touch.
“F-Fuck baby, so fuckin’ wet”
Your core rocked against his cock, your clit dragging right over the tip - causing your body to shudder.
“C’mon, mama, use me - just like that.”
You got a few more hips rolls in before Gator began bucking upwards towards you, a panting mess below you. With precision, you lifted your body and leaned forward - capturing his lips to yours. He let out a hot breath into you, shaking with need. But you knew that. So while your tongue ran over his, entailing his mind with the taste of you - you shifted, sitting right down and slotting his thick cock inside of you.
Gator groaned shakily into your mouth, one hand finding your face and the other your waist. With all of the build up, a whole week of miscommunications, desperate and needy for one another? You were soaked to the point where it took nearly no effort to fit him in, even with it only ever being your third time. Him, made for you - and you for him.
You rocked your hips against him, breaking the kiss and lifting your torso back up - dress pooling around the sides of his hips. With your tits exposed, Gator leaned up and captured your nipple in his mouth with a load moan of what sounded like a painful exertion of your name. The hand on your waist made its way to your ass - gripping it tightly as he helped you bounce down on his throbbing cock.
*SMACK*
“Eighteen”
“FUCK GATOR!”
His mouth popped off your tit, and he raised his hand - coming down on the spit soaked skin.
*SMACK*
“Nineteen.”
You were already close to your second orgasm, it was building faster than the first - and he could tell. Gators hand slipped down, coming over your clit and rubbing it fast as you fucked yourself down onto him.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck GATOR!”
*SMACK*
“Twenty.”
His hand had popped onto your pussy, reaching back - he repeated the action.
*SMACK*
“Twenty-one”
Your orgasm crashed over you, going limp on top of him. Legs trembling, and tears began to fall from your eyes - you were entirely fucked out. He bucked up into you, causing a throaty moan to rip out from your mouth and a smile slipped onto your face.
And then you laughed.
Tears flowing down your cheeks, dripping onto your tits - and you were laughing.
So… he didn’t stop.
Gator pulled himself up to you, chest to chest and wrapped a heavy arm around you. To him, you were weightless. With all the training he does? This was a breeze. Gator picked up your body with one arm and fucked himself into you as if you were his own personal toy. You head tilted back in ecstasy and the laughing continued - squealing even. His hand came down on your ass.
*SMACK*
“Twenty-two.”
“C’MON - FUCK ME GATOR!”
“Fuck baby!”
*SMACK*
“FUCK - Twenty-t… three!”
He was entirely too close, and he still had four more.
“Fuck - baby, I- shit, I’m about to cum- I cant-”, he groaned into your neck, biting softly, still fucking up into you.
“Finish them.”
He pulled himself out of your neck, tilting your neck back up to look into your eyes - he saw your pupils blown, and you were fucking drooling.
“If you don’t finish them, I will.”, you grab his jaw, “On you.”
Gator leaned in, chasing after your lips, which you denied.
“Plea-”
*SMACK*
Your hand went across his face before he could finish, softly - you didn’t want to hurt him.
“Twenty-four.”, you whispered.
“Harder.”
You obeyed.
*SMACK*
“Twenty-five.”
He began shaking, hips faltering - he was close. You began to slam yourself back down onto him, reenergized from the rest he gave you when he took over.
Your hand stung, but it didn’t stop you.
*SMACK*
“Twenty-six.”
“Fuck- Fuckfuckfuck baby - Fuck I’m cu-”
*SMACK*
“SHIT, YES MAMA!”
He came with a loud cry, a tear slipping down his own cheek - he squeezed your body tight against him to the point it started hurting your tits. He was desperate to be as close to you as possible as he came down from his high.
“Twenty-seven.” You whisper against the shell of his ear.
He falls backwards onto the mattress, pulling you with him.
You laid like that for a minute or two, but the sweat of your bodies and the dress that stuck to your skin was becoming overwhelming. With ease, after he ripped the seam - you pull the dress up and off of you. Gator was still inside of you, softening slightly - wincing at your every move.
“I’m gonna get up, Gator bug.”
He nods quickly, face already contorted in pain of leaving your warmth.
As you pulled off, warm liquid flushed down your legs and onto his waist. You grab the already ruined dress and use it to wipe the two of you off - just like he showed you. Gator was still shaking, ever so slightly.
“You okay, baby?”
He sat still for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“Why the fuck did I like that so much… A guy hits me on the job and I lay him out. You hit me and ya had me fuckin’ beggin’ for more… shit - for more and harder too.”
