ru ꨄ

infp she/her new writer!

[cinnnamonkiss]

introduction!

welcome! you can call me ru

i love: olivia rodrigo, djo, role model, sza, javier reyes, post animal, clairo, marvel, superman, music, movies, stranger things, tfatws (#1 sambucky shipper), slushynoobz, autumn

i do not write smut! i feel very awkward writing it, so i’ve chosen not to altogether

i post on random days, but they always come out at 5:30pm cst!

requests are open 🤍

you can read more of my writing here!

[random-ly-obssessed]

Peter Parker bf!texts

Stark!reader

swearing, smut mentions, secret relationship, chronically online humor

perm taglist: @katrinaellie

[amourjane]

i miss u y/n stark and ur purple wanda maximoff powers

[ch3rryshark]

oooooo something about Gator dating independent reader where she’s always had to do things herself w/o a man’s help. So when she tries to fix her own car he comes swooping in trying to help her and have a “real man” do the job… ending in fluffy makeout maybe lol

A REAL MAN

Gator Tillman X Reader.

Summary: Being independent taught you to never rely on anyone. So when you try to fix your own car, Gator saves the day before you can fuck it up.

Warnings: fluff, makeout at the end

A/N: I love this scene, I find it so cute 🦅

"Shit..." you muttered, frowning at the wrench that's fallen for the fith time.

You wiped sweat from your cheek, smearing a soft streak of grease by accident as you glared at the open hood of your truck. You always did things yourself - flat tires, leaky faucets, hell, even the work at your daddy's farm. You never needed help but today, this truck was testing every ounce of patience.

You groaned, picking up the wrench and kicking the ground.

"Need a hand, darlin'?"

You whipped your head around, eyes meeting brown ones. Gator leaned against his car. The one you didn't even hear pull up. A smirk pulled at his lips as his arms crossed over his chest, confident.

"I've got it." You grumbled with a sigh, straining as you tried to the bolts on some new thing your daddy gave you.

"Looks like it's havin' it's way with you." He chuckled, walking over. He stood close to you, smelling faintly of that cologne you loved so much. "Let a real man handle this, doll."

"I said I've got it, Gator." You scoffed, forcefully trying to wedge the wrench into place. "Never needed any help growing up. Don't need you swooping in now."

He didn't back down. Instead, he stood behind you, his body pressed against yours as his large, calloused hand covered yours on the wrench.

"Woah, easy there, mama." He whispered into your ear. "Ain't no one questionin' what you can do. But if ya force this, you'll ruin the whole bracket."

You froze. You hadn't known any of that. He noticed, chuckling lowly as he continued working the wrench with you. "See?" He said, realigning the bolt. "Gotta sweet talk it."

"I know how to sweet talk things." You grumbled, though your heart was doing tint flips in your chest, not from the heavy lifting. But from him.

Gator laughed, setting the wrench aside before spinning you around and trapping you to the truck. "You're stubborn." He said, looking down at you with soft eyes.

"Uh uh, I'm independent. They're different." You defended before poking him in the shoulder.

"Yeah?" He breathed out as his thumb brushed your cheekbone. He looked at the engine grease that now stained his thumb and smiled. "I like that 'bout you, sweetheart."

His eyes dropped to your lips for a split second before noticing you do the same. A small giggle slipped passed you lips and before you knew it, Gator closed the distance.

His lips were warm against yours, and without thinking, you melted into him. You parted your lips slightly, allowing Gator to slip his tongue in as he rested his hands on your hips. You completely forgot about the grease on your hands, letting them creep up behind Gators neck, pulling him closer.

He felt like safety, and as he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. Your chest heaved as you both caught your breath. Gator looked at you, a lazy grin plastered on his face. "Still want me to leave?"

You peeked behind your shoulder, looking at the open hood of your truck before looking back at his face. "You're mental."

"I take that as a yes."

[thehermitwritersblog]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓫𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮

Can you imagine having an important art project where you need a nude model, only to meet Teacake, who meets every single requirement of a beautiful model?

Well, imagine no more, because I just wrote it!

Word count: 4,282

Warnings: Smut, nudity, unprotected sex.

...................................................................

You typically didn't stress over assignments, but there was one in particular that was chasing away your sleep, precisely because you were having a hard time finding a live model for a painting. A piece you had to turn in at the end of the semester. First of all, because hiring a model was expensive and you'd have to dip into a portion of your scholarship, and second, because none of the models you already knew from past semesters quite convinced you for the job.

The idea was already floating in your mind, from the color palette and the lighting to the pose. But you couldn't find the most important part anywhere. You consulted models recommended by other artists in the field,social contacts, even students who wanted some extra cash and offered themselves for the work, but no one hit the mark.

It wasn't that you were picky about the male physique for your projects, but you needed this painting to truly express contemplation or the gaze directed at a beautiful man. Like someone observing their beloved at the first light of day. Something intimate without being overly erotic, simply an ethereal contemplation between knowing glances.

..........

You were working informally for your university drawing professor. You needed some extra cash for the end of the month. So your job consisted of storing materials and artwork, buying supplies, and handling a few things on his schedule. Sort of like a half-baked assistant.

It was 8:00 PM when he sent you to store some art pieces in one of his units at a storage facility. Since you had no idea which one it was or how to get there, you needed help from the attendant on duty. You called at the reception desk to ask for assistance, and a young man came out from the back room to help you.

God, what a beauty. What a face and what a figure.

He flashed a kind smile at you and you almost drooled right there in the middle of the aisle. You had to clear your throat to get the words out of your mouth.

"Hi, I need to find a storage unit, but I have no idea how. My boss sent me, it's my first time doing this."

"Don't worry, it's easier than you think. Don't let the endless aisles intimidate you."

You could make out his broad shoulders and muscular arms through his drab uniform; he had a thick, freckled neck. Gorgeous lips and big eyes—Jesus, you felt like you were melting right then and there.

"Just give me the aisle number and the unit number and that's it. I'll take you, so you don't get lost."

He had the kind of beauty that went unnoticed by unobservant people. You imagined that in clothes other than that dull uniform, he’d turn more than a few heads at any party or gathering. You were even sure he wasn't even aware of his own appeal.

"Yeah, it's Section B, Unit 14."

"Excellent, you won't have to walk that far. Come on, follow me."

Wherever you want, gorgeous, you thought. He grabbed the key while brushing a lock of hair from his forehead; you lingered on him longer than you should have and hoped he wouldn't notice. You followed him down the aisles while he walked ahead with his back to you, chatting about something, but you weren't paying attention.

You watched his back, as well-worked as his arms. For a second you wondered what it would be like to draw him, and you realized that right there, you had the model you'd been searching for.

"Well, we're here, this is your unit. Just try to memorize where you need to turn and that's it. It's not nuclear physics."

"Thanks, you saved me from getting trapped in this backroom."

He laughed lightly.

"By the way, I'm Teacake. Nice to meet you."

"I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you too."

And what a pleasure, you told yourself.

..........

Once you had properly stored the artwork and straightened up some of the mess, you headed toward the exit. You were nervous because you didn't know whether to ask him to be your model or not. And the fear of rejection was starting to convince you otherwise.

When you reached reception, Teacake said goodbye and told you to have a nice night. You were just about to grab the exit door when a quick jolt of adrenaline made you pivot on your heel and summon the nerve to ask him.

"Hey, sorry, I wanted to ask you something..." you said, biting your lip and hiding your hands in the pockets of your distressed jeans.

"Sure, how can I help you?"

"Yeah... Look, I'm an art student and I have to... You know, turn in a painting as a final project for my painting class."

You stared at the wall because your nerves kept you from looking him in the eye, but when you risked a glance for a second, he had an expression of confusion that made you even more nervous.

"What I'm trying to say is that I need a live model and... I think you'd be perfect for the job. Obviously I'll pay you, and it's not difficult."

Teacake softened his expression and looked somewhat surprised by the proposal.

"Model? I've never done anything like that."

"Yeah, it's really not hard. You'd just be lying down for maybe a couple of hours while I draw you."

"Oh... Well, that doesn't sound too complicated then."

"It's just that... I'd need you to, well, be naked. I understand if you don't want to."

Teacake opened his mouth in surprise; it wasn't an everyday occurrence for someone to ask him to be naked for artistic purposes.

"I'll pay you $60 an hour," you blurted out to see if he'd take the bait.

"$60 bucks! Wow, that's a lot more than what I make an hour here."

"Yeah, it pays very well for those who are brave enough to do it."

"Well, wow, that's incredible—strange, but incredible. I never thought artists necessarily had to have someone present to paint or do those artistic things. I thought it was more like from memory. Oh well, I guess it's kind of like that scene in Titanic, right? When Jack draws Rose on that sofa. Such a good movie, very sweet if you ask me, but me being a model? Yeah, I definitely didn't expect that..."

He kept talking and talking; you didn't know if he was nervous or if he was just that chatty all the time.

"So... are you up for it?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Count me in for that job. Those $60 an hour convinced me."

..........

You agreed to meet that same week in a studio your boss lent you as a favor. It was the most suitable option since it had great lighting and a bed with white sheets, plus, given the nudity, you couldn't do it in your apartment with roommates who had nothing to do with the arts. And of course, because it would be unprofessional to bring a nude model into your own bed.

You needed him to be there right after work because you wanted to capture him with the first light of morning. He arrived about 15 minutes before dawn.

"Look, we can take whatever breaks you need. I know I told you not to move, but normally if the pose cramps up a limb, you have every right to tell me so we can take a break."

Teacake nodded at every recommendation you gave. He looked quite relaxed, and you tried to be as professional as possible for the comfort of both of you. Besides, it's not like you weren't already used to seeing nude bodies over years of being a student. But that man's beauty had you a bit unsettled.

"There's a dressing room and a robe over there, and the room in the back is where I'm going to draw you. You can undress here while I set everything up to stage the painting."

"Thanks, I won't be long."

You both exchanged a kind smile, and you headed into the studio. Teacake took off his clothes and put on the robe. He hadn't been nervous before getting to the studio, but once he considered that he'd be totally naked in front of a woman he barely knew, it tied a knot in his stomach. He wasn't regretting it at all, but it wasn't the usual routine.

When he walked into the room wearing the robe, he watched you arrange the sheets and pillows in a way that looked disheveled and natural, as if he had slept there beforehand. He looked around the rest of the space and saw an easel with a blank canvas facing the bed; a palette and tubes of paint were already scattered on a small table.

"Um... I'm ready."

You turned to look at him.

"Me too. Just lie down here and tangle your legs a bit in the sheets; I'll tell you how to position the rest of your body."

You turned around to give him some privacy while he took off the robe. You knew it wasn't right, but you glanced at a small mirror on the other wall where his back was turned. And you watched as he slowly slid the robe down his body. He was so gorgeous from head to toe.

You heard the mattress creak and the rustle of him arranging the sheets. You turned back around to instruct him where to put his arms and torso. The sunlight was already streaming through the window by then.

"I'll put on some music, if you don't mind. It helps me concentrate and makes the time more pleasant."

"Sure, I like music."

"We can talk, too. I'll just need silence when I'm drawing your face because I need you not to move."

"Perfect."

"Right now I'll just be making geometric shapes to give the preliminary sketch its form. Then I'll adjust the highlights and shadows, and finally I'll mix the color palette I'll use for the whole portrait."

"Oh. Great, I suppose—lots of technical jargon."

"Yeah, it usually takes me about 3 hours. Make yourself comfortable," you replied while directing your gaze toward him and flashing a smile.

"Hey, what semester are you in?"

"I'm in my sixth semester. I graduate in a year."

"Wow, congratulations then... I, well, I didn't get to go to university, but I would have loved to. I never had good enough grades to even dream of a scholarship."

"Well, you can also get into other types of programs. It might not be the same, but it still helps."

"Yeah, maybe. But I feel like I wasted time and maybe it's not the same anymore."

"Wasting time? How so? You're still young."

"Yeah well, I used to hang out with not-so-good crowds. Plus, I'm very easy to persuade, as you might have noticed. I mean, standing naked in front of a stranger while we just chat—I think that's pretty clear evidence."

That drew a small laugh from you.

"Besides, I spent more than a year in prison."

You stopped paying attention to what you were doing on the canvas and turned to look at him.

"It wasn't anything serious if that worries you. Sometimes you just end up there for being a complete idiot. But it's fine, because during that time it helped me work out. And I guess that paid off, since it's going to earn me $60 an hour today."

You smiled at him understandingly. Because in a way, he was right. He had a stunning body.

"I mean, I'm also trying to focus on myself now; I read self-help books and try to meditate. My job is pretty quiet so it lets me do both."

You kept conversing while working on the canvas and giving him brief rest periods so he could stretch. For his comfort and as part of the composition of the artwork, the sheets covered his groin, but whenever he took his breaks, he wouldn't realize he was also kicking the sheet away entirely.

You behaved as professionally as possible, but with him it was quite difficult. Somehow, he didn't realize the magnetic power he held over you, and after a while he was getting used to the activity, so his shyness had vanished long ago.

"So, did your classmates already find models for their projects?" Teacake asked as he settled back into the same position.

"Not necessarily. The final project can be a landscape, a still life, or a normal portrait."

"So it wasn't actually necessary for you to get someone naked for your piece?"

"It's not necessary for the assignment requirements. But it was necessary for me."

"Can I know why?" His question came with a playful tone. He had genuine curiosity but also wanted to tease you a bit.

"Well, in another class I'm taking, we were talking about the female gaze in art. You know, men have always used women as objects of inspiration and desire, and they've been portrayed in thousands of ways under the male gaze. But what if we tried to expand the female gaze under that same parameter?"

Teacake was paying attention to you now, looking much more serious.

"What if more female artists could portray men with the same intensity and desire? Not just portraying men clothed because we have to be 'pure and innocent' for fear of what they'll say about us. What if we allowed ourselves to be daring, too? To capture our intimacy as part of our own artistic language beyond the carnal and empty. But rather, adding beauty to that private encounter."

"Oh, wow. I... I didn't see it that way. I mean, wow, it's true. The most famous artists are, you know, men. It makes sense then that the male perspective always predominates in art."

"That's right, I wanted to contribute my grain of sand from that perspective. To create a piece that emanates that feeling—as private and intimate as the male artists who have portrayed their lovers throughout history. An ethereal beauty that seems like they might disappear into the sheets or beneath the warm light. Sometimes with playful glances or even deep glances that show so much sensuality."

"And... do you think I emanate that feeling?" Teacake tried to meet your gaze, but the question caught you off guard and you wanted to find the right words.

He had already caught you.

