Show 10 movies without telling the title and tag 10 others!! @nosebeers @tuttimcfrutti @gatorgirlie @thedriftingmind @the-crux-of-it @digitalxcandle @redvelvetcupcke1 @djob00bies @piece0fgarbag @mariasont (if you did this already ignore it ok..)
hellooo i saw your request on frankenkyleâs acc about the cherry perfume and i have one thatâs smells like stepped out a cherry and itâs cheap. Cherry Baby by Sabrina Carpenter, really yummy! thereâs two sizes the smaller ones last me like 8-9 months and theyâre pretty long lasting i wear it like every day. i think itâs like 15-20 bucks or so! đ
Thatâs actually so helpful ty party if I sound sarcastic
The North Dakota wind is howling against the siding of the Sheriffâs station, but the air inside is colder. Itâs 2:00 AM, and the building is a tombâempty, save for you, the endless paperwork piling up, and the man leaning against the doorframe, watching you like a predator stalks a snare.
Gator Tillman. Deputy of the year in his own mind, and a complete, arrogant nightmare to everyone else.
You donât look up. You know the exact weight of his gaze. You can feel it on your neck, the prickling sensation of his intense, unchecked need for control. Youâve been butting heads with him since the day you started here, him acting like heâs the Sheriff himself, and you... youâre just the only person who hasnât learned to fear him yet.
"Working late?" he drawls. His voice isn't soft. Itâs clipped, authoritative, and drips with that specific brand of entitlement he wears like armor.
"I have work to do, Gator. Go home to your daddy," you snap, finally meeting his eyes.
He pushes off the doorframe, moving into your space with the predatory grace of someone who carries a gun and knows exactly how to use it. He doesn't respect the desk. He doesn't respect your personal space. He shoves a stack of files aside with his forearm, his badge catching the harsh overhead light, and he leans over you until youâre trapped between the swivel chair and the mahogany edge of the station desk.
"Don't talk about him," he growls, his hand shooting out to grip the back of your chair, anchoring you.
His eyes are dark, frantic, and swirling with a cocktail of rage and attraction he clearly doesn't know how to handle. Heâs jealous of the time you spend here, of the way you look at the evidence boards instead of him, of the way you don't bow down to his name.
"Youâre obsessed with me, aren't you?" he whispers, leaning down until his lips are brushing against the shell of your ear. He smells like cheap coffee, stale cigarettes, and the bitter scent of authority. "Trying to prove youâre better than me. Trying to get under my skin."
"You have a very thin skin, Gator," you counter, though your voice shakes.
He doesn't like that. He hates it. He grabs your jaw, his fingers digging in with a sharp, possessive pressure that demands your full attention. He doesn't kiss you with sweetness; he kisses you like heâs making an arrest, like heâs claiming jurisdiction over every inch of you. Itâs hard, messy, and frantic. The kind of kiss that isn't about affection, but about conquest.
Heâs not waiting for an invitation. His other hand drops to your belt, his movements clinical and aggressive. Heâs treating this like a power play, and God help you, the toxic, desperate chemistry is impossible to fight.
He hikes you up onto the edge of the desk, the scattered papers sliding and falling to the floor. Heâs between your legs before you can even register the shift in balance, his uniform trousers rough against your skin, his gun belt pressing hard into your stomach. A constant, heavy reminder of who he is and what he represents.
"You're not doing this for the job," he rasps, his hands sliding up your thighs, his grip bruising. "You're doing it because you want to see if you can break me."
"I think I already have," you breathe, pulling him closer by the collar of his uniform shirt.
He makes a sound, half-snarl, half-gasp and crashes his mouth onto yours again. Itâs violent. Itâs intense. Itâs everything youâve been denying yourselves for months of shouting matches and petty sabotage. Heâs taking everything youâve got, leaving no room for argument, no room for anyone else.
In the middle of the station, under the buzzing, sterile lights, he reminds you exactly who is in charge. And for once, you don't even try to fight him for the win.
hi! i know you just did a gator fic so i hope its okay iâm requesting for him!
Mail Service: FedEx
Delivery: Gator Tillman
Box Size: Medium (friends to lovers if you could please)
Wrapping: No wrapping
Address: Uptown
i hope this makes sense! thank you!
Trapped Together: Gator x youđȘ
The silence that stretches between you isnât heavyâitâs thick with everything youâve both been too scared to name out loud for months. The rain lashes against the siding outside, a chaotic rhythm that only makes the living room feel more like a sanctuary, a secret space created just for the two of you.
Gatorâs hand doesnât drop away from your face. Instead, his thumb brushes tentatively over your cheekbone, a gesture so gentle it makes your breath hitch in your throat. Heâs looking at you with that guarded intensity finally melting away, replaced by a raw, unfiltered vulnerability that makes your chest ache in the best possible way.