A laugh escapes you without you meaning for it to. Your big bad deputy… oh, no - gotta get used to that… your big bad Chief, completely fucked out for you.
“It’s cause you love me.”, you teased, standing to your feet.
“You don’t have a fuckin’ clue how m-… fuck, mama.” He looked up at you.
Standing there in nothing but those leopard print red-bottoms, your tiara slightly tilted from the roughhousing.
His head tilted like a dog watching his bone.
You laughed at your boyfriend, turning around to head to the bathroom to freshen up.
And that’s when you heard him yelp, “FUCKIN’ HELL!”
You spun back around, scared maybe he tried to get up and got a cramp or something - but no. Gator was pushed up onto his elbows, and eyes as wide as the moon. He had his right hand palm facing up, and mouth hanging opened.
“Whats wrong, baby?! What happened?!”
“LOOK AT YER ASS!”
You ran over to the full length mirror that you made him buy years ago, and sure enough - there is was.
A big ol’ handprint.
The skin was raised perfectly in the shape of Gator big hand, could even see some of the creases on his fingers.
“Guess ya got two pairs of red-bottoms, baby.”
The joke was unfortunately perfect, ripping a laugh out of you - which caused him to join in. He raised himself from the bed and crossed the apartment to where you stood. His fingertips ran across the sore mark on your ass, and he whispered a small apology to you before bringing your mouth to his.
Once you both were changed, you made good on your promise.
He was coming home tonight.
Gator was eager to get out of the apartment, dragging you right along with him.
“Wait - I really need to make sure Victoria is good… no hate to Wade - but-”
“Alright, wanna sit in the truck and I’ll go snoop around?”
“Sure, baby - my legs are like fuckin’ jelly.”
He helped you climb into the truck, telling you to lock it for precaution. Gator then turned and made his way into the dark - heading down to some of the other barns close by. Close enough to be safe, but far enough where they could let off some moans without the whole ranch hearin’.
Gator went by the first one, and sure enough…
He could hear Wade huffing and the sound of skin on skin - the noise made him want to crawl in a hole and die.
Wades voice was too loud and too clear, “C’mon, Sparky. Keep squeezin’ me like that- fuck yes!”.
Seconds later, a high pitched moan rings through the barn - Gator felt his dinner start coming up. He rapped his fist on the door of the barn, quick and efficient, “Apartments open. We didn’t clean up well though.”
He ran all the way back to the truck, not sticking around for another second. It wasn’t until he saw you asleep in the passenger seat that the nausea went away.
His Angel.
His girl.
His future wife.
He just knew it.
The drive back to your house took longer than usual, he didn’t want to risk waking you up. He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well, and that he would do anything to make sure you got just a little bit more on his watch.
Pulling into your driveway, gravel crunched under the tires - you began to stir. Eyelashes fluttering open, you look over to your man - and he just had the dopiest smile watching you.
“C’mon baby, let’s get to bed.”
Gator hopped out of the truck and rounded the front, opening your door and then helping you out. The two of you made your way up to the porch, and Gator fumbled with his keys to find the house key.
But something caught your eye.
In the slot between the screen door and the door frame, sat some folded up money.
$27 to be exact.
__________________________________
a/n 💌 HOLY YUMMY. this was I think??? my longest chapter yet. I am so proud of this one, guys. please note that your feedback means the world to me - sleepless nights, scribbling stuff down in my notes app while im cleaning a house for a client, early mornings and late nights, the hate I get... man, its all worth it when a chapter comes together and im able to share it with you. I love you guys so much. We ARE officially working on merch - im so excited. we are also almost at 700 followers which is CRAZY to me. I cannot thank you guys enough for being with me on this ride and for everything you do for me.
You woke up feeling like you hadn't slept at all. For a few seconds, you just stared at the ceiling, disoriented before everything came back at once. The little bunny keychain was still sitting next to you on the bed, so you carefully tucked it away where you had found it and closed the drawer again. You finally got up and cursed. “Fuck.”
You had no clean clothes, so you pulled yesterday's clothes back on, fixed yourself as best you could in the bathroom mirror and decided you'd go home during your lunch break to shower and change properly. When you finally opened the bedroom door, the apartment was quiet, Ben was still asleep on the couch. One arm was thrown over his face while the blanket had half fallen onto the floor, his cast resting awkwardly against his chest.
You stood there for a moment, then quietly walked toward the kitchen and started making breakfast. Nothing too fancy, some coffee, eggs and toasts, whatever you could find easily without opening every cabinet in the apartment.