"Yes, I do. That's why it took me so long to find someone for this. I already knew a couple of experienced models, other students who needed the money came up and asked me about the job. But, simply put, no one convinced me."

Teacake offered a shy smile.

"I could have chosen anyone, but I felt like I'd be lying. That the piece would lose all meaning if the person I'm painting isn't... the object of my desire."

You looked at each other with complicity.

"But you're an artist, you could have just made it up and justified it with something else."

"Oh yes, I could have. Used an imaginary resource for it, which in part is true with you too. We didn't know each other beforehand; we have no kind of intimate history. And I wanted this work to look like that. Like when you wake up next to the person who has you falling in love, and you realize he was already watching you before you even opened your eyes because you feel so fulfilled knowing he feel safe enough in his presence to sleep deeply, and it's like a gift. Seeing his face illuminated by the morning light, tangled in the sheets, naked and so beautiful."

Teacake looked at you with a flushed face, and you thought that if he hadn't been handsome before, he certainly was by a long shot now.

"Only God knows what experiencing that feels like. I've never lived it."

"Never?"

"No. I think I'm more just a spectator of my own fantasies. Living in excessive daydreaming. But living it? I don't think a man will ever desire me the way I desire him. But I like to imagine it; art isn't just a medium through which you portray experiences. It can also be a vessel for what you wish were true."

.................

The timer marked the three hours you had planned, and you felt a hollow ache in your heart knowing it was all over. The piece had progressed well; it just needed a few more touches, but Teacake's presence wasn't necessary anymore. You told him he could move now and get dressed whenever he liked. The work was done.

Teacake got up from the mattress with the sheet wrapped around his waist and walked over to you. You were still sitting in front of the easel organizing your brushes when you saw him approach.

"You know, I came because you convinced me with the money. I had nothing to lose. My whole life I've made bad decisions, and I only realized recently that to many people I was just an idiot—someone they could use to do their dirty work and then get me into trouble. But you... you made me feel genuinely seen. Like I don't just exist with or without some kind of relevance, but that I can also be beautiful in many ways."

You looked at him with your mouth slightly open, waiting to say something, until Teacake dropped the sheet completely. It slid down his legs, revealing a semi-erection. You pulled him closer to you with both hands on his torso and kissed the side of his belly button, breathing in the scent of his skin.

"I can't believe you've never been aware of your own beauty. Ever since I saw you come out of the back room, I realized it. Teacake... I..."

"Travis... My name is Travis."

"Travis, it's like you walked right out of my most intimate dreams."

You cupped his erection with one hand, and he let out a deep sigh. He held your hair gently as he watched you stroke him and then guide him toward your mouth. Travis was letting out the most delicious sounds you had ever heard.

......

Now you were riding him on the bed. Thankful that your boss was out of town, with no fear of getting caught. Travis groaned underneath you while your hips slapped against his thighs, making the filthiest, heaviest sounds. Your breasts bounced, already flushed and hard from the bites and hickeys he had given you moments before.

Travis leaned up to kiss you—a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths. Your eyes were teary, and he licked the tears from your face.

"Trav... God, Trav, I can't, I..." The overstimulation was too much for you; you thought you might pass out at any moment.

"Yes, baby, yes you can... Look at me, God, you're so beautiful. Came all over me, please. Yes you can, I know you can." His voice was ragged; you felt like he was about to come soon, too.

He grabbed both of your ass cheeks and worked them to drive you deeper into pleasure, kissing your neck. You could feel the sweat from his forehead against your skin. Both of you were soaked, your skin red and sensitive everywhere you had kissed, bitten, and marked each other.

Your orgasm swept through your entire body as you let it go with a loud moan, tears streaming down your face. Travis couldn't hold back any longer and came moments later, both of your fluids pooling at the base of his shaft, held back only by his pubic hair.

He wrapped his arms around you to keep you resting on top of him. You rested your head against his chest, still drunk from the orgasm, while he kissed your head, whispering sweet things to you that you couldn't quite process yet.

You both drifted off to sleep, immersed in the touch of your bodies and the rhythm of your breathing. It was past 3:00 in the afternoon when you opened your eyes. Travis had shifted you to his side onto a pillow. And in that instant, you realized he was already awake and had been watching you long before you woke up. Just like in your fantasies.

You gave him a lazy smile. He brushed the hair from your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Trav."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything," you replied, stretching beneath the sheets.

"This painting... will only your professor see it, or will there be an audience?"

"Mmm, actually, it will be exhibited. We have a gallery on campus where we usually display our final projects. Other students, professors, and guests will see it. Why? Are you feeling shy?"

"No, well, I don't know. I took a look at it a moment ago. You paint beautifully. I love it."

"Thank you. It was all thanks to you, don't give me all the credit," you smiled, stroking the hair on his chest. "You're completely invited to the exhibition. I'd love for us to get a picture together next to the painting."

"Do you really want me to go? Great. I'd love to go. I'll ask for the day off, even though my boss is an idiot, but it doesn't matter."

"Of course I want you to go—that way everyone can see the author and... the muse, live and in person."

You shared a knowing smile.

....................

Fifteen days later, the exhibition took place. It was a Friday afternoon. Non-alcoholic drinks had already been served per university protocol, though there was always someone secretly sneaking in a few glasses. You wore a red velvet dress and dressed up for the occasion. Travis hadn't arrived yet, and you were starting to wonder if he wouldn't show up after all.

"(Y/N)... Your painting, wow, I find it marvelous. It's... so erotic. I could feel your model's gaze. Is he your boyfriend? It gives me such a romantic feeling. I think I blushed in the middle of the room while looking at it. Easily one of the best in the exhibition, without a doubt."

One of the faculty professors was congratulating you, tapping the arm of her glasses against her lips as she analyzed the artwork. You had to lie and say you were a couple to maintain the painting's narrative, though deep down inside, you would have loved for it to be true. While she continued talking to you about the rest of the exhibited pieces, someone interrupted by tapping your shoulder. When you turned around, you realized it was Travis."

"Hi, I thought you weren't coming," you said, a smile so wide it took over your whole face. You noticed he had trimmed his hair a bit and bought new clothes for the occasion. You found it sweet of him.

"Sorry, I had a few hiccups, and plus I stopped to pick these up."

Travis presented you with a bouquet of flowers, something you weren't expecting.

"Trav, they're beautiful! Thank you!"

"I didn't know if it's customary to give flowers at exhibitions, but I guessed you'd like them. You know, I've seen them do it at the theater, like when they throw flowers at actors. Though of course, this is a very different thing and there's no stage, but it's artistic, and I figured I could bring flowers too..." He was being chatty again.

"I love them... Oh, Professor, this is..."

"The muse... a pleasure to meet you. You're so lucky that such a talented artist captured your likeness."

"Thank you, really. I was nervous all week about this exhibition; I've never been painted before."

"Never? Well, I suppose the art world is missing out on something quite special."

Travis turned completely red; he hadn't expected other people to compliment him so directly.

Suddenly, a young man in a gray coat approached you.

"Hi, good evening, everyone. I'm looking for (Y/N) to take a photo of her next to the piece—it's the last one I need for Monday's article," a guy from the campus newspaper mentioned.

"Yes, that's me. Do you mind if my model joins me in the picture?"

"No problem."

"Travis, would you take the photo with me?"

"I'll do anything you ask."

Everyone headed toward the artwork. A few spectators who were still contemplating the painting and discussing it had to step aside for them. Travis was nervous; he hadn't expected so many people to be observing a painting where he was technically naked. But he was somehow enjoying this new experience, because in the end, it was all about you.

About how much he admired your talent and your way of seeing things, even if that meant being watched and analyzed by strangers. You both posed on either side of the painting. Travis didn't know whether to smile or keep a serious posture, opting for the latter. After a couple of camera flashes, the guy from the newspaper headed off.

"How are you feeling?" you asked him.

"To be honest, a little exposed."

"You'll get used to it. I heard someone is interested in buying the painting."

"Really? Wow, congratulations."

"Also, a group of students asked me if you'd be interested in continuing to model. They think you're perfect for a few group sessions."

"Group sessions?! Jesus, I think that pushes my limits—too many eyes on my ass."

You both laughed. Travis kept looking into your eyes and leaned in to give you a spontaneous kiss.

"But I suppose I wouldn't mind dabbling in a nude modeling career, as long as it's your eyes on me."

[harringtonsugar]

there’s never been a more attractive man than joe keery oh my god

[covered-in-you-now]

Until you choose me - Part 21

TW : age gap, arguing, smut, Ben 💔

Words : 5.7k

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.” 

general taglist : @proooof @maaaachiii @us3r4682 @delphinemix @cecesblogg

@haydensheartt @kristywidget97 @entercarolina @keerygirlie98 @jas-mines-things @arayajasmynee @bluejwi @stormyquirkyfan @exooojongdaeee @louisbelongstome28 @fairlyzaraa @margxteen @deeplightblue @stoneyggirl2 @soggycerealtbh @luminousdoomsellsword @potion-keery @bandagedthighs @crying2hs @pinkiepieshepardspie @lorieverse @djobaby @projections-mortal @bellaxwoods

[rosierecs13]

𝜗𝜚 MCU Peter Parker Recs 4

⭒ Masterpost ⭒ 08/10/2026

⭒ Marvel Comics

⭒ Part 1 ⭒ part 02 ⭒ part 03

it's supposed to be fun, turning 21 | @loverwebs

Your boyfriend, Peter, doesn't make it to your birthday dinner. So you walk home alone, only to run into the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

From Friends to This | @/loverwebs

Somewhere between sneaking into space and preparing to fight Thanos, Peter Parker and Tony Stark’s daughter realize they might not just be friends anymore.

Maroon Masterlist | @/loverwebs

Peter Parker was forgotten by the world. Y/N was freed from the Red Room, only to realize that freedom did not mean safety. He hid behind a mask because it was the only thing he had left. Y/N hid behind one because it was the only thing she had ever been taught. And somehow, in a city full of ghosts, the two of them kept finding each other.

Drop Dead | @worldsmessiestwriter

She knew her and Peter Parker were meant to be as soon as he walked into Stark Industries, call it feminine intuition.

Cherry On Top | @/worldsmessiestwriter

After a tabloid scandal costs Tony’s daughter her spot at MIT, she begins to unravel, and to make matters worse, her dad’s intern, who she hates, is now sat next to her at dinner. What can go wrong?

Yellow Dahlias | @moonstruckness

Peter sees you again after the memory spell was casted to make you forget him, but it seems that your heart still remembers the flowers he used to give to you.

occupational hazard | @prettyglad

you're clumsy; peter parker has super human, spider senses. he'd catch seven hundred objects for you just because he loves you.

Solace | @violetrainbow412-blog

a broken window leads Peter to your apartment on a stormy night

The Mechanics of Returning | @/violetrainbow412-blog

by chance, she crosses paths with Peter again, and memories she thought were lost begin to reemerge. Determined to uncover the truth, she moves to Queens to find answers, unaware that recovering them will come at too high a price.

The Frequency of Forgetting | @/violetrainbow412-blog

after erasing herself from his memories to save him, she spends years silently yearning for his love, unaware that fate would also ensure Peter was forgotten by the rest of the world. But no spell can break a bond that always finds its way back.

Chaotic boy | @/violetrainbow412-blog

as a member of the newly formed Avengers, you can’t stand the vigilante from Queens. But before long, you realize you have far more in common with him than you’d ever care to admit.

It’s Okay To Not Be Okay | @happy74827

You accidentally stumble into a web-covered nightmare after being late to your best friend’s apartment for your weekly dinner hangout

The Weight of a Name | @/happy74827

He believed the entire world had forgotten Peter Parker, until the girl he never spoke to in class said his name.

Letter Left Unsent | @/happy74827

You never knew writing a few words on the back of a stranger’s letter would reach the eyes of the man who swore the world had forgotten him.

The Feeling | @imani4reading

After you move in across the hall from Peter Parker, the boy you loved before you lost your memories, Peter decides he can’t take it anymore. He wants you to remember. Late night at a college party, a guy accidentally bumps into you, spilling his drink all over you. Under any normal circumstance, you would’ve brushed it off…but your powers are triggered and suddenly you remember that this isn’t just any guy. He isn’t just your neighbor. He is, or rather was, your boyfriend.

Every Breath You Take | @/imani4reading

For some peculiar reason, Spider-Man, the masked hero seems to constantly save you from even the smallest things. When you confront him about it and ask if you know him, he insists that you don’t. But then, when you confront him about being in love with you, he doesn’t deny it.

I Bet We Were Fun | @/imani4reading

You’ve been seeing some mystery guy as of late so when he shows up to your apartment for a party, Ned and MJ are excited to meet him. To get away from the noise, he takes you back to his apartment where you make a horrific discovery. Not only is he Spider-Man, but you were allegedly in love with him.

Dirty Little Secret | @/imani4reading

Tony Starks daughter, Wanda’s powers (but purple), dating the new intern in secret. What could possibly go wrong when Clint falls through the vents right after you sneak in your secret boyfriend?

god bless this shitty drywall | @uhhhj13iguess

peter parker, who craves human connection so much that he hears his neighbor jerking off through his shitty, paper-thin apartment bedroom wall and gets FAR too carried away with it

too much fun in the sun | @speedyinsilver

during an impromptu pool day with your best friend, it turns into something more…and maybe an incredibly embarrassing moment.

underneath the suit | @yasministration

peter isn’t prepared to take his clothes off for a meeting with the white widow, and he’s much less prepared to meet his best friend for the very first time since fate tore them apart in a cruel twist of memory.

natasha’s mentee | @/yasministration

peter’s spidey tingles fail to work during training, purely because you’re in the room, but what’s even worse is that you have questions to ask about it.

i heart spiderman | @/yasministration

peter parker isn’t mentally prepared to see his teammate and crush wearing an ‘i ❤️ spiderman’ t-shirt, but he tries to play is off smoothly despite being around teammates who can read his behaviour better than anyone in the world.

spiderfire superduo | @/yasministration

many of your superhero memories are riddled with the presence of spider-man, so how come you can’t recall a single thing about him? oddly enough, getting all your answers begins with a youtube video titled ‘spider-man and starfire being best friends for 10 minutes’

Mask On | @capsslutt

Y/n walks in on her boyfriend Peter soaking in the hot tub with his mask still on, it turns her on more than it should

A Quick Fix, [18 +] | @nobodys-s0n

Brand New Spidey | @sluvaffair

Your boyfriend returns from patrol beaten and bloodied and with a new attitude.