By the time everything was almost ready, you heard movement behind you. A rustle of the blanket, then a quiet groan. You turned as Ben slowly sat up. He looked terrible, his hair was completely wrecked, eyes still swollen from crying and his face looked exhausted in a way that sleep clearly hadn't fixed. “Morning.” His voice was rough.
“Morning Ben.” He rubbed both hands over his face as you turned back toward the stove. “I made breakfast.” He looked toward the counter.
“You didn't have to.”
“I know.” There was a tiny pause, as if he was trying to know if he was still dreaming or not.
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later, you placed a plate in front of him as he sat at the counter. You took the seat beside him, but neither of you looked at the other. The apartment filled with the quiet sound of forks against plates and coffee cups being set down.
Eventually, Ben cleared his throat. “I'll drive you to work.” You looked toward him.
“You sure ?”
“Yeah.” He took another sip of coffee. “You still don't have your car.”
“Right.” Silence settled once again, then, you remembered. “What time are you getting your cast off ?” Ben glanced down at his arm.
“Late afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“You'll feel better once it's gone.”
“Hopefully.” Neither of you said anything else after that.
The drive to the station was just as quiet. No nervous laughter this time and no more questions. When Ben finally pulled up outside the station, he left the engine running as you unbuckled your seatbelt.
“Thanks Ben.” He looked toward you. “For everything, for driving me and for last night.” Ben nodded.
“Thanks for staying with me.” You gave him a small smile. He looked down at his hands for a few seconds, then back at you. “I don't know what I want yet.” Your smile faded slightly.
“What do you mean ?”
“With you. I don't know if I wanna keep talking to you or if that's gonna make everything worse.”
“I understand.”
“I just…” He shook his head. “I need to figure it out.”
“That's okay.” You reached for the door handle. “I'll leave you alone.” Ben stared at you.
“Thanks.” You started to open the door when you heard his voice again. “Hey.” You stopped and turned your head. His eyes were glassy again, twisting the knife still in your chest. “Thanks for this morning.” You frowned slightly.
“For breakfast ?” Ben gave a tiny, broken smile.
“No.” His voice softened. “For giving me a glimpse of what it would've been like to have a life with you.” Your throat closed and your mouth opened. You had no idea what to say, nothing felt right, so you just nodded.
“Ben…” He shook his head.
“It's okay.” You swallowed, gave him a tiny smile and stepped out of the car. You leaned down slightly before closing the door.
“Thank you.” Ben looked at you one last time.
“Bye, bunny.” Your heart dropped as you quietly closed the door and watched the Charger pull away.
The station was already busy when you walked inside. You instinctively looked toward Gator's office, but it was empty. For a second, you frowned, then you remembered he had a campaign meeting this morning. He mentioned it earlier in the week, some important meeting with people involved in the election, the kind he absolutely couldn't miss.
You dropped your bag beside your desk and sat down. Maybe it was better this way, you weren't sure you were ready to see him yet, not after last night. Ben’s words kept replaying in your mind, and you closed your eyes briefly. Fuck, you needed coffee and about twelve consecutive hours where nobody spoke to you. Unfortunately, you got neither.
The morning dragged and every time the station doors opened, your head lifted automatically. Every time it wasn't Gator. By eleven-thirty, you almost managed to stop checking when this time, he actually walked in, and Jesus Christ, he looked awful. Somehow worse than he had when you left him at the hotel. His suit was slightly rumpled, his tie had been loosened enough to look inappropriate for whatever important meeting he had just come from and his hair looked like he'd spent half the morning running his hands through it.
And his face, exhausted, eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them. You wondered if he had slept at all. Probably not.
His eyes found you immediately and you looked back down at your computer. You heard him exchange a few words with one of the deputies before his footsteps got closer. You kept typing when his shadow fell across your desk. “Hey.” You continued staring at the screen.
“Hey.” You could feel him looking at you.
“How are you ?” You almost laughed.
“Working.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why'd you ask ?” You snapped, and Gator went quiet. You clicked into another document, trying very hard to ignore him.
“Can we talk ?”
“I'm busy.”
“Later ?” You shrugged.
“Maybe.” That clearly wasn't the answer he was hoping for. He lowered his voice.
“Did you get my message ?” Your fingers paused over the keyboard and you simply nodded. “You didn't answer.”
“I know.” You finally forced yourself to look at him, but that was a mistake. Up close, he looked even worse, and the second your eyes met his, something in his expression softened.
“Baby…” Your eyes immediately darted around the bullpen.
“Don’t.” Gator stopped, nobody seemed to have noticed. He leaned slightly closer. “Sorry. I meant what I said.” Your jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Every fucking word.”