What the Heart Remembers | @/sluvaffair

4 years after Dr.Strange's spell, Peter finds himself face-to-face with you again.

letters i can’t send. | @fawnindawn

your cute upstairs neighbour holds many secrets. you’re willing to close one eye to his secrecy or the way he looks at you as if you hung the stars, till you accidentally uncover letters upon letters nedpeter’s kept in his apartment—all addressed to you.

web me home. | @/fawnindawn

peter’s new arachnid senses often leave him disoriented—hibernating and waking up in places he doesn’t recognise. it’s a small problem, one he’s willing to deal with on his own, till he wakes in your apartment with his arms wrapped around you.

Thawed | @purplepersimmon

when spiderman comes tumbling in to your nyc apartment in winter wounded and hurt, tending to his wounds and keeping him warm leads to much more..

Ektara | @itgirlsthetic

Spider-man needs Ex-Avenger!Reader’s help in investigating..

Tu Zaroori | @/itgirlsthetic

Reader is worried about Peter.

Look After You Miniseries | @spidey-mads

While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.

Heartbeat | @thought-you-knew

As a nurse, nothing really fazes you. You've seen it all, but seeing the Punisher carrying in an unconscious Spider-Man? Well, maybe you haven't seen everything. Or Peter thinks you're cute while you're concerned for his elevated heartbeat.

Sunset | @/thought-you-knew

You didn't think you'd see Spider-Man again, at least not in person. You're wondering whether deprivation is kicking your butt, or if that's really Spider-Man wandering around the hospital halls with a bouquet of pink peonies.

Would Anyone Cry | @oyavoyage

after a long time of being forgotten, peter parker shockingly meets someone who remembers him: a girl he used to see in high school. but their relationship doesn't start off with sunshine and rainbows; they will have to learn to choose each other, even when it's the harder thing to do.

chicken shop date | @kentluv3r

flirting with your guests is a regular on your youtube show… but flirting with SPIDER-MAN hits different, especially ‘cause he flirts right back!

figure you out | @cinnnamonkiss

you know peter’s spider-man, but you let him keep his secret until he’s ready to tell you.

Unraveled, part 2 | @y2sb

hatred has a funny way of turning into temptation, especially when your greatest enemy is the only one who can keep up with you.

because i like you | @inkievoid

Peter has a crush on his mentors daughter. And he has no idea she feels the same until she saves him from flying food.

Mirror, Mirror | @ems-typewriter

reader is getting ready to go out and peter sits with her while she does her makeup

Neighbor | @sabrinasopposite

y/n y/l/n has an annoyingly good looking neighbor that also goes to the same university as her, yet as many times as she tried to talk to him, he blocks her away. but she doesn't give up to make him smile.

you're a very good kisser | @ddejavvu

Ten percent | @dearwalker

You’ve been sick for past year and everyone in the tower knows except for Peter Parker, the guy you love. When he accidentally finds out, he’s not very supportive on your medical decisions.

mask on, fuck it, mask off | @/dearwalker

You’re spider-man’s closest thing to a friend since the world forgot his name. Helping him with gadgets, cleaning his wounds…all without him ever taking the mask off. His true identity has always been a barrier between you two, but what happens when he gets hit with the pollen, and not only him, but the creature lurking inside him fixates on the only person he gets to call home?

Far From Home, Far From You | @neverlandparker

y/n and peter have been through a hell of a year together - wars, battles, and death - they’ve encountered it all. so when y/n suggests peter should go on that school trip to Europe with his classmates and it doesn’t go as planned, what happens next? also ft cuddly peter and the kissing hand!

Night in | @blissfulparker

Chilly | @presleyluvschris

Caught in the Act | @psychoticfemmm

only you | @devotion

peter needs you after his patience snaps.

Cuddles and Pick Up Lines | @shitty-marvel-fan732

What Are My Other Options? | @fullybooked

The reader has come to the conclusion that Peter is cheating on them. What else are they supposed to think when he’s always running off and constantly canceling their plans? That he’s Spider-Man?

Apologies | @bruh--wtf

Peter's straining himself, and exhausted, and finally starts realizing that he's been wrecking himself. And he goes to the reader, wanting to make sure he hasn't lost her.

angel unaware | @silkscream

you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.

Not So Innocent | @spider-quackson

Where the avengers find out that Peter is not as innocent as they all thought when they walked in on both of you making out.

imagine | @sacharinee

peter likes having you close to him. all the time

The Last Of The Real Ones | @negasonicteenagemess

what a wicked game to play | @nezuscribe

after strange's spell, everybody forgot. peter could walk down the street without having cameras shoved into his face, but he could no longer go into that coffeehouse and talk to his friends like he used to. everybody forgot who peter parker was. everybody except for one.

only you | @ivyquill

after trying to break up with your boyfriend, he says something that you never would have expected.

Just Out Of Reach Masterlist | @hey-marlie

y/n met peter parker one time at the one of the university bus stops & shared a pizza with him in the rain. he seemed like the nicest kid & so when y/n sees peter in the hospital only a couple weeks later looking like a shell of the boy she’d once met, well, y/n’s always felt a calling to helping people. so why not help peter parker? plus, he’s super cute so that also is a huge help.

Things That Look Like Nothing | @justapurrcat

As if getting caught up into the cliché trap of falling in love with your best friend and having to watch as he falls for someone else wasn’t enough, the universe has decided to take a step further in punishing you, turning your existence in a not-so-figurative life or death situation. Your closest confident is now the reason behind your pain, your anchor the very thing that’s dragging you down...

caught in the act (kinda) | @leiawithtoomanyaddictions

peter and you are in a secret relationship. one night he sneaks into your room at the avengers tower after a patrol shift as spider-man. accidentally setting off the silent alarm making tony burst into your room to find them together, misunderstanding the situation…

No. of fics: 63

[wouldthat-i]

To Build A Home

Pairing : Gator Tillman x Reader

Word Count : 10.1k

Summary : You and Gator decide to adopt a dog.

Chaos ensues.

Between the continuous slobber, boot-stealing, and sock chewing disasters, you and Gator take on your most difficult challenge as a couple yet - learning more about yourselves and each other than expected. As your lives intertwine, you learn to find home within each other.

Tags : chaotic fluff, slice-of-life, slight bit of hurt/comfort, established relationship, initial strangers to lovers, meet cute, suggestive language (MDNI), repeated cockblocking via dog, gator and reader act like horny teengagers honestly, adorable and mischievous dog antics, Oliver is a menace, soft!gator, insecure!gator, gator is trying to be better, gator is also a menace, sweetheart!reader, snarky!reader, lots of teasing and banter, low-key my version of a Gator character study, what is a timeline, roy tillman mentioned, mostly cursed at but technically mentioned, several snippets of domesticity, gator is soft for his girl, reader gets called darlin', doll, baby, my girl, etc, too many petnames to keep track of honestly, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.

Lemme know if I missed any tags !

Author's Note : hi guys !! thank you so much for all the love on my Keys fic, extremely grateful for all the support <3

I wanted to try my hand at Gator, specifically Soft!Gator, but I'm still trying to get his mannerisms and language down. Nevertheless, we learn by trying, so I gave it a shot.

Initially, this fic was supposed to be very cute and fluffy, with a lot of chaotic dog tidbits (mostly cuz I was missing my dogs lol) ... And then it became hella angsty with no prior warning ?? I blame Gator tbh.

Anyways, this fic is going to be a bit of a rollercoaster of emotions and a whole lotta chaos, so enjoy <3

Also, cheers to the wonderful doggo fics by @frootybb 💙 and @insomniacpen 🩵 - absolutely loved reading these, made me wanna write a djoling doggo fic someday, so please go check em out !!

"This is stupid."

"It's not stupid."

"Feels stupid."

You huff. "Gator Tillman, you agreed to this. We're getting a puppy. It's already settled, the court has decided."

"Yer got a court ?" he questions, chewing on some bubble gum.

"Yes, it consists of me, myself, and I."

"Damn, seem like a solid lineup of crazies."

You beam. "Exactly. Now come on, we gotta go in."

You drag him by the arm, ushering him inside the animal shelter. He grumbles, muttering nonsense under his breath the whole time - pretending as if he's not letting you parade him around with minimal resistance.

As you push open the doors to the shelter, the coat of paint on the gray walls chipping away, you spot a young girl behind the reception desk.

You make a beeline for it, Gator walking next to you.

"Hi, welcome ! I'm Leah, what brings you to the animal shelter today ?"

"Nothin' much to do 'cept buy one of these critters, ain't there ?" Gator deadpans, crooking his eyebrow.

Leah's face flushes in embarrassment.

"Gator!" you hiss in admonishment, nudging his elbow.

'What' he mouths, seemingly unbothered.

"Hi, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Leah, right ?"

The receptionist nods, her eyes downcast.

"Hi sweetie, I'm so sorry. What my boyfriend here meant to say" you explain, glaring at Gator, "-was that we're to look at some puppies and maybe take one home today." You turn back to her, excitement brimming.

Luckily she mirrors it, gathering up a few sheets and forms from the desk.

"Ok, great! We're always so happy whenever people come in to adopt. Let me show you to our pups and dogs." she beams, gesturing at you and Gator to follow her.

Sounds of extreme barking and howling alert you to the nature of the room you're about to enter. As Leah opens the door, the sight you're greeted with immediately makes you squeal.

Dogs of various shapes, sizes, colours and types are present before you, tails wagging and noses sniffing the air - trying to get a sense of you and Gator.

"Oh my gosh ! Gates, look!"

"M looking, hun."

"Oh my god, they're all so cute!"

Excited yips and barking fill the air, all of the dogs turning to look at the two of you in intrigue, some of them tripping over their own paws, their excitement palpable.

You turn to Gator, grinning, a question on the tip of your tongue.

"If yer 'bout to ask me if we should take 'em all home, I'm leavin'."

You pout, rolling your eyes.

"Fine, geez. We'll just get the one today, and then I'll keep coming by every week to get a new one. Our home's gonna be the dog farm people come to visit 10 years down the line, with the old, wrinkly couple as a bonus."

"Already thinkin' of spending forever with me, sweetness? Didn't think ya were that eager." He winks, leaning closer to you.

Your face warms, realising what you just said.

Thankfully, Leah clears her throat then. "So, we've got a variety of dogs, as you can see. We did have a few older dogs as well, but most of them were in an adoption event last week, and thankfully all 6 were adopted!." she chirps. "So, we've mostly got some pups and a few young dogs at the moment."

"Aww, that's great to hear! I'm excited to see the little ruffians."

Leah smiles, directing you to the first dog in the kennel.

"So, this is Levi - he's an American Bulldog. He's two this year, a little mischievous occasionally, but otherwise obedient."

You smile at the dog, the colour of his floppy ears reminding you of Gator's bedhead.

"This is Pearl, she's a poodle. A little bit of a diva, but she's such a sweetheart and loves cuddling."

Gator moves closer to you, his mouth near your ear, "Sounds like another lady I know."

You swat his chest playfully.

She goes around introducing you to almost 15 dogs, before you come to an adorable dachshund wagging its tail at you and Gator.

"Over here, we have this new pup we found out in the rain last night actually. Our vet confirmed that he's around 5 months currently, and is still in his teething phase." Leah exclaims.

"We haven't given him a name just yet, but he has a lot of energy. He does get a bit spooked sometimes though if someone talks loudly - we think he might've had a bad owner earlier."

You look at Gator then, and see him staring at the pup, something stony in his expression. His jaw is set, and his fists are slightly clenched. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his in what you hope is a comforting gesture. He swallows, looking down at your conjoined hands, before clearing his throat.

"We'll take him."

Your eyes widen slightly, "Gates, you sure ? We don't have to if it reminds you of ..." you trail off, unsure of how to bring up his father.

His hand squeezes yours in reassurance, "I know, sweet girl. Can't abandon this fella though, he deserves the chance to have a good home, don't you think ?

"Yeah" you agree, voice thick, squeezing his hand back. "He does."

Gator looks at Leah, who seems to have been doing her very best to not listen in on your conversation. "We'll take him." He repeats. "Ya got any forms and stuff we need to fill, kid?"

"Oh, yes, yes - yeah !" Leah breathes, "It's back at the front desk, I'll get the process started right away!"

"Appreciate it." Gator nods.

The both of you follow her out, back to the reception hall. You wave back at the dachshund, whose tail only wags faster still.

Filling adoption forms might be one of your top 10 nightmares at this point, the process incredibly long and monotonous - pretty much sucking the energy out of you. At one point, Gator pops down to the cafe down the street to get you both some coffee to just get through all the documents.

"Ok, and that should be all. I'll get one of our staff members to bring the dog out here, and y'all can take him home." Leah remarks.

"There's also a list I've attached to the back of the forms - it's just a summary of a few things you might need that's necessary to have when raising a dog. If you have any queries, feel free to call us!"

You look at the list from the set of documents you're holding, committing the first few to memory. "Thank you, Leah. We appreciate it, sweetheart."

She beams. "Of course! Thank you for adopting from Sage's Shelters!"

!Ruff!

The sound of excited barking following a door creaking open draws yours and Gator's attention. A seven pound package accompanies the sound, ears flapping as it runs towards you.

You immediately thrust the documents into Gator's chest and squat down, arms open with glee.

Which immediately turns into horror when the puppy trips, skidding into you and causing you to fall onto your butt.

"Oof!"

Gator chuckles above you, clearly enjoying the spectacle, but you don't even have time to frown at him as you feel the dog licking your face in excitement.

"Whoa, whoa -, hey buddy, hi! Yeah, I'm glad to see you too!" You giggle, sitting upright. He yips, panting with his tongue out.

You scoop him into your arms gently, tilting him towards Gator, who only gets a second's warning before the puppy is trying to wriggle out of your arms - proceeding to lick Gator's face, slobbering all over his cheek.

Gator reels back in disgust. "Ugh! The fuck they feeding yeh?" He exclaims, peering at the dog, who only continues to try and lick at Gator's face.

"Shit! Get that thin' away from me, fuck!"

You chortle, unable to hide your laughter. "Guess he's already taken a liking to ya. Lot quicker than I did, that's for sure." you wink, nudging Gator's hips with yours.

Gator wipes the slobber off of his face with the back of his hand, scowling. "Let's get to the car before he decides to piss on me too."

You snicker at his remark, swaddling the puppy securely as you walk through the automatic exit doors.

Once you get into Gator's truck, you hop into the backseat, placing the dog on the towel you had laid on surface beforehand. He sniffs the object, before promptly circling his tail and plopping down - breathing beginning to even out.

"What should we name him, do you think?" you question, looking at Gator through the rearview mirror.

"Probably Slick or Spit or something considering how much the mutt enjoys it." He grumbles, switching on the ignition.

You roll your eyes. "I see we're resorting to holding grudges against a dog."

"Yup."

You sigh. "What about.. Zeus?"

"You want to name this tiny thing after the Greek God of Thunder?"

You hum, "Mhm, fair point. Steve ?"

"No."

"Walter, like Wally for short ?"

"Fuck no."

You huff, "Well, I don't know then, Sheriff, got any ideas ?"

"Rocky" he replies curtly, proceeding to yell at the passerby crossing the street during a red light.

"Rocky - like from the movie Rocky ?"

"Yup."

"No."

"Fine. Whatcha think 'bout Dash?"

"Dash the dachshund" you raise your eyebrow - exasperation evident in your tone.

"Fuck, I dunno, Oliver or somethin' then?"

"Oliver.." you muse, turning the idea around in your head. The blinker switches on as Gator pulls into the driveway.

"Yeah.. I like that, it's cute."

Gator scoffs, switching off the ignition and turning around in his seat to face you and the sleeping pup.

"A man named Gator and a dog named Oliver, sounds like the start of a bad joke" he grumbles, the slightest bit of insecurity flickering in his eye whenever it came to his name.

You shift forward in your seat, careful not to disturb Oliver. "Good thing I like bad jokes then." you whisper, cradling his face. His eyes shut close, his body leaning into your touch.

A sense of peace settles over the both of you... Which is then immediately interrupted by Oliver, who seems to have realized that you have arrived at your destination - tail wagging excitedly.

"Hi Oli, you ready to go inside your new home, bud ?"

!Ruff!

"If that mutt's gonna ruin our peace when we're havin' a bit of fun, I'm throwin' him out to the garden."

You roll your eyes, often a habit at this point when conversing with Gator. "Sure you will - knowing you, you'll probably end up spoiling Oli in a few weeks, you big softie." You stick your tongue out. Oliver barks in agreement.

"Alright, alright. Get outta my jeep, the both of ya." he grumbles, grabbing the car keys.

Leah was definitely not joking when she claimed that Oliver was quite energetic. Three weeks later, and it still took you by surprise - seeing how quickly the clean and orderly living room transformed into the sight after a hurricane in a matter of seconds under his four paws.

"Fucker's chewed through his bed again... and peed in my fuckin' boot." Gator scowls, emptying out his boot.

"Well, the shelter did say he was going through a teething phase. I read that it's supposed to reduce after about 7 months, so hopefully he'll ease up on chomping through things like the Tasmanian Devil soon enough." You sigh, gathering the torn couch pillows that have somehow ended up near the empty furnace, the moonlight serving to illuminate the massacre even further.

Gator being Gator decides to make a bad situation worse.

"Told ya we shouldn't have got one of these shits - they ain't nothin' but trouble." he retorts, taking a beer out of the fridge.

You whirl around at him, seething. "Don't. You. Dare. Gator. Tillman." you fume, punctuating each word with a jab against his chest.

"You agreed to this. In fact, you fucking suggested it!"

"Coz yer said yeh was lonely, woman! Da hell else was I supposed to do ?" he snaps.

"I said that it feels lonely coming to an empty house, Gator. Your stakeouts at the new station take so long, that by the time I come from work, I barely see you! That's not something you can fix with a dog!"

"What the hell did yer want the fuckin' dog for then ?!"

You feel your eyes starting to tear up, your chest feeling like it's being squeezed to nothing.

"I wanted one so that we could have a bit more love and laughter in our home, Gator." you sniffle, wiping the tears that are starting to fall with the ends of your sweater. "Do you even know what it's like to come home, weary and exhausted, and see a little creature bounding towards you - just happy that you're home ? No expectations, no obligations, just pure joy that you exist in the same space?"

You continue, mouth trembling. "Yes, I wanted a dog, but I wanted to experience the good and the bad together, Gator. Is that too much to ask without you shifting the blame to me just because you're annoyed ?"

Gator's jaw tightens, his eyes downcast.

Oliver pads into the room just then, his mouth holding the chew toy you and Gator had chosen together at the pet store the day after he was adopted.

"Aroo?" he questions, tilting his head - likely sensing the tension radiating across the room.

"Hi Oli" you whisper softly, careful to not spook him or remind him of any bad, loud memories. You crouch, extending your hands to carry him.

"I'm going to take him upstairs for now, maybe let him sleep a bit." you announce to the room, not looking at Gator as you heft Oliver into your arms.

He says nothing, continuing to stand by the kitchen counter, his beer untouched.

You wake up to an empty room, no trace of Oliver or Gator nearby. You shift, turning over to look at the alarm clock on your bedside. 22:13 it reads, the neon lights on the numbers glowing in the otherwise dark room.

"Probably dozed off accidentally." you mutter to no one in particular, rubbing your eyes blearily. You push yourself upright despite your body protesting, desperately wanting to go back to sleep... But you need to check on Gator and Oliver, so you shuffle downstairs - movements slow and languid.

"Sit !"

"Ruff!"

"Oliver, sit !" Gator's voice carries through from the garden, his frustration evident in his tone.

You inch closer to the porch, your footsteps light - barely even noticing that the living room has been cleaned up, looking much better than it did a few hours ago.

"Fuck, why won't yeh just sit and not be a piece of shit for a second?! Yer stupid or something ?" Gator yells, his voice booming.

"Aroo.." Oliver whines, tucking his tail in between his legs, his body shaking.

You go to intervene, your rage from earlier reigniting instantly at Gator shouting at your pup. Before you can do anything though, you see Gator kneeling down slowly, settling on the grass.

"M' sorry" you hear him whisper. "M' sorry, boy." Gator whispers, reaching out to pet Oliver.

Oliver moves out of reach, his frame still trembling.

Gator nods, accepting his reaction. "Yeah, dat's fair. Don't blame ya, I'm a fuckin' bitch, I know."

Oliver lets out a low whine in agreement.

Gator chuckles, "Yeah, sometimes I feel the stuff my dad said still hauntin' me, y'know ? Like all his shitty behaviour fuckin' possesses me, and before I know it, I'm lashin' out like him." He scoffs, "Son of a bitch is dead and still manages to fuck up my life."

He looks back at Oliver, "I'm sorry bud, didn't mean to yell at ya.. I fuckin' hated it when he did that, made me feel small and worthless 'n' here I am, doing the same to ya." Oliver shuffles slightly towards your boyfriend.

"Can't undo that now, but maybe this'll help ?" Gator asks, a treat between his fingers.

The dachshund decides that it's an adequate apology, and jogs towards Gator. He then chews on the treat offered to him, and settles down right in the middle of Gator's lap, seemingly content.

Gator freezes, his shoulders hunching up. Oliver pays no mind to this, continuing to lay in Gator's lap. You observe as Gator's hand, shaking slightly, reaches down hesitantly to pet Oliver's head.

"Won't do it again, I promise. Won't ever yell at yeh, I swear." He promises, petting Oliver with a bit more confidence. "At yer and her both." He amends, stroking Oliver's fur gently. "Fuckin' idiot I am, yelling at the best thing that's ever happened to me. He confesses, his free hand dragging across his face.

"Had fuckin' tears in her eyes 'n' everythin'.. never hated myself more than in that moment, and that's sayin' somethin'."

You feel your eyes beginning to glisten with tears, your heart feeling like it's being torn to shreds at the defeat in his voice.

"Still don't know how I managed to get her to go out with me.. I was being a fuckin' moron, that's for sure. Yeh wanna know how I asked her out ? he snorts, the memory playing in his head already.

You smile too, knowing at what he's about to say next.

Oliver shifts, one of his ears flopping in the process. Gator takes this as a sign and continues his story.

"Had just moved to town recently, still no proper sense of who I was or what the hell I was doin'.. And then one day, I saw her from outside the window of one of 'em fancy coffee places. Fuckin' detest the smell of those spots, still do... But fuck boy, she was just so beautiful, I had to give it a try.

'N' it wasn't her figure or nothing that caught ma eye - was the way she was listenin' to music on them earphones, smilin' along and tappin' her leg to the beat. Looked so fuckin' peaceful 'n' everythin', so I went up to her and guess what I said ?"

Oliver is well past asleep at this point, a gentle snore emanating from his tiny body. Gator pays him no mind, proceeding to recount your first meeting regardless.

"I tapped on her shoulder, waitin' for her to take off the earphones. Once she did, I used one of ma best pick up lines from back home."

You recall the first time you saw Gator, his hair still slicked back then, his smile a combination of cocky and nervous somehow. But what really drew your attention were the freckles on his face - a glorious splatter of stars across the canvas of his skin, and the softness of his sienna eyes - looking like he held a million little secrets in them.

"Hey sweetheart, ya from Tennessee ? Coz you da only 10 I see."

You blink. Once, then twice.

"Um, you do know that we're in Tennessee, right ?"

You see the realization occur in real time, the absolute horror etched across his face making you chuckle.

"Fuck" you hear him murmur, pink blooming on his cheeks.

"I do appreciate the compliment though." you say as you turn back towards the window, a smile threatening to break at what just happened. 'He's kinda cute when he's flustered' you think, moving to pick up the earphones on the table.

Before you can pop it inside your ears, you feel another tap on your shoulder.

"Yeah?"

The stranger clears his throat, "Whatcha listenin' to right now?" He tilts his head towards your headphones.

"Oh, um, it's this artist called Beebadoobee."

He blinks rapidly. "Beeba-what ?"

You giggle slightly. "Bee-ba-doo-bee" you clarify, breaking down the name.

"That Justin Bieber's new name or somethin'?" He questions, still dumbfounded.

"No, she's an indie artist." you explain.

If anything, the confusion etched on his face deepens. "Huh ?"

You roll your eyes playfully. "Here, sit down and try listening to it first." You offer him one side of your earphones, and he tentatively grasps it - slowly bringing it up to his ear. You put it in the other side, and press play. The notes of 'If You Want To' resume, and you continue nodding along to the song.

Gator on the other hand, seems quite at first. Then, you notice his pinkie slowly tapping the table to the beat, bit by bit.

You smile. 'Cute' you think.

As the song draws to a close, both of you are somehow sitting close enough that your shoulders touch, and you find that you don't mind it that much honestly.

"Whatcha think ?" you question, taking out the earphone from your ear.

"S' not bad." he muses, doing the same, placing it on the table.

"Not bad?" You repeat, amused.

He shrugs, head swaying from side to side. "Not my kinda jam, but y'know it ain't bad."

"I'll let the artist know." You tease, tracing patterns on the wooden desk.

"Why'd you wanna know what song I was listening to ?" You ask, curious about the man next to you.

"Saw yer outside the door, smilin' and lookin' all pretty, wanted to know what song blessed me enough to witness yer smile." He shrugs, acting like that wasn't a line worthy of being in a movie.

Traitorously, you feel your heart flutter.

"Smooth line." you remark, hastily gathering your belongings, lest you start actually falling for this stranger.

Gator's eyebrows furrow. "Wasn't a line."

"Right. Well, I've got to get going, so I'll see you around ..." You trail off, unsure how to address him, and maybe, just maybe hoping to catch his name.

"Gator." He supplies. "Gator Tillman."

Something about his name seems familiar, but you shrug it off.

"Well then, I'll see you around, Gator. Don't go around asking other people in town if they're from Tennessee." You rib, winking at him.

The tips of his ears flush immediately, the spots of red and pink quite a delightful addition to his face.

"See ya." He mumbles, looking downcast as you leave, not understanding what he did wrong.

Gator glances back to where you were sitting moments ago, eyes widening as he notices you left behind your lipstick or lip gloss or whatever those darn things are called. Fuck if he knows.

He grabs the tube and runs out of the café - grateful that the smell of whatever ridiculously sweet drink being made and assaulting his nose was starting to clear up.

"Hey!" He yells, cursing himself for not having gotten your name.

You don't hear him, earphones loud enough to drown the outside world.

He sprints faster, feet carrying him to the bus stop that you're waiting at. As he reaches the end of the street, panting like a dog, he skids to a halt - last thing he needs is getting decked in the face by running up to you out of nowhere.

Although if it at least grants him the opportunity to be touched by you in some manner, he supposes it can't be all that bad.

Fuck, he thinks, he's so fucking gone for you already.

He clears his throat, gently tapping your shoulder.

You whirl around in surprise, your eyes shining with recognition.

And fuck, your eyes, Gator muses. Way too fucking gorgeous to have for a mortal. The things he'd do just to have you spare a glance at him with them eyes.

"Before yer say anythin', want ya to know that I ain't stalking yeh or whatever. Saw yer left this at the cafe", he reveals, showing the tube in his hand. "Wanted to get it to yer, is all." He rasps, breathing still shaky.

You smile shyily, pocketing your lipgloss from his hand.

"Thank you."

"Ain't a problem." Gator waves his hand in dismissal.

"You're new to town, right ? Why don't I show you around as thanks ?"

Gator's face contorts in surprise.

"You'd do that ? Didn't really seem like yer wanted to have anythin' to do with me."

"Well.. you did heroically return my lipgloss back to me, seems only fair right ?" You grin.

He returns it, "If yer offerin', I ain't gonna turn it down, darlin'."

Your cheeks warm at the term of endearment, despite yourself.

Suddenly, a large screech rings in the air, signalling the arrival of the bus.

You quickly pull out a pen and some tissue from your bag, scribbling your number on it.

"Here." You thrust the tissue into Gator's hand. "It's my number" you confirm, walking towards the bus.

"Call me sometime and I'll show you around."

Gator nods, his tongue caught between his teeth, seemingly memorizing the number.

You wave to him, climbing on.

"Wait!" He yells.

You turn to look at him.

"I don't know your name!"

You smile coyly, the secret on tip of your mouth.

"How about we hang out first and if the date goes well, I'll let ya know ?" You offer.

He smirks. "Yer drive a hard bargain, missy, but I accept - it's a date then." He promises, giving you a two-fingered salute as your laughter rings through the air.

"N' here we are, 2 years later." He drawls, petting Oliver, who's still very much asleep.

"Dunno why she chose to go out with me then. Dunno why she's still with me now either to be honest with yer. She continues to choose me for whatever reason, even though I have no idea why she would put with a shitbag like me, but lord knows 'm grateful for it." he finishes, chuckling to himself quietly.

"But I wanna try and be worthy of her." Gator confesses, gently lifting Oliver from his lap and onto his broad shoulder.

"So, me 'n' yer got some work ahead of us to do, alright ? Gonna show her that she did the right thing by decidin' to take a chance on da both of us."