“Gator.” You sighed out loud.
“I just need you to know that.”
“I said I know.” He stared at you, and you could practically feel the desperation coming off him.
“How'd you get here this morning ?” You stopped typing, knowing this conversation was coming.
“Ben drove me.” Gator's jaw tightened just slightly, but you still noticed.
“And ?” He asked, and your eyes lifted.
“And what ?”
“He took you home and came back this morning to drive you here ?”
“No.” That immediately got his full attention.
“What do you mean, no ?” You looked at him dead in the eyes, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say.
“He didn't take me home yesterday.”
“Then where…” His expression changed, he figured it out himself. “You stayed at his apartment ?” You didn't answer and his jaw flexed. “Seriously ?” You leaned back in your chair.
“Be very fucking careful Gator.” He stared at you. “You do not get to be jealous about where I slept after what happened last night.”
“I know.”
“Do you ?”
“Yes.” He replied, eyes dropping to an old sticky note laying on your desk.
“Because your face is saying something very different.” Gator rubbed his jaw.
“I'm trying to make…”
“Try harder.” You cut him off, and you noticed how his jaw ticked but he didn’t argue, just nodded.
“Did anything…” Your eyebrows shot up and Gator stopped himself immediately. “Never mind.”
“Good choice.” He exhaled through his nose and you turned back toward the computer. “He slept on the couch.” You didn't even know why you told him, maybe because despite everything, you knew exactly where his mind had gone. Gator's shoulders visibly loosened. “He just didn't want to be alone.” Gator's expression changed, the jealousy disappeared, replaced by guilt.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” You looked down. “He was still pretty fucked up.” Gator swallowed.
“Is he okay ?”
“I don't know. He cried most of the drive.” He looked toward his office, then back at you.
“He talk about me ?” You gave him a look.
“What do you think ?”
“Right.” For a moment, neither of you said anything, and you clearly didn’t want to have a conversation with him right now in the middle of the station.
“I need to work.” Gator nodded.
“Okay.” But he didn't move, his eyes were glassy now, but not enough for anyone else to notice. “Are you leaving me ?” Your stomach twisted.
“Gator.”
“Just tell me.”
“This isn't the place.”
“I know.” His voice dropped even lower. “But I've been sitting in that fucking meeting for three hours pretending to listen while wondering if you were gonna tell me it was over the second I got back.” You stared at him.
“I told you last night I needed space, one night isn't space.” His face fell.
“I know.”
“I'm here today, aren’t I ?” Gator looked at you.
“You're here because you work here.” You sighed.
“I'm not making any decisions right now, but I'm still pissed and fucking confused. And you don't get to make me feel guilty because you're scared.”
“I know, I’m sorry baby.” You stared at him for another second then nodded toward his office.
“Go work.” He almost smiled, wiping his eyes quickly.
“Yes, ma’am.” He took one step away then stopped. You expected him to say something else, instead, his eyes just lingered on you for a second, then he turned and walked toward his office. You watched him go, and when the door closed behind him, you finally released the breath you'd been holding.
A little before noon, your phone buzzed against the desk.
Ben : Cast is coming off at 4, thought you'd wanna know
Your chest tightened, after what he said in the car, you hadn't expected to hear from him at all. You typed a response.
- : I do. Good luck
Three little dots appeared immediately, then disappeared. You thought he gave on on answering you, but about two minutes later, your phone buzzed again.
Ben : Thanks, bunny
You stared at the screen, and suddenly, your already complicated fucking day felt considerably more complicated.
By the time your lunch break came around, you were desperate to get out of the station. After Gator had finally walked away from your desk this morning, he'd gone into his office and stayed there. No texts, no excuses to walk past you, no conveniently appearing beside the coffee machine the second you went near it, nothing. Exactly what you'd asked for, space, so why the fuck did it bother you ?
You grabbed your purse and keys and left before you could think too much about that. You drove home, took the fastest shower of your life, changed out of yesterday's clothes, fixed your hair and ate something standing in your kitchen.
By the time you returned to the station, you felt slightly more human. Still emotionally wrecked, but at least you no longer looked like you spent the night participating in the world's most catastrophic family drama.
You walked through the bullpen and instinctively glanced toward Gator's office. The door was open and he was sitting behind his desk, phone pressed against his ear while he wrote something down. His eyes lifted and found you immediately. You expected something, a smile, a nod, anything. Instead, his gaze lingered for barely a second before he looked back down at his paperwork.