Your heart clenches, a mix between being torn at how Gator still views himself so negatively, yet soaring at how much he loves you.

The sound of footsteps approaching garner your attention, and you make your way to the kitchen - not wanting Gator to know that you may have accidentally-on-purpose ended up overhearing his conversation with Oli.

You set the kettle to heat, waiting to make yourself a cup of tea, when Gator shuffles inside the house. He places Oliver down on the dog bed, moving the water bowl closer to the pup.

As he goes to head on upstairs, he realizes the kitchen light is on and spots you. The moment he does, his entire expression softens - the sight never failing to give you butterflies.

He tentatively makes his way to you, uncertainty written all over his face from your fight earlier.

"Hey."

"Hi." You return, taking the teabag and placing in your mug. At this point, it was probably one of your favourite mugs considering how often you use it.

Gator had gotten it for you one day on the way back from work, his tone casual, yet his expression anything but - eyes searching if you liked it. It had two otters engraved on the front, holding hands as they slept. He'd said then, cheeks pink, that it reminded him of the two of you, because you always ended up reaching for his hand in your sleep and tucking yourself into his chest.

In all honesty, it was probably your favourite sight to wake up to, his expression soft, eyes untroubled and resting. His hair was a canopy of brown waves, having being grown out from that slick back he sported when you met. You loved running your fingers through the strands, Gator nuzzling further into the crook of your neck at the motion.

You didn't go to tell him that the only reason your hand had initially started reaching out for his was because he used to have severe nightmares frequently when you moved in together. Once you realized that holding his hand helped him settle down slightly, it became a reflex whenever he started tossing and turning. Eventually though, your body started craving his warmth so much that you ended up automatically burrowed into him. The first time you'd done that, he'd called you 'Bunny' relentlessly for a week.

The kettle sings, startling you slightly.

"I, uh, wanted to apologise, for, uh earlier." Gator starts, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Shouldn't have raised my voice 'n' yelled at ya. Didn't mean to, I swear, doll, but I guess my frustration at Oli got the best of me.. n- not that that's an excuse or nothin'." he clarifies, hand reaching out and rubbing miniscule circular motions on your wrist. "M' sorry, darlin'. Truly." he ends, punctuating the last word with a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.

You remain quiet, unsure of what to say, although the anger in your heart has diminished.

"I'll even get down on ma knees and beg if you want baby, just don't wanna go to bed fightin'." He confesses, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing the lightest kisses over your knuckles. You melt, your other hand carding through Gator's hair, the moonlight making everything feel softer.

"Not necessary." You whisper, looking up at him.

"Ya sure?" Gator questions, a smirk accompanying the sudden wicked glint in his eyes. "Recall yer generally liking it when I'm on my knees for ya, sugar." He exclaims, dropping down to his knees, his large, calloused hands encompassing your thighs.

"Gator!" You squeal, yanking him up by his sweatshirt, cheeks aflame. "Oliver's right there!" You tut.

"So ? He ain't comin' with us, and he sure as hell ain't gonna interrupt me showin' my girl a good time." Gator states, tilting your face to his.

When your eyes meet his, the flirty energy subsides, tenderness overtaking his features.

"Yer sure we're good tho?" He breathes, nudging his nose against yours.

"Mhm" you confirm. "Forgave you a while back anyways... I wasn't entirely made at you, more so at the situation I guess."

"I know, baby, I know. I'll fix it, I swear. Don't even fuckin' like doin' em stakeouts, waste of ma time, and keeps me from the only thing I want - comin' home to my girl."

Heat pools in your stomach at his words - the sincerity paired with the timbre of his voice making you feel things.

"Since when were you such a smooth talker, Tillman ? Got any other girls you're tryna impress?" You press, threading both hands through his hair and bringing his face closer to yours.

He grins, devilish and pretty. "Fuck no, sweet thing. Ain't got or care 'bout anyone else 'cept ya - yer it for me." He confesses, his hands settling on your lower waist, his grip firm.

Electricity hums underneath your skin, and you pull him into you, your lips capturing his. Hard and without mercy.

The tea lays forgotten and abandoned.

Gator groans into your mouth, the sound settling low in your system, and taps at your thighs to jump up. You immediately oblige, and he hoists you up, arms securely holding you. You bite his lower lip, and he growls, licking into your mouth with urgency.

You unwillingly break away from him, needing oxygen. Gator tries to chase your lips, but you don't let him kiss you. Not yet.

"Upstairs. Now" You sigh, pulling his head back by his hair, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of him. His wooden brown eyes now mere ringlets against the black void that seems to have consumed his irises. He exhales roughly, chest heaving, which draws your eyes to his mouth, the view so tantalizing that you forget to breathe - his lips, kiss-biten and swollen, a gorgeous pink that you want all over you.

"Gator, upstairs. Please." You beg, running your hands over the galaxy of freckles and moles across his shoulders.

He nods, carrying you all the way to your room. Once you enter, he shifts, keeping you upright with one hand and locking the door with the other.

Your brows furrow at the action.

"I ain't taking any chances with that dog walking through while we're busy." He scowls.

You can't help it, you chortle at the absurdity of his statement, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

"Don't laugh at me, goddamn it." He retorts, but his tone is devoid of any actual annoyance, and before long, he's chuckling alongside you.

You move your head back to look at him, unable to muffle the smile on your face. "God, you're so cute sometimes, Gates."

"Cute?" He guffaws, eyes narrowing. "I'll show yer cute" he vows, throwing you onto the bed.

Over the next few months, true to his word, Gator and you work out how to train Oliver better. Gator swears even his police training wasn't this difficult, the energy Oliver has akin to that of a rocket sometimes - his slender frame helping him narrowly avoid yours and Gator's hands when trying to catch him for bath time.

Yet over time, thankfully, Oliver becomes a relatively obedient dog, often surprising you and Gator with how well he obeys commands.

Well, for the most part at least, with a few exceptions being his love for stealing Gator's work boots and chewing on your themed socks, despite his teething phase being long past.

Well, can't teach an old dog new tricks, you suppose, smiling fondly as Oliver munches happily on his treat.

!Ruff!

"Hi Oli !" You exclaim, keys jiggling as you unlock the door, back from work.

He barks, tail wagging ferociously.

"Hi baby, I'm happy to see you too!" You coo, bending down to pat him on the head and give him plenty of belly rubs.

You hear a scoff, nonsensical grumbling echoing slightly against the walls. You make your way to the kitchen to find Gator readying supper.

"Fucker's been here 2 months, and he's gettin' greeted 'fore me and bein' called baby." He mumbles in annoyance, nearly spilling mayonnaise all over his wrap.

You bite back a smile, slowly walking towards and wrapping your arms around Gator's waist. "Hi baby." You greet, purposely cooing at Gator the same way you did with Oliver, as you kiss his neck.

The grumbling intensifies and you laugh into his back, the muscles firm under your cheek.

"Callin' me and the dog the same fuckin' thing now - what am I, chopped liver?"

"Aww, are ya mad at me, hun?" You tease, ruffling his hair. He huffs, only to abruptly turn around and lift you onto the counter. You gasp, your senses off-kilter.

Gator then places his hands on either side of your thighs, tilting his head and just observing you.

Your cheeks warm under the attention he's giving you, his eyes full of affection.

"S' wrong, baby? Sure seem pretty quiet suddenly. Nothin' else to add?" He teases, his fingers ghosting the length of your arm, featherlight and steady.

You lean into him. "No, not really, just missed you, Gates."

You hear his sharp inhale at your sentiment, and feel him press a soft kiss against the side of your forehead.

"Missed ya too, sweet girl. More than yer could imagine."

An impatient whine interrupts the both of you, and you turn to the sound, only to see Oliver pawing at the foot of the counter.

"Aww, baby, I'm sorry." You apologize, stepping down from the counter. "Your dad decided to distract me. C'mere, baby." you urge, settling down on the floor.

Oliver giddily runs up to you, launching himself into your arms - his coat shiny and soft like a marshmallow.

"I can feel you rolling your eyes, you know ?"

"Well, can ya blame me? Switched from stakeouts to investigations to have better hours so I can come home early to yeh, and yer cuddling up with that damn dog. Even brought home some of that thousand island dressing stuff yer like and made tacos." He fusses, serving yours and his food onto your respective plates and placing it back into the fridge to eat for dinner.

Your heart pangs, heavy with guilt. As much as you know that Gator loves Oliver - because he does, he's been the one training Oliver to obey commands, thoroughly enjoying the sense of authority he gets to wield in a way that's fun and significantly less illegal - he's also right in saying that you haven't been giving him as much attention nor fully reciprocating the effort he's been putting into spending more time with you.

You give one last kiss to Oliver's forehead before setting him down gently, and walking towards Gator. You bring your hand up to his chest, feeling his heartbeat, the pulse steady and clear.

"I'm sorry, baby. You're absolutely right, I haven't been spending that much time with you. It's not intentional, I swear, but I'm so sorry I made you feel like that, Gates." you whisper, placing a soft kiss on his jawline.

"I haven't been managing my time well, and I've started leaving you out of things. I'm so sorry, baby." you repeat, intertwining your other hand with his.

"S' fine, I'm probably being stupid -, "

"No, you're not, Gator." you state.

" - being jealous of a fuckin' dog, what am I, 12?" He continues, scoffing at himself.

"Gator Tillman" your voice is like steel, and that gets his attention.

"You. Are. Not. Being. Stupid. Nor. Are. You. Stupid." You assure him, punctuating each word with a kiss. "Ok ?" You ask, looking at him.

He doesn't look you in the eyes. You gently tilt his face down towards you, "Ok?" you repeat, your tone impossibly soft. He nods, barely distinguishable, more so a jerk of his head, but he nods nonetheless. You hum, pleased.

"Good. Because no one gets to talk about the man I love like that, not even you, Gator Tillman." You state, tone sharp and precise.

He cracks a little smile at that.

"Thank you for telling me how you felt, Gates. Means a lot that you're willing to trust me with your feelings. I want you to do that more, ok? Because I want to know how to love you in the way you deserve."

He stills at that.

You continue looking at him, the setting sun bathing the kitchen in soft waves of orange and yellow. "You deserve love, Gator, so so much, you know that, right ?" You bring up the hand that was on his chest to cup his cheek, your thumb lightly brushing his face in soft motions.

His entire demeanour softens at that, leaning into your hand, coffee eyes dilating.

"Yes ma'am." He salutes at you.

You beam, pulling him closer to you, chests touching. "Can I kiss you?" you breathe, not wanting to cross the line until he forgives you.

"Thought yer said it was 'May I'." he quips, leering at you.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Fine, may I kiss you, please Gator ?"

He groans lightly, "Course sweetheart, yer ain't never need to ask." He responds, pulling your waist to his, breaths mingling.

Your hands find the base of his neck, fingers sifting through his hair, pushing yourself up to meet his lips in a tender embrace.

You don't go to slip your tongue into his mouth and neither does he, both of you content to remain savouring the taste of each other's lips. You draw back momentarily, pressing dainty kisses to the corners of his mouth, before leaning back in to kiss him - focusing on his upper lip the way he usually does with you, hoping he can feel how much you love and how apologetic you are for ever making him not feel as loved as he should be.

He pulls back, giving you one last kiss, placing his forehead against yours. "Apology accepted, baby. Yer my safe space, yeh know that, right ?"

You sniffle, gleaming. "I'm glad, Gates."

Later that night, you and Gator settle down on the couch, the TV light casting shadows across the living room. Oliver remains curled up near the coffee table, snoring gently.

You had told Gator that Oliver could stay out in the garden until the both of you went up to sleep, but he dismissed that, motioning for Oliver to follow him to the TV area. The dachshund went willingly, almost sashaying as if he were a prince, and settled next to Gator's feet.

"You sure? He really likes hunting for butterflies, we could let him stay out for a few hours, spend some time together."

"Yer tryin' get me alone woman, that it?" Gator teases, winking.

You playfully punch his arm.

"Nah." Gator rasps, watching Oliver sleeping intently. "I don't mind him staying with us, last thing I need is this fucker goin' 'n' diggin' that damn garden." His face and body completely contradict the nature of his words, the softness in his eyes evident of his affection for Oliver.

You poke his arm, "Liar. You're such a softie, Gator."

"That so? Know at least one thing about me that ain't so soft, sweetheart."

You groan, rolling your eyes in tandem. "Let's just watch the movie, you perv."

Gator chuckles, his hand pulling you into his side, thumb tracing the edge of your shoulder.

"Whatever you say, hun."

It's been a whole summer since you've gotten Oliver, and you think you and Gator have adjusted pretty well, all things considered.

Gator has started taking Oliver on his early morning 5 am runs, both of them loving the rush of cold air against their faces. You stay in bed peacefully until 7am, not a peep from the outside world. By the time you come downstairs to make a cup of tea, Gator and Oliver often finish their run, coming through the front door.

You beam, saying 'your boys' are back home, the smile Gator tries to hide behind a scowl a repetitively endearing sight. Oliver just accepts it, tail wagging, and then runs off into the garden - conducting his daily inspections against the neighbourhood squirrels.

Oliver and you have a developed your own sense of routine too - mostly comprising him monitoring your ability to fold and fit sheets from the comfort of yours and Gator's bed, and then promptly refusing to get off said bed when you need to actually change the sheets.

On the days where Gator does it, he's as obedient as, well, a dog.

You pout, the favouritism blatantly obvious, and you faux rant about it to Gator one day - legs swinging over the kitchen counter as he assesses the contents of the fridge to determine what to make for dinner.

"Like this is the epitome of the parent who didn't want to get the pet ending up being its favourite. The actual audacity Oli has."

Gator chuckles, shaking his head as he drops a kiss on your forehead.

He's been trying out and making new dishes recently, quite enjoying cooking - says it gives him something to do with his hands. You give him a few suggestions on some other things he could be doing with his hands. Safe to say, dinner doesn't get made that night - the both of you opting for takeout after the exhaustive and refreshing aftermath of your shared endeavours.

Honestly, despite the clear favouritism Oli has towards Gator, you can't really find it in you to be genuinely upset - because it's allowed you to truly see Gator in a different, more tender light. A Gator that allows himself to just be in the moment without worrying out being perfect, a Gator that lets himself indulge in what he would've considered silly activities like playing hide and seek with a dog - yet actually wholeheartedly enjoy it, scooping up Oliver at every given opportunity. Your favourite though, might be how Oliver has helped Gator rest more.

Over the past two years, Gator has always been wound-up and alert over the smallest noises, never letting himself fully rest. It kept breaking your heart, because what an exhausting way of living that must be, and what a fucked up life he must've had, constantly having to rewire and adjust himself to not get left behind or be considered 'useless'.