You frowned, okay. You went and sat at your desk, starting to work again. At one point, Gator came out of his office with a folder. He crossed the bullpen, talked to one of the deputies and dropped something on another desk before walking directly past you. Nothing, not even a glance.
You stared at your computer, kinda mad but this was exactly what you asked for.
An hour later, you went to refill your coffee. Gator was already in there. He looked up when you walked in and for a second, neither of you moved. Then he stepped away from the machine. “Sorry.” He grabbed his coffee. “Just getting out of your way.” Your irritation appeared so quickly it surprised you.
“You don't have to leave every room I walk into.” Gator stopped and looked at you, confused.
“You said you wanted space.”
“I do.”
“Okay.” He seemed even more confused now, lifting his eyebrows slightly, making the tiny wrinkles on his face deeper.
“Forget it.” You reached for the coffee pot.
“Hey … I’m trying here.”
“I know.”
“Then stop looking pissed at me for doing exactly what you asked for.” You turned toward him.
“I'm not pissed.” The faintest hint of amusement appeared in his expression and he raised both hands.
“Okay.” You poured your coffee and Gator lingered another second before leaving. You watched him go, and Jesus fucking Christ, you wanted space but not that much space, which made absolutely no sense. You returned to your desk and buried yourself in work.
Around 4:45PM, your phone buzzed. Beneath had sent you a picture of his bare left arm held dramatically in front of the camera, without his cast.
Ben : freedom
A smile appeared on your face before you could stop it.
- : Good ! You must feel better
His response came almost immediately.
Ben : i do. My arm feels skinny as fuck
You bit your lip but a laugh escaped you anyway while you covered your mouth.
- : Your arm does look tiny now
You were still smiling when movement beside your desk caught your attention, Gator. Your smile disappeared as he was walking past with a stack of paperwork. His eyes had dropped toward your phone, then toward your face, and his jaw ticked once, but he didn’t stop, didn’t ask or make some snarky comment. He just kept walking.
Your eyes followed him and something uncomfortable settled in your chest. Your phone buzzed again.
Ben : I know I said this morning I didn't know if I wanted to keep talking to you, but apparently I lasted like 6 hours
Your heart squeezed.
-: impressive ! I hope you’ll enjoy life again now that you’ve got both arms again
Ben : thank you …
You frowned.
- : What for ?
The dots appeared and disappeared for almost three full minutes before you finally got an answer.
Ben : idk …
You locked your phone. When you looked up, Gator was inside his office working, or pretending to, you couldn't tell anymore.
The rest of the afternoon passed and you caught Gator looking at you twice. Both times, he looked away. By the end of your shift, you were tired, irritated and completely confused about why you were irritated in the first place.
You packed your things and slung your purse over your shoulder. Gator was standing outside his office, looking in your direction. “You going home ?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“Okay.” Gator shoved his hands into his pockets, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. “Have a good night ?” You’re not sure why he made it sound like it was a question, but you nodded and started to walk away, but quickly turned around.
You stared at him and he stared at you, suddenly having no idea why you turned back around. “Did you sleep at all ?” You asked, and something in his face softened.
“No.” You expected that answer, but still didn’t like hearing it. “Couldn’t sleep after what I did to you.” You looked down as he glanced around the bullpen, making sure no one was near enough to hear any of you. “You ?”
“A little.” He nodded as you adjusted the strap of your purse. “Where are you going tonight ?” Gator shrugged.
“Back at the motel I guess.” You grimaced.
“That shitty one ?”
“The very same.”
“It’s so shitty Gator, can’t you go somewhere else ?” A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Campaign isn't paying well enough for me to live at the fucking Ritz you know.” You rolled your eyes.
“I didn't say the Ritz.”
“I'll survive.” The smile disappeared from his face again, then he stepped backward, putting space between the two of you. “I should let you go.” You nodded and he opened his mouth again, unsure of what his next words will be. “Text me when you get home please ?”
“Okay, I will.” You glanced toward the doors one more time, then back at him. “Goodnight, Gator.”
“Goodnight baby.” You walked out, and this time, he didn’t follow you.
By the time you got home, you were exhausted. You dropped your purse onto the kitchen counter, kicked off your shoes and stood there for a few seconds in the quiet, happy that your parens were God knows where again. You quickly texted Gator to let him know you were home like he asked and made something quick to eat before carrying it upstairs, eventually changing into pajamas and climbing into bed much earlier than usual.
Around 9PM, your phone buzzed.
Gator : Made it back too
That was it, nothing else. He was giving you exactly what you asked for, space. You typed back.