And try as you might, it wasn't something you could really help with, because dating you had only made Gator anxious on losing out the best part of his life - so he became even more neurotic. But with Oliver, Gator lets himself rest. You suppose it's one of those special things about the bond between man and dog, but when you come home after work and find Gator dozed off on the couch with Oliver's head resting on his thigh, your heart swells. One of Oliver's ears always activate to the sound of the front door being opened, and as soon as he realizes it's you, he lets out a soft 'aroo', happy that you're home, and goes back to sleep.

You don't think anything will beat the sight of them curled up together honestly, your boys - two hurt, abandoned souls becoming each other's shelter in their own ways.

Because as much Gator trusts Oliver, Oliver trusts him just as much, if not more.

Thunderstorms always frighten Oliver, likely an effect of the extreme sound animal ears can hear, and from being deserted during the pouring rain the day before Gator and you adopted him. You tried to do things by the book, muffling the sounds by closing the windows, and trying to act relaxed, but his frame would tremble regardless - his scared whines devastating to hear.

Gator's not the biggest fan of thunderstorms either, it often stirring up bad memories for him too. He'd told you about this one summer night after you'd had started dating, when you had mentioned noticing he'd flinch sometimes during thunderstorms.

"Reminds me of the night my ma left us. Dad was pretty mad, rumblin' around the house, smashin' everythin' in sight - wasn't very pleasant."

But when Gator entered the room that night, Oli bounded to him without abandon, leaping into his arms. Ever since then, whenever there's a thunderstorm, Oliver finds Gator somehow and ends up in his embrace. Gator tries his best to be brave for the both of them, softly muttering "I've gotcha buddy, I've gotcha - won't let nothin' hurt ya Oli, I swear, boy"

It would be remiss not to say that watching the way Gator takes care of Oliver makes you fall in love with him all over again.

All this isn't to say Oliver doesn't love you either. He does, very much so - often coming to get you first to show the new holes he's dug or showing you how close he is to catching his own tail (he's not, but it's still very cute how much he likes spinning around to show you). Whenever you have the day off from work, he's tucked into your side - whining the moment you get up from the couch to grab something to eat. His whining keeps getting louder the longer you take to come back - much like Gator to be honest - and immediately shuts up when you come back, burrowing into you. Still, very much like Gator. Sometimes you wonder if it's a genetic trait and then realize you're talking about a dog and a man.

Recently though, as he's grown a bit bigger - body lengthening, truly depicting the 'sausage dog' form his breed is often portrayed as - he's become a lot more protective of you, barking at the squirrels and pigeons that come your way whenever you're reading on the porch, and growling at weird men that stare at you for too long when you're walking him.

However, his protection, much to your entertainment, includes 'protecting' you against Gator. Not that Gator would dare lay a hand on you, of course not, but sometimes when he tries to be seductive [keyword being: 'tries'] and walk up to you, all slow and hulking, broad shoulders and strong arms on display - Oliver mistakes this for a sign as a sign of a potential attack. He starts barking, jumping up in the space between you and Gator - not letting your boyfriend come close to you.

Gator steps back. "Bitch, the fuck ? Why are yer always cockblockin' me ?" That's the third time this week!" He exclaims, glaring at Oliver.

You blink. "....Gator, honey, it's only Wednesday."

"I know that, my point still stands." He replies gruffly, arms crossed like a petulant child.

You can't help it, you snort. Before long, you're laughing, with tears already brimming at the corner of your eyes from the sheet absurdity of the situation - your boyfriend and dog staring at each like they're about to have a cowboy duel.

Gator scowls, jaw set, but you can already see the smile threatening to break at his face.

You crouch down to Oliver's level, hugging him to get him to stop jumping. "Aww, look Oli, you made Dad sad." you chide, mouth set in a faux pout.

"Daddy's not a bad guy, ok ? Daddy's very good to me, and you - he's very good to us, right?" You ask, turning to face Oliver. He pants in agreement, and you lift him up to Gator's face. "Give Dada a kiss, ok ? Let's say sorry for hurting his feelings.... And cockblocking him because he lets you hump that poor duck toy to your heart's content, doesn't he?" you question, your tone sympathetic but your smile widening with mischief.

Gator's eyes narrow at your faux sentiment, tongue in cheek. His eyebrow crooks up, hand settling firmly on your waist, and in that moment, you can tell he has every intention of continuing your prior activity once you're both in the bedroom without any dog-shaped interruptions.

Your cheeks heat, Gator's gaze and his wavy locks working a little too well in his favour.

Oliver, bless his heart, seems to think that you're actually sad about how he barked at Gator and starts licking his face. A lot. Like a lot. Repeatedly.

"Ack! What the- " Gator yelps, reeling back, his previous smooth demeanour disappearing into thin air.

Oliver refuses to let him move back though, continuously wiggling forward, and licking more of Gator's face.

"Oli, shit! Stop!" your boyfriend shrieks.

At this point, Gator's face, coated with tons of spit, is probably wetter than you were earlier this morning. Not that you would say that to Gator, otherwise you'd probably end up unable to leave the room for a week afterwards, legs sore and spirit leaving you.

Now generally, you pride yourself on an empathetic person, but you can't seem to stop laughing currently - not quite lowering Oliver to the ground just yet, nor helping Gator either - laughter taking over your system.

Oliver barks happily, thinking he's resolved the issue, and turns back to look at you as if asking if you're proud of him. You giggle, kissing his little head.

"Yer think this is funny?" Gator spits out.

"Only a little" you tease, placing Oliver on the ground, who scampers off back into the garden.

"Oh yeah?" He quips, lifting the bottom of his white t-shirt to wipe off some of the saliva on his chin - eyes staying locked on yours the entire time.

Your throat feels dry at the action, eyes dropping down to hide your flustered state - only for your breath to hitch at the sight of his soft, strong stomach - gleaming with sweat from his run earlier today. You watch as a bead of sweat rolls down his chest, leisurely making its way down, and disappearing into Gator's glorious happy trail right in front of you. You swallow thickly, eyes still roaming the expense of his skin.

Gator clears his throat, his smirk evident.

"Like what yer see?" He teases, tugging the t-shirt back down.

He walks up to you, barely a hair's breadth remaining between your bodies. You feel the warmth from his chest emanating, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

"Yes" you breathe, unable to lie even if you wanted to in this moment.

The tips of his ears bloom a bright red, the flush slowly spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

"Y- Yeah?" He stammers, slightly thrown off-guard by your conviction.

"Yes."

He brushes your hair back, placing it behind your neck, and leans in.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips tangling in anticipation - only to feel something wet and almost syrupy being spread across your face.

You squint, confused, as Gator snickers, lovingly caressing your face with some weird substance.

"Gate?"

"Hol' on, sugar." He grins maliciously. "M' almost done."

"Gator, what are you- ?" You step back, voice trailing off as you recall the events that had happened just moments prior, before being very distracted by your boyfriend.

Immediately, your face contorts in rage and disgust.

Gator slowly backs away, gearing to run - that infuriating toothy grin still plastered on his handsome face.

"GATOR TILLMAN!" You shriek.

He hoots, sprinting into the garden, his laughter echoing throughout the house.

You follow him, heels hot on his trail.

Unfortunately, Gator is prepared, holding up Oli as his line of defense once you reach the garden.

"Yer wouldn't do anything, would ya, sugar ? He teases. "Not with Oli here, looking so happy to see ya."

He tuts, sticking out his tongue at you, happy at having exploited your weakness, because Gator and Oliver have similar brown eyes, and when they gang up against you, eyes sparkling like pools of chocolate syrup - it's a battle you can never seem to win.

You huff, the rage of a thousand suns still burning inside you, but you can't deny how adorable Oliver looks in that moment - his little tongue out and panting, tail wagging, and calling for you excitedly to join him and Gator, clueless as a butterfly about how pissed you are at his dad.

"Fuck you."

Oftentimes, you try to be the bigger person in difficult situations, but today you're petty as hell. No way are you letting Gator run away, scot-free.

"Already did, last night and this mornin', sweet thing, didya forget ?." He quips, clearly enjoying your agony.

You glare at him, eyes darting around the garden for something to teach Gator a lesson with.

Target acquired.

"You know what, fair enough, you and I both know I'm not going to try anything with Oli around. Plus, I'm just purely disgusted by how icky this feels on my face, so I'm gonna go wash it off... But you, Gator Tillman, are a pig." you exclaim, pretending to head back into the house whilst inching backwards towards where the garden hose was.

"Tit for tat, doll - don't hate the player, hate the game." he returns, tone victorious as he sets down Oliver, eyes on the ground.

You slowly turn on the water, grabbing the hose in your hand and hiding it behind your back, shielding it from his view.

"Although," you announce, "I think there's something that you're forgetting."

"Yeah ? What's that ?" He questions, looking up from Oliver to you, his expression still so smug - placing his hands on his hips.

"This." You reply, angelic, before directing the water at him.

Later, when both of your clothes are soaked, emphasis on both because Gator stole the hose from you in a matter of minutes and had his revenge - Oliver has essentially had his bath for the week, fur wet and matted from the water sprinkling everywhere whilst you and Gator were running about, spraying each other with the hose - you sprint into the house, bringing back a camera and snapping a picture of the three of you, drenched and exhausted, but so so happy.

"Ok, ok... Remember how I told ya that me 'n' yer got some work ahead of us to do ?"

"That we're gonna show yer mum that she did the right thing by decidin' to take a chance on da both of us ?"

!Ruff!

"Well, today's that day, boy -"

"Aroo ?"

"-Alright, alright... to be honest, I wanted to do it yesterday because the date would've been 6/9 then, but I'm not sure if yer mum would've found it that funny considering the occasion."

Oliver yawns, crossing his front paws.

"Anyways.." Gator continues, clearing his throat. "It's been a year since 'n' I'm 'bout to ask her to take the biggest possible chance on me today, so I need yer to go get her now, ok ? Just like we practiced bud, ok ?

Oli tilts his head, looking at Gator.

"Oli, go fetch Muma!"

!Ruff!

Four paws pad across the ground, strides soft but determined, nails clacking on the floor.

Minutes later you appear in the garden, wearing one of Gator's old shirts and your favourite weekend shorts.

Gator's breath hitches, marvelling at how stunning you look.

Fuck, he thinks, I'm so goddamn lucky.

"Gates, what's wrong ? Oli appeared all of a sudde- ?" your voice trails off, hand covering your mouth in surprise, noticing how beautifully the garden has been decorated - a canopy of your favourite flowers.

Your eyes find Gator, a gasp leaving you as you notice what he's holding in his hand.

"Gator..."

He smiles, eyes crinkling as he looks at you - nervousness and anticipation written across his face as he kneels down.

"Hi darlin'.." he exhales shakily. "Don't think I ever told ya this, but do y'know why I like gettin' up at 5am 'n' goin' to sleep late ?

You shake your head slightly in response, feeling your heart pounding in your ears at what's happening.

"S' coz that way yer the first thing I wake up to and the last thing I see before I close my eyes, sweetheart."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Gates.."

His eyes are shining now, tears gathering slowly. "Been thinkin' 'bout the future these days, and honestly ? Yer the only sight I ever wanna wake up to, honey. Can't imagine livin' without yer and this little menace for the life of me." He declares, tilting his head towards the dog that's resting near your feet.

"You've always been there for me - yer fuckin' encouraged me to become a chef for fuck's sake."

You giggle, Gator's inability to not swear even in moments like this unfortunately endearing and just so Gator.

"Yer my home, angel. My home, my dreams.. fuck, yer my everythin'." He croaks, trying to keep his tears at bay - much like you right now.

"N' if yer'll have me, I want to be yours. Nothin' else I want 'cept us together, for as long as yeh'll have me, baby."

He whispers your name then, like a secret, like a promise.

"Will yer marry me, darlin' ?"

You nod as you run to him, your heart bursting with joy.

You clutch his face, the ring the last thing on your mind, and kiss him all over. Each and every perfect freckle and mole on his face is cradled by the soft touch of your lips as you breathe out a crescendo of 'yes, yes, yes, yes', tears escaping you.

He chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist like he never wants to let go.

"Doll?"

"Hmm?" you respond, still kissing his face.

"Yer.. kinda gotta the wear the ring, sweet thing." He reminds you, thumb tenderly grazing your skin. "Soon preferably, my knee's startin' to hurt like a bitch."

"Oh!" You reel back, looking at him, knees hitting the grass instantly. "Shit ! Sorry!" you exclaim, panic setting in. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear, just got caught up-"

Gator snorts, bringing the ring to your left hand. He looks at you, the love in his eyes far too overwhelming, and slips the ring on your finger.

The chill of the metal draws a slight gasp out of you, the gem twinkling like the stars in the night sky.

Gator stands up, lifting you up with him - drawing your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on your ring finger. Your body ignites at his touch, craving him in his entirety.

"I love yer, angel." He breathes, the confession making you melt no matter how many times you hear him say it.

You kiss him then, leisurely coaxing his mouth open, hoping your body communicates just how much you adore him.

He groans lightly, his tongue exploring your mouth, as he works his hands up to your face, cradling your jaw as if it were more precious than air or water - as if he could not survive if not by your side.

You draw back, oxygen your enemy at this moment in time, and fist his shirt - drawing him into you further, licking his lips with fervour.

"How long?" You demand, kissing the corners of his mouth.

His answer is instantaneous. "Been savin' since I saw yer that first time, knew I wouldn't want to live in a world where I don't wake up beside your smile every mornin'." He rasps, capturing your lips, his focus always on your treasuring your upper one.

You moan, his words adding fuel to your desire, and pull him flush against you. Your hands ravenously work their way to his hair, tugging his head back, your only intention to absolutely ruin his neck with your lips.

Deciding you two have had enough of a moment together, Oliver barks, drawing your attention.

"Suppose he gave us enough time just this once at least." Gator offers, nudging your nose with his.

You groan, glaring at Oliver, for once genuinely upset with him for interrupting the moment - only for your frustration to melt away the moment he hits you with those puppy-dog eyes.

"You've trained him too well." You murmur, loosening your hold on Gator.

"Hmm?" He tilts his head, gaze curious, but his smile knowing.

"You two and your fucking boba eyes, I swear." You respond as you and Gator crouch down to give Oliver belly rubs.

" We headin' back inside ?" Gator inquires moments later, as he lifts Oliver with one hand, the other intertwined around yours.

"I'm already home with the both of you."

"..."

Oliver sneezes, nose wrinkling at your statement.

"Yeah bud, that was horrid... Never fuckin' say that again, hun."

"Shut up, Gator."

dividers by @cursed-carmine

○ 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅. 𝑪𝒐𝒑𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑨𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅.

! 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 !

█▓▒▒░░░MASTERLIST░░░▒▒▓█

[jorkingtodjo]

The ladies would love to dig it ykwim.

[keonholoversclub]

PETER PAKER FIC REC

many of them contain bnd spoilers !

savior complex @tchnicolorr

when you fall apart, peter is the one to hold you. but peter parker is too busy worrying about you to realize he’s falling apart too.

word count : 3.6k

mirror , mirror @ems-typewriter

reader is getting ready to go out and peter sits with her while she does her makeup

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 0.9k

personal fav !

maroon @loverwebs

Peter Parker was forgotten by the world.

Y/N was freed from the Red Room, only to realize that freedom did not mean safety.

He hid behind a mask because it was the only thing he had left.

Y/N hid behind one because it was the only thing she had ever been taught.

And somehow, in a city full of ghosts, the two of them kept finding each other.

peter parker x escaped black widow fem reader

stuck like bricks @lumosflairr

When peter swings through your window and asks you to build Star Wars legos with him, how could you say no?

peter parker x stark reader

word count : 2.1k

figure you out @cinnnamonkiss

you know peter’s spider-man, but you let him keep his secret until he’s ready to tell you.

word count : 814

cheating on spidey

Y/N Stark got caught kissing Peter; media assumes she's cheating on Spider-Man.

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

personal fav !

hellbent @levanterhaze

you are grieving someone you can't remember, while Peter is grieving someone who's standing right beside him.

word count : 6.4k

personal favorite @xiaoale

in an attempt to get closer to your boyfriend, you try to guess his favorite color.

word count : 1.3k

hospital visit @webslinger-holland

After getting shot, Peter is recovering in the hospital and someone comes to see him.

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

word count : 1.4k

i bet we were fun @imani4reading

You’ve been seeing some mystery guy as of late so when he shows up to your apartment for a party, Ned and MJ are excited to meet him. To get away from the noise, he takes you back to his apartment where you make a horrific discovery. Not only is he Spider-Man, but you were allegedly in love with him.

word count : 4.7k

what the heart remember @sluvaffair

4 years after Dr.Strange's spell, Peter finds himself face-to-face with you again.

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 4k

those eyes , i still know @marsaffair

after meeting spiderman, something inside you tells you that you’ve met the man beneath the mask in the past, and once you see those eyes again, everything you once thought was lost returns with the promise of a new beginning. 

peter parker x new avenger!reader

word count : 4.2k

personal fav !

friendly neighbour @sagewritings

after the world forgets who peter parker is, he convinces himself that being alone is the only way to keep people safe. but when his stubborn neighbor accidentally discovers that he’s spider-man, the walls he’s spent years building around himself slowly begin to crumble—just as a new threat sets its sights on the one person who managed to get close enough to break them down.

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 11k

wait is that...? @vampireedolll

Spider-Man saves you from a robbery, and his voice is awfully similar to your long-term boyfriend’s voice.

word count : 2.7k

letters i can't send @fawnindawn

your cute upstairs neighbour holds many secrets. you're willing to close one eye to his secrecy or the way he looks at you as if you hung the stars, till you accidentally uncover letters upon letters nedpeter’s kept in his apartment—all addressed to you.

ektara @itgirlsthetic

Spider-man needs Ex-Avenger!Reader’s help in investigating..

spider man x mutant fem reader

word count : 3.1k

in dreams, i meet you in warm conversation @everythingcollided

you're avoiding the party that mj and ned wanted to throw, but that doesn't stop you from being found by a stranger. why can't you shake the feeling that he's familiar?

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 2k

sweet stuff @anon-188

business is slow, you’re losing hope. so peter does what any reasonable guy would do—sends spider-man on a bakery rescue mission.

tasm peter parker x baker fem reader

word count : 3.9k

personal fav !

from friends to this @loverwebs

Somewhere between sneaking into space and preparing to fight Thanos, Peter Parker and Tony Stark’s daughter realize they might not just be friends anymore.

peter parker x stark reader

bf peter parker headcannons @jtoddsbaby

homecoming!peter is your boyfie :)

peter parker x fem reader

did you get your taste back ? @xreader1989

will you, an ex widow, and Spiderman himself be able to get over your past traumas and let each other in?

Peter Parker x fem!widow!reader

word count : 3k

a vision trick @certaimromance

Breakups suck, and Peter Parker knows it better than anyone. So he throws himself into being Spider-Man, hoping the mask will help him forget. It almost works…until every girl he rescues starts looking exactly like the one he’s trying to get over.

ex peter parker x ex fem reader

word count : 3k

the frequency of forgetting @violetrainbow412-blog

after erasing herself from his memories to save him, she spends years silently yearning for his love, unaware that fate would also ensure Peter was forgotten by the rest of the world. But no spell can break a bond that always finds its way back.

peter parker x telepath reader

wordcount : 6k

for this, i can manage @celestialwyvern

your neighbour peter parker has a knack for stumbling in past midnight with bruises, offering lame excuses. you only meant to lend a hand, but one thing leads to another and you discover something shocking

the golden rule @luversloop

an unexpected visit from spider-man distracts you from your typical routine of arguing with your noisy upstairs neighbors in your head

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 3.1k

hoodie! @a-moth-to-your-flame

you’re still wearing peter parkers hoodie, but you don’t know it’s his.

flirting with the wall crawler on chicken shop date @kentluv3r

flirting with your guests is a regular on your youtube show… but flirting with SPIDER-MAN hits different, especially ‘cause he flirts right back!

spiderman x fem reader

personal fav !

spidey-sense off duty...! @fluttervoid

it takes one accidental elbow to the face to learn that spider-man, the guy who stares down bank robbers without blinking, cannot handle the sight of your blood without falling apart a little.

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 2.4k

need to know basis ! @flixpii

there are several, several things you know about the anonymous superhero who keeps ending up on your living-room couch. what his face looks like isn’t one of them.

peter parker x fem reader

word count : 1.7k

smut / mdni

occupational hazard @prettyglad

you're clumsy; peter parker has super human, spider senses. he'd catch seven hundred objects for you just because he loves you.

mcu peter parker x reader, clumsy!reader

word count : 2.2k

[covered-in-you-now]

Until you choose me - Part 20

TW : age gap, cheating, arguing, Ben ......... I have no words sorry 💔

Words : 4.5k

You stared at him. For one second, you genuinely wondered if you had heard him wrong. Then, Gator's legs seemed to also give out beneath him. He dropped to the floor beside the bed, both hands immediately disappearing into his hair.

“What the fuck did I do?” He said it again, quieter this time, to himself. Your mouth fell open.

“Are you fucking serious ? Gator !” He didn’t reply, you weren’t even sure he heard you. “You are fucking serious.” He pulled harder at his hair. Across from you, a strange sound escaped Ben. You looked at him, he had one hand over his mouth and his shoulders were shaking. At first, you thought he was crying again, then another sound came out, a laugh. You stare and Ben stared back at you with tears still streaming down his face before laughing again, a completely broken, hysterical sound.

“Oh my fucking God.” He wiped his face. “This is…” Another laugh interrupted him. “This is fucking unbelievable.” He shook his head, still laughing and crying simultaneously like a madman. He gestured vaguely toward his father sitting on the floor. “This is fucking insane, I’m sorry. ” He pressed both hands against his face. “I don't know why I'm fucking laughing.” Another sob escaped him and somehow turned into another laugh. “This is the worst fucking night of my life.”

You looked between them. Ben crying and laughing like he had completely lost his mind, Gator sitting on the carpet with his hands buried in his hair, staring at absolutely nothing and you standing half-dressed in the middle of a hotel room. The entire thing was so catastrophically fucked up that, from the outside, it probably would've been almost funny. You didn't find it funny at all though.

“Unbelievable.” You turned away and grabbed the rest of your clothes from beside the bed. That finally made Gator's eyes flick toward you. You pulled everything on quickly, movements sharp with anger.

“What are you doing ?” You ignored him, putting your jeans back on, shoes, jacket and shoving your bra into your purse, clearly not bothered to put it back on right now. “Hey.” Gator slowly pushed himself upright when he saw you getting dressed again. “Baby…”

“I wanna go home.” That did it, his entire expression changed as if someone had flipped a switch behind his eyes.

“What ?”

“I said I fucking want to go home.” You grabbed your phone from the nightstand while Gator stared at you. Then, the last several minutes seemed to replay across his face up until he said those fucking words. 

“Oh, fuck.” He got up. “No.” You headed toward the door. “Wait, baby wait.” Gator caught your arm but you ripped it out of his grip immediately.

“Don’t.” His hand dropped.

“I didn't mean it like that, I swear to God.”

“Really ? Because it sounded pretty fucking clear to me.”

“No, that's not…”

“You just stood there unable to even say whether you wanted to be with me.”

“I was overwhelmed.” You laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, so am I Gator ! But I can still answer a fucking question.”

“I know.”

“No, apparently you fucking don’t.” You grabbed the door handle. “I wanna go home.”

“Okay.” Gator nodded quickly, trying to think straight. “Okay, just…” You pulled the door open, then stopped. Fuck. You stared into the hallway and slowly turned around. 

“My car isn't here.” Gator was the one who drove you both here. You closed your eyes, wanting this fucking nightmare to end. “Perfect.” Ben made another strangled noise from the floor that might've been a laugh. You pointed at Gator. “Get your shit together, now.”

“I'm trying.”

“No, you're not.” You stepped toward him. “You're gonna get your fucking keys, you're gonna get in that fucking cruiser, and you're gonna fucking drive me home.” Gator looked at you but there was still something vacant behind his eyes, like his brain had reached capacity an hour ago and simply stopped accepting new information. “Gator, now !” He blinked.

“I…”

“I'll take you.” Both of you turned toward Ben. The laughter was gone as he wiped his face one last time before planting a hand against the bed and pushing himself to his feet. He looked awful, red eyes, wet cheeks, hair a mess but somehow, of the three people in that room, he suddenly looked the most functional. You stared at him, stunned.

“What ?”

“I'll drive you home.”

“No.” Your answer was immediate while Ben bent down and picked up his keys from the carpet.

“Why ?”

“Because I'm not asking you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I’m offering.” He shoved the keys into his pocket and wiped his cheek again. “I'm already here anyway. I need to get back too.”

“You've been crying for the last hour.”

“So have you.”

“That is not the point.” He looked toward Gator, and his expression hardened.

“And he needs to stay here.” His dad finally looked at him and Ben stared back. “Alone in the fucking doghouse.” He tried to open his mouth to argue but the son keep going, not giving him the chance to speak. “No.” His voice was exhausted rather than angry now. “You need to sit here and think.” Gator's jaw tightened and he looked away, realizing how everything was slowly falling apart around him. 

“About what ?” Ben actually laughed.

“Seriously ? Think about how you managed to fuck everything up again in less than five minutes.” He winced and his face fell.

“Ben.” Gator started as you stepped between them slightly.

“Enough.” you said, Ben looked at you and you softened your voice. “You don't have to take me home.”

“I know.”

“Seriously. After everything that just happened, I'm not getting into your car and making you drive me back to town.”

“Why not ?”

“Because that's insane.” Ben shrugged weakly.

“Everything tonight is insane don’t you think ?” Okay, touché, you couldn't argue with that.

“I can call someone.”

“Who ?” You opened your mouth but stopped. You couldn’t really call anyone right now. Ben raised his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

“I'll get an Uber.”

“From here ? It’s gonna cost two hundred bucks. Just let me take you.”

“I can't ask that of you.”

“I told you, you’re not asking. I said I'll take you.” His voice cracked slightly. Then,  quieter “Please.” You stared at him as he swallowed loudly. “I don't wanna stay here either.” That shut you up. Ben's eyes moved toward his father, looking at him like he was gum stuck to his shoe. “I really don't wanna be in the same room as him right now.” Gator looked like the words physically hurt, but Ben didn't seem to care. Then he looked back at you. “So let me drive you.”

“This is completely fucked up.”

“Yeah.” The smallest, saddest smile appeared on his face. “I think we passed completely fucked up about an hour ago.” Gator finally seemed to come fully back to himself.

“No.” You both looked at him, he was standing now and his face had changed completely. Panic had replaced the emptiness and he stepped toward you. “No, wait. Don't leave like this.”

“I'm not staying here Gator.”

“I know, but…” He looked between you and Ben. “Just give me five fucking minutes. I said something stupid.”

“You couldn't answer a fucking question.”

“I was watching my son fall apart ! For God fucking sake !”

“And what do you think I was doing ?” Your voice cracked despite your anger, feeling the burn behind your eyes. 

“You think this is fucking easy for me ?” He asked. 

“I just lost Ben !” Ben's face tightened hearing you say this, but you knew it was true. “I lose Charlotte’s friendship the second she finds out, Mia will probably kill me and everyone is going to fucking hate me.” Your eyes burned even more. “And I accepted all of that because I thought at the end of it, I had you.” Gator's face crumpled.

“Baby…”

“And then Ben asks if we're staying together…” You shook your head. “And you can't even fucking answer him.”

“I panicked.”

“Well, congratulations.” You wiped angrily beneath your eye. “Now I'm panicking too.” Gator stepped toward you but you stepped backward. Ben quietly picked up his jacket next to you, also wiping his eyes.

“I'll wait outside.” You looked at him.

“Ben…”

“Five minutes.” He said while looking toward Gator. “You wanted five minutes, right ?” Then his eyes returned to you. “I'll be by the car.” He headed toward the door. As he passed his father, he stopped but didn't look at him. “Figure out what the fuck you actually want before you destroy anybody else.” Then Ben walked out, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with Gator. 

You stood beside the bed with your purse hanging from your shoulder, arms crossed tightly over your chest while Gator stared at the closed door, then at you. “Baby… just listen to me.” He dragged both hands over his face. “I wasn't saying I regretted you.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“I don't.”

“Then why the fuck couldn't you answer him ?” He stepped closer.

“No, that's not…”

“Then explain it.” His jaw tightened, slightly irritated that you were cutting him off. For a moment, he looked toward the door, toward where Ben had disappeared, then back at you.

“Because saying yes while he was sitting there fucking crying felt cruel. He's sitting on the fucking floor asking if we're gonna stay together after finding out his girlfriend's been with his father.” His voice cracked slightly. “What was I supposed to do ? Look him in the eye and say yeah ? Yeah, Ben. We're staying together. Sorry you're fucking devastated, but I'm keeping her ?” He shook his head. “I couldn't do that to him.”