- : Okay, goodnight
His response came less than a minute later.
Gator : Goodnight
You put the phone down, rolled onto your side and pulled the blanket higher while staring at the ceiling. Another ten minutes passed before you felt the vibration again.
Gator : Sorry, just one more thing, I love you
Gator : Okay, space now promise
A tiny laugh escaped you. You almost answered but instead, you locked your phone again and placed it beside you.
Around 9:30PM, you'd almost started falling asleep when your phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t Gator.
Ben : How long until my arm stops looking fucking disgusting ?
You stared at the message then laughed.
- : Give it a little time, it’ll look normal again
He didn’t reply for almost twenty minutes, so you thought that was it, but your phone ended up buzzing again.
Ben : Sorry, I can’t just stop talking to you. It still feels normal, like for a few minutes I just forget what happened. Talking to you is the first thing I wanna do when anything happens to me
Ben : Sorry, that’s stupid. I should just fucking hate you … I’ll go to bed now I guess
You swallowed hard, God how could he still be such a sweetheart after what you’ve done to him ?
-: Goodnight Ben
Ben : Goodnight bunny
Your heart sank as you stared at the nickname he was still using for you. You locked your phone and dropped it onto the mattress, covering your face with both hands. “Fuck my life.”
The next morning, you were back at the station, it was finally Friday. You'd been at your desk for a little over an hour when you heard the station doors open and Gator walked in. He parked his cruiser outside, and judging by the expression on his face, something had already pissed him off.
Then you noticed what he was holding, a small black device. Gator walked through the bullpen without saying a word. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the little black box, his jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the muscle moving from across the room. Your eyes followed him but he didn't look at you, didn’t even look at anyone. He went straight into his office and slam the door shut.
Apparently, he had finally found Charlotte’s little experiment with the tracker on his cruiser. By the look on his face, it was only a matter of minutes before he would explode. You decided to go and talk to him, knocking lightly on his office door. “What do you want ?” You heard coming from the inside, okay, he was really pissed.
You opened the door and when he noticed it was you, he softened. “Sorry baby, I didn’t know it was you.” You locked the door behind you and walked toward his desk.
“You finally found Lottie’s tracker ?”
“I did. I called her and told her to get her ass here asap. I swear to God, I’m really fucking mad at her right now.” You nodded. “Are you okay ?”
“Yeah. Slept a little better.” You stopped for a few seconds, before speaking again. “Ben finally took off his cast yesterday. Just thought you should know.” His eyes snapped to yours, he clearly wasn’t aware.
“Oh, yeah, okay. How’s his arm ? Everything okay ?”
“Yeah.” You hesitated again. “His arm looks a little weird, but that's normal.” A faint smile pulled at Gator's mouth.
“He bitch about it ?” You almost smiled too.
“A lot.”
“Sounds like him.” The smile disappeared almost immediately. “I should call him. You think he'll answer?” You considered lying, but didn’t.
“No.” Gator nodded.
“Yeah.” He'd expected that, it still hurt, but he agreed with you. “I should try anyway.” You hummed in agreement before turning around and walking toward the door again. “Oh umm … When Charlotte gets here, can you tell her to come in my office right away, please ?”
“Yeah, I will.” You opened the door and went back to your desk.
It was almost an hour later when Lottie walked through the doors of the station. She looked pissed as she walked straight toward you. For a second, you were actually terrified that she somehow knew the truth, but her anger wasn’t aimed at you, yet. “Hey. Where's my dad ?” You pointed toward Gator's office.
“Hey, in there, but I think he’s on the phone right now.” She rolled her eyes and dropped into the chair beside your desk.
“He called me losing his fucking mind.”
“The tracker ?” Charlotte's head snapped toward you.
“How do you know about the tracker ?” Shit, you were such a dumbass, but managed to recover quickly.
“He came in holding it this morning.”
“Oh.” She leaned back. “Yeah, maybe wasn’t my greatest idea.” Charlotte rolled her eyes once again. “But come on, you’d think I planted a fucking bomb under his cruiser.”
“You did secretly track a law enforcement vehicle.”
“It worked though.” That shut you up. Charlotte looked toward Gator's office. “At least I think it worked.”
“What do you mean ?” She looked back at you and leaned in, as if she was telling you about a state secret.
“Ben followed him for me. I couldn't do it that night, so I convinced my brother.” You nodded slowly.
“And ?” Your heart started beating faster. What if Ben did tell her and she was just fucking with you to see your reaction ? No, she probably would’ve already killed you by now. Charlotte stared at you.