Part of you understood, but you hated that part because the rest of you was still fucking furious. “So instead you looked at me like you'd just realized you'd ruined your entire life.”

“I didn’t…”

“You literally said what the fuck did I do, Gator.”

“I was talking about everything !”

“And I'm part of everything !”

“I know for fuck’s sake !” His voice rose then immediately dropped again. “I know baby.” You shook your head.

“You don't get out of this that easily.” You pointed toward the door. “You're explaining it like it was some noble fucking thing because Ben was crying.”

“It wasn't noble.”

“Then what was it ?”

“I told you I fucking panicked !”

“So did I !” Gator stopped when he saw the tears running down your cheeks. “I just watched someone I care about completely fucking collapse because of something we did and somehow I still knew the answer to his question.” His eyes dropped, that one silenced him. “I didn't have to think about whether I wanted you or not Gator.” His eyes immediately became glassy.

“I do want you baby.”

“You should've said that before.”

“I love you.” His voice was breaking, making your chest tighten. 

“You should've said that before too.” He stepped toward you.

“Jesus Christ, I fucking love you.” You looked away. “You are the only good fucking thing that's ever happened to me.” Your eyes snapped back toward him.

“Don't put that on me right now.”

“I'm not putting anything on you.” He was crying now, just like you. “I'm just telling you the truth.” He pressed a hand against his chest. “I fucked up, I know I fucked up. I saw him on that floor and my fucking brain stopped working, but none of that means I don't want you.” You shook your head.

“I need space.” Panic appeared instantly on his face.

“No. No, baby.” He moved toward you. “Don't do that to me. Don't leave me.” Your anger faltered for a second, he looked actually terrified. “Please.”

“I'm not saying I'm leaving you.”

“Then stay.” He whispered. 

“I can't.”

“Why ?”

“Because I don't understand what just happened.” His face crumpled.

“I explained that…”

“I heard you.” You softened slightly. “But I still need to process it.”

“Please don't leave me.” You closed your eyes. “Please.” His voice broke. “I'll fix it.”

“I don't need you to fix anything tonight.” You replied, trying not to fall apart too. 

“Then what do you need baby ? Tell me.”

“To go home.” He looked devastated. “At least for tonight. You'll see me at the station tomorrow anyway.” His eyes searched yours.

“At work ? You promise ?”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly and you turned around, walking toward the door. 

“Baby.” You looked back and Gator stood in the middle of the room, tears running down his face.

“I'm sorry.” You nodded, and left. 

 

Ben was leaning against his Charger when you reached the parking lot, arms crossed, head tilted slightly back staring at absolutely nothing. He didn't look toward you until you were almost beside him. “You done ?”

“Yeah.” Ben pushed himself away from the car.

“Get in.” You hesitated when he opened the driver's door. “Before I change my mind.” You climbed into the passenger seat when Ben started the engine. He pulled out of the hotel parking lot and almost ten minutes passed in complete silence while you stared out the window.

“This is fucking awkward.” He said finally, and you turned toward him but he kept staring straight ahead. Something escaped you, a tiny laugh and Ben's mouth twitched. Then he laughed too, and suddenly, neither of you could stop. Ben started laughing so hard he had to wipe beneath his eyes. “Oh my fucking God.”

“This isn't funny.”

“I know.” You laughed harder as he shook his head.

“This is so fucked. My girlfriend and my fucking dad.” You groaned.

“Ben, please.” That sent him over the edge again. For nearly a minute, the two of you laughed like complete lunatics. Eventually, it faded and the silence returned, but it felt different now. Still painful, but just slightly less suffocating. A few minutes later, Ben spoke.

“I have questions, and I want actual answers.” Your stomach tightened.

“Okay.” You looked toward him.

“No bullshit.” Several seconds passed, like he was trying to find which one to ask first. “Did you ever love me ?” You hadn't expected him to start there.

“Yes.” Ben glanced at you.

“But ?” You looked down.

“Not the way you want me to.” His eyes returned to the road as he nodded.

“Okay.” No argument, no anger, he just accepted your answer. Another few miles disappeared beneath the headlights. “Was I just a way to make him jealous ?” Fuck, you stared ahead.

“At first ? Yes.” Ben's jaw tightened but he nodded again. 

“Right.”

“But…”

“You said no bullshit.” He cut you off. 

“I'm not bullshitting you.” You turned toward him. “At first, yeah, I knew it'd bother him and  a sick part of me liked that. But then I actually liked being around you. I liked talking to you, going places with you. You made me laugh and you were good to me.” His expression twisted.

“Apparently not good enough.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” He sighed and the silence returned again. 

“Can I ask you something fucked up ?” You almost laughed.

“Yeah, go on.” He hesitated.

“What does he have that I don’t ?” You went still, your heart breaking a little more. “No, seriously, I’m a Tillman too.”

“That's not…”

“We've got the same fucking face half the time, like, I’m literally him twenty years younger.” His expression became serious again. “What does he have that I don’t ?”

“There's nothing wrong with you.”

“That wasn't my question.” He replied, you shifted in your seat, unsure what to say. 

“It doesn't work like that.”

“Why ?”

“Because I didn't make a fucking checklist.” Ben glanced toward you. “Gator has this, Ben doesn't, point for Gator.”

“Then explain it to me.” You looked out the windshield. How the fuck were you supposed to explain something you barely understood yourself ? “It's different.”

“Great explanation.”

“Shut up.” Amazingly, his mouth twitched. “With him… I don't know. There's just something there, like a connection, something I can't switch off even when I really fucking wish I could.” Ben stared ahead. “It doesn't mean he's better than you.”

“Feels like it.”

“He isn’t.” You rubbed your forehead. “See ? This is why I didn't want to answer. You're both completely different people.”

“Unfortunately, we're really not.”

“Ben.” You sighed. “It's not about you missing something, you didn't fail some test. You didn't need to be funnier or smarter or hotter or whatever the fuck you're thinking. I just…” You searched for the right words. “I fell for him.” Ben swallowed.

“And you didn't fall for me.”

“Not the same way.” You whispered, and he nodded. 

“Right.” You hated how small his voice sounded.

“I'm sorry.” Another silence stretched before he spoke again. 

“I can't be pissed at you.” You frowned but he kept staring at the road. “I keep trying. I've been trying since I opened that fucking door.” His eyes started shining again. “I should hate you.” He laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it. “You lied to me, you used me to make my damn dad jealous, you cheated on me with him.” His voice started breaking again. “You let me tell you I loved you and you let me plan a fucking apartment around you.” A tear rolled down his cheek, he wiped it away angrily. “And I still can't fucking hate you. I can't even stay mad. What the fuck is wrong with me ?” You turned toward him.

“Ben, nothing is wrong with you.”

“Then why am I driving you home ? Why did I let you hold me there ? And why the fuck did it make me feel better ?” You looked down.

“I don't know.”

“Me neither.” He laughed weakly. “I should've walked out, should've told both of you to go fuck yourselves.”

“You would've had every right to do so.”

“I know.” His grip tightened around the steering wheel. “But then I look at you…” He stopped, another tear running down his face. “And you're still you, that’s the problem.” He glanced toward you for barely a second. “I know what you did, I know how fucked up it is and I know I should be fucking furious. But my brain hasn't figured out how to turn you into somebody I hate yet.”

“Ben, you don’t need to …” 

“I still look at you and see the person I was in love with yesterday.” His voice cracked. “And I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to make that stop.”

Ben didn't say anything for a long time after that, and neither did you. Eventually, his breathing settled again, and the occasional tears stopped slipping down his cheeks. “I don't wanna be alone tonight.” You turned toward him.

“Do you want me to text Charlotte for you ?” You asked. 

“No.” His eyes stayed on the road. “She would ask why I'm like this.” Right, she definitely would. Silence settled between you again, then Ben shifted slightly behind the wheel. “Stay with me.” Your head turned.

“What ?”

“Tonight. Just stay at my apartment.”

“Ben…”

“I don't wanna be alone.”

“I know, but I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Probably isn’t.” He gave a tiny laugh. “Nothing I've done tonight has been a particularly good idea.” You looked down at your hands.

“I don't think me being there is gonna help.”

“Please. You kinda owe me this.” Ben said, and immediately grimaced. “That sounded shitty, sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that.”

“No.” You sighed. “It's true.” After everything you'd done, after everything he'd learned tonight, if the only thing he was asking from you was not to leave him alone with his own thoughts…

“Okay. I'll stay.” His shoulders dropped slightly.

“Thank you.” You nodded, and neither of you said anything else.

By the time Ben pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, the exhaustion had really started setting in. You followed him upstairs as he unlocked the door.

The apartment looked exactly as it had the last time you'd been there, except now it felt completely different. Your eyes involuntarily moved toward the hallway, toward the bedroom he'd shown you and toward the empty space he'd deliberately left for you. He closed the door behind you.

“So, this is…”

“Fucking awkward ?” You finished his sentence, and his mouth twitched.

“I was gonna say weird.”

“Fucking awkward covers it.”

“Yeah.” He dropped his keys onto the counter. “I'll sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s your apartment, so I'm taking the couch.”

“No, you’re not sleeping on my couch.”

“Why ?”

“Because you're my guest. Under extremely fucked-up circumstances, but still my guest.” He actually almost smiled. “So I'm sleeping on the couch.”

“No.”

“Yes I am.”

“Ben, you don’t…”

“I have a cast.” You blinked, confused.

“What does that have to do with anything ?”

“I don't know.” He looked down at it while shrugging. “Thought it'd win me sympathy.” He actually managed to pull a real laugh out of you. Ben grabbed a blanket from a chair. “I’m taking the couch.” You sighed.

“Fine, but if your back hurts tomorrow, I don't wanna hear shit about it.”

“Deal.” He disappeared into the kitchen while you stood awkwardly in the living room, suddenly having absolutely no idea what to do with yourself. A minute later, Ben returned with two glasses of water, handing one out to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You took it and his fingers brushed yours.

“I can drive you to work tomorrow.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.” You took a sip. “I'll take you.”

“Thanks.” He nodded, then looked down at his casted arm again.

“Oh. I get this fucking thing off tomorrow by the way.”

“Finally ? That's good.”

“Yeah.” He lifted the cast slightly. “I'm so fucking sick of it, you have no idea.”

“You'll feel so much better without it.” He rotated his shoulder. 

“Probably gonna feel weird as hell at first.” You nodded, clearly unsure why you were making small talks with your ex boyfriend who had just found out you were fucking his dad. Then, Ben's expression slowly changed. “I have one more question.”

“Okay.” Ben set his glass down and rubbed his good hand over his face before looking at you.

“Is that why you never wanted to sleep with me ? Like I mean, really sleep with me ?” Your stomach twisted again.

“Yeah.” He stared at the floor then rubbed both hands over his face.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Ben…”

“I thought there was something wrong with me.” Your heart sank when he laughed weakly. “I thought you weren't attracted to me or something, or I was doing something wrong.”

“No, Ben.”

“I kept thinking maybe I was pushing too much. But I didn’t understand cause you still sucked me off multiples times and I just …” He shook his head, trailing off.  “Then I'd back off because I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. And then nothing would change, so I'd think… I don't know, that maybe you just didn't want me like that.”

“Ben, there was never anything wrong with you.” He laughed bitterly again. “I'm sorry.” He picked up the blanket and nodded toward the hallway.

“You take the bedroom.”

“You sure ?”

“Yeah.” He gave you a tired look. “I'll be fine.” You slowly stood and Ben followed you to the bedroom door but stopped in the hallway. “If you need anything… water, another blanket. Whatever.” He shoved one hand into his pocket. “Just come get me.”

“Okay.” A small silence settled between you before you gave him a faint smile. “Goodnight, Ben.” He nodded.

“Night, bunny.” Both of you froze, Ben’s expression changed immediately. The nickname had slipped out before he'd even realized what he was saying. His lips parted and for a second, it looked like he might take it back, apologize and say he didn’t mean it. Instead, his eyes dropped and he quietly pulled the bedroom door shut between you.

You stood there staring at it. On the other side, Ben remained motionless for several seconds before finally walking back toward the couch.

You could hear Ben moving around faintly on the other side of the wall, probably trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. You took off most of your clothes and crawled beneath the covers. You reached for your phone and you noticed Gator had texted you. 

Gator : I meant what I said. You're the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me. I love you. I know I fucked up tonight and I know you need space. I'm gonna give it to you. But please don't go to sleep thinking for one second that I don't want you. I do, I fucking do baby

You read the text again and again, but decided not to respond. You dropped it beside you and rolled onto your back. A few seconds later, you glanced toward the battery icon, nine percent. “Fuck.” You pushed yourself back up, maybe Ben had left a charger in here. Nothing was plugged into the wall, so you leaned over, looking behind the nightstand, nothing.

There was a drawer, you hesitated before opening it anyway. Inside, there was a spare apartment key, and hanging from it was the stupidest, cutest little bunny keychain you'd ever seen. There was something underneath, a folded piece of paper with your name was written across the front. You unfolded it and Ben's handwriting covered barely half the page.

Bunny, If you're reading this, I'm assuming you said yes. I know this is probably way too fast and I know I've been driving you crazy asking about it, but I don't think you understand how happy I am that you actually want to do this with me.

The words blurred as your eyes filled with tears. 

I bought you the stupid bunny because apparently I've committed to the nickname now, so you're stuck with it. This key is yours, not mine that I'm letting you borrow, yours. You can come home whenever you want. You never have to ask. You never have to knock. If I'm here, if I'm not here, if we're pissed at each other, whatever, it’s your home too now. I left the other room empty because I meant what I said. Make it whatever you want, closet, vanity, office, all three if you can somehow fit that much shit in there. I don't care. 

And I know you were worried this was happening too fast, maybe it is. But I've never been this sure about anything before.

A tear landed directly on the paper. You wiped it away immediately, terrified of ruining the ink.

I love you more than I know how to explain without sounding like a complete fucking idiot, and I'm really fucking happy you're here. Welcome home, bunny,  I love you Ben 

You could only stare at the little bunny keychain and think about the man sleeping on the couch in his own apartment because, even after you broke his heart, he still gave you his bed.

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[jorkingtodjo]

Oh okay cs like yeah I uhmm the fingers like yeah bro the sweat yeah okay.

[scoopstroopog]

"mike was the first person to treat el with kindness and like a human being"

put some respect on his fucking name please

[harringtonsdiary]

[djospurnell]

i love tummy i love tummy i love tummy

[djospurnell]

GET OUT