“I don't fucking know, he won't tell me anything.” Something shifted inside your chest. You already knew that Ben wouldn’t betray you like you betrayed him, but hearing Charlotte confirm it did something to you anyway. Lottie leaned even closer. “He found her, dad’s mistress.” You leaned back slightly.
“Oh shit.” There we go again, having to put on your best acting performance. “How do you know he found her if he won't tell you anything ?”
“Because I'm not stupid. He came back completely fucking weird and he wouldn't answer anything. I asked if he found dad and he said yes. Then I asked if he was alone and he said no ! When I asked who she was he told me to drop it.” Charlotte stared at you meaningfully. “Ben has never told me to drop anything in his entire fucking life.” You nodded slowly.
“That is weird.”
“Thank you.” She leaned back again. “So obviously he found her, and obviously it's someone we know.” Your blood went cold as you looked at her.
“Why obviously ?”
“Because why else wouldn't he tell me ?” Charlotte shrugged. “If it was some random woman, he'd just say it.” Fair. “Maybe it's someone from the campaign, or somebody who works for the county. Maybe even someone at the station.” Your heart skipped when Charlotte looked around the bullpen. “You work with him every fucking day, you really havent noticed anything weird ?”
“Charlotte, how the fuck would I know ? I’m stuck at this desk all damn day.”
“You've never seen him act weird around anyone ?” Your mouth went dry.
“No. He acts weird around everybody.” That made her laugh.
“Fair.” Thank God she seemed to let it go. “What about that woman from the courthouse ?” Well, apparently not.
“What woman ?”
“The blonde one. She came to the ranch once.”
“Charlotte, I’m not helping you make a suspect board.” She sighed dramatically.
“I just wanna know who the fuck she is.” You turned back toward your computer, wanting this conversation to be over as soon as possible, but she kept glancing at you, so you spoke again.
“Why ?”
“Because if Ben saw something that fucked him up that badly… this must be insane. Like, someone we personally know, maybe even a family member from mom’s side or something.” Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Charlotte had absolutely no idea she was sitting less than three feet away from the woman she had spent days trying to find.
Suddenly, Gator’s office door slammed open, and he walked up to his daughter sitting right next to you. “Office, now.” She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically again before standing up and following her dad into his office.
About fifteen minutes later, she stormed out, so angry that her face had turned red. She walked straight to the exit without looking up at anyone else. You looked towards Gator’s office, and he seemed so pissed and tired at the same time. Your heart swelled a little seeing him like this. You knew you asked for space, but you couldn’t handle it anymore.
As he closed his office door once again, you glanced across the bullpen, making sure no one was looking at you and made a beeline for his door. You opened it and locked behind you right away. He was leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. You noticed the gray threading through his shaved lines near his hairline. His eyes snapped up to yours and he opened his mouth to speak but you didn’t give him the chance to.
“Gator, fuck what I said. I don’t need no fucking space anymore.” You collapsed on your knees right in front of him.
“Baby, what the hell are you doing ?”
“Begging.” You replied, looking up at him. “I don’t need space, I need you. I need you to fix me, I don’t care how, I just need you to …” Your hands were already reaching for his belt. His nostrils flared and that muscle in his jaw jumped twice. He was twenty years older than you but he still looked like he could bend steel with his bare hands when he was pissed like this.
“You’re the one who said you wanted me to leave you alone, that you needed time to process. Then you show up in my office and drop to your knees in front of me like a damn fucking slut ?” His eyes darkened, and there he was, your Gator.
“I know.” You replied.
“You know ?” His laugh was bitter. “Baby, you don't know shit.”
“Then show me.” Your fingers finally got his belt undone and started working on his button next. His hand caught your chin, tilting your face up. He was rough, his thumb pressing into the hinge of your jaw until your mouth fell open.
“You miss me that bad baby ?”
“Worse. ” You felt his fingers twitch against your jaw.
“Show me how bad.” You didn't need to be told twice. His zipper came down and you were already leaning forward, mouth watering at the idea of sucking him off. You quickly pulled his cargos down and freed his already hard cock. Waisting no more time, you wrapped your lips around his tip, tongue circling the head of his cock as his breath hitched. You hollowed your cheeks and his hand fisted tightly in your hair, making your eyes water. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”
The praise went straight to your core, a shiver running down your spine. You worked him with everything you had, no teasing and no slow build. This was about proving something. The wet sounds filling his office combined with the way his hips started bucking into your throat made you clench your thighs together. You took him deep enough to gag, pulled back gasping, and went right back down. Your mascara was already running and you could feel saliva dripping down your chin, not giving a single fuck.
“Look at me.” You looked up, and his expression was somewhere between fury and awe. “You’re giving me this bullshit ‘I need space’ shit, I’ve spent all this time thinking I fucked this up beyond repair.” His grip tightened, forcing you still with him buried to the hilt in your mouth. “You’re never pulling that shit again, hear me ?”
You made a sound that was supposed to be ‘yes’. “Good.” He pulled you off him by your hair. A strand of spit connected your bottom lip to the head of his cock. “Get up.” Your legs didn't want to cooperate, and he didn't wait for them to, just hauled you upright by your upper arm and spun you around. The edge of the desk caught your hipbones. “Skirt up.” You thanked yourself for wearing that skirt today.
You bunched the fabric around your waist with shaking hands. Your panties were already soaked through, you could feel it and could hear the slick sound when he dragged two fingers over the lace and found you dripping. “This what happens when you beg for me baby ?” His mouth was right by your ear now, breath hot and teeth grazing your skin. “All wet for me ?”
“Yes.”
“Yes who ?”
“Yes sheriff.” A sound rumbled out of his chest, a low groan that made your pussy clench around nothing. He tore your panties down, didn’t want to bother taking them all the way off, just the bare minimum. Then, the thick head of him was notching against your entrance and you were pushing back, desperate. He entered you, splitting you open brutally without stopping once until he was buried to the hilt. Your breath caught, and you struggled to say anything, simply letting weird sounds escape your throat.
“Breathe baby.” Air rushed back into your lungs in a gasp. “That’s it.” His hips drew back and slammed forward again, making the desk screech against the floor. “You wanted this, you came here and got on your knees, begged for it, so take it.”
“I did, I did, oh my God, fuck.”
“Shut up.” He wasn’t angry anymore, he was condescending, the vein in his forehead throbbing while his fingers gripped your hips so tight it hurt. “There’s people outside that damn office. You want them to hear what a desperate little slut you are for me ?” Your answer got fucked right out of you. He set a pace that was punishing, deep strokes that knocked the air from your lungs, that made your toes curl and that sent a stack of folders sliding off the desk, scattering across the floor. His hand crept up your spine and his palm wrapped around the back of your neck, before sliding around your throat. He pressed slightly, like a reminder that he could cut off your airflow if he wanted to.
“You’re finally gonna mark me, and I’m gonna mark you too.” His teeth found the curve of your shoulder through your shirt, biting down hard enough that you yelped, and then immediately muffled the sound against your own forearm. “No more hiding, everyone’s gonna know.”
“Yes. ”
“Say it.”
“Mark me.” The words came out strangled and his grip on your throat tightened. “Please, please, I want them to know.”
“Know what ?” He asked.
“That I'm yours.” A sob caught in your chest. His cock was hitting a spot inside you that made your thighs shake uncontrollably. “That you own me, please.” His laugh was mean.
“You think you deserve that ? After what you pulled ?” He was fucking into you so hard now that you couldn't answer even if you had the words. Your elbows kept slipping and your cheek pressed against the cold wood of his desk. His nameplate dug into your sternum. “Cum for me. Now.”
It wasn't a request, it wasn't even a command, it was a statement of fact, and your body obeyed before your brain caught up. The orgasm crashed inside you, your cunt clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses. He pulled out right away and the sudden emptiness made you whine.
“Turn around.” You couldn't make your legs work. He turned you himself, one hand still around your throat, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as he stroked himself fast and brutal, the wet sound of your own arousal still slicking his shaft. Then, his release was striping hot across your cheek, your nose and your open mouth. He was marking you in his own way by cumming all over your face. One thick rope blurred your vision in your left eye for a few seconds.
His thumb swiped through the mess on your lips and pushed inside. You sucked it clean. “There, now you’re mine.” He said, still breathing hard and holding your throat. He helped you get back up, and grabbed tissues on the side of his desk, helping you clean up.
He kissed your lips once you were clean, looking far less pissed and somehow relieved that you weren’t putting him in the doghouse anymore. After a few minutes of cuddling while leaning on his desk, you spoke again. “Wanna do something with me tomorrow ? It’s Saturday, we could explore a new little town we’d like, or maybe we could…”
“I can’t baby, I’m busy tomorrow.” You looked up at him, confused. He never worked on Saturdays, so what did he mean by ‘busy’ ?
“Why ?” He took a deep breath and you already knew you weren’t gonna like the answer.
“I’m spending the day with Mia.”
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