"I've been wanting to do that since the moment I walked through the door," he murmurs, his voice barely a rasp over the sound of the storm. "And probably for about six months before that, too."
You let out a shaky laugh, the kind that feels like a confession of its own. "Six months? Is that all?"
He chuckles, a low, vibration that you can feel against your own skin. He shifts, closing the last bit of distance between you, his other hand coming up to rest on your hip, pulling you just slightly closer until there is absolutely nowhere else for you to go. Heâs solid, warm, and real. The same Gator whoâs been your best friend, your sounding board, and your constant, but suddenly, heâs so much more.
"Okay, maybe a little longer," he admits, dropping his forehead to rest against yours.
The air in the room feels different now. The shift from "friends" to "everything" is happening in the space of a heartbeat. It isn't scary; it feels like coming home. You reach up, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him that final fraction of an inch until your lips brush against his. Itâs soft, sweet, and slow⊠an invitation.
When he kisses you back, it tastes like coffee and patience. Itâs not hurried, itâs not demanding; itâs just the natural progression of two people who have been orbiting each other for far too long, finally finding their gravity.
The storm can keep raging outside for all you care. The world can keep spinning, the roads can stay flooded, and the power can stay out. As long as the couch is still here and Gator is still holding you like youâre the only thing keeping him anchored, youâre exactly where you want to be.
Leather & Lace: Chapter sixteen
The only exception
18+ MDNI NSFW
Warnings: oral (f receiving), cum play, spit play, accidental touching (p on v), mentions of killing, violence, some fluff!
wc: 2.3k :( haven't had a ton of time - so so sorry
Yours. His.
What did that even look like? He already was the one who orchestrated out all of your desires. He already warmed your bed at night. He already was the name you whispered under your breath while coming undone in private. He was the one who would cross the ocean for you if you asked him to, devoted to you - devotion unmatched, in ways youâve never seen. He was the one floating in the back of your mind every time another manâs hands were on you, biting your lip to hold in his name.Â
What else did you need for him to be yours and you to be his? You were already his. He haunted your home. He burned himself into your life, and you willingly took the sting.Â
From the moment his eyes first locked onto yours, you might as well have prematurely answered him-
âIâm yours.â
You knew it, he knew it - no point in hiding.Â
He pulled back, almost afraid to leave the moment but he needed the confirmation away from the passion between the two of you. You looked like Heaven in human form, hair flowing over your shoulders, soft pink nightgown gathered at you waist - exposing your innocence⊠you innocence completely coated in him.
He felt like he couldnât breath, couldnât move on until he really knew.
âBaby, I mean it - I want you to be mine. Youâre already my best friend. Hell - youâre my whole fuckin world⊠lets just be honest.â, he pulled your face into his hands.
You breath escaped you. This wasnât some sweet nothings after a passionate moment, no, this seems pulled apart and exposed - like his heart pulled from his chest and given to its rightful owner.
He continued, âI know that I can give you what you deserve. Youâd never have to look over your shoulder again. Youâd never want for nothinâ, baby. This whole fuckin town already sees you as mine anyways, might as well make it official and make me yours.â
Speechless wasnât really the word, breathless? Out of body experience? Gator Tillman, your best friend, asking to be yours.
âLike your girlfriend?â
âYeah, baby - worst part is, we aint gotta change shit.â, he giggled out.
âYou donât do girlfriendsâŠâ, in all your time with him - never once. No one even made him smile.
âI think you might be my exception.â
There was a pause, you paused - you thought, maybe too hard, too longâŠ
âHey⊠if a label freaks you out - then thats okay, we can keep doin it how we hav-â
âGator⊠babyâŠ.â, you laughed out, placing your hands on his face, matching his own movements.
Your eyes locked onto his, and youâve never felt anything like it. The fire burning under your fingertips, his glossy eyes glowing in the low lights of the kitchen.Â
You inhale sharply, scared to actually speak. Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you give your deputy a soft nod.
Gator froze instantly, as if his entire life just changed. He had felt this feeling only once before.
The day he pulled you over.
Shaking his head slowly, gathering all the information to make sure he got his facts straight he stared into your eyes.
âWait, okay so⊠really? Youâre my girlfriend now? Like Im your boyfriend. Weâre together.â
You couldnât help but let out a belly rumbling laugh, he just went on for serval minutes about making you his girlfriend and now he is shocked that you said yes - this motherfucker.Â
âYes, Gator bug. We are together.â, you whispered in confirmation.Â
His eyes flashed before you, and for once, they seemed unreadable.Â
Something new, something that youâre not sure if he even has seen for himself. It looked like he had just created a plan, it was as if he reassembled the life he was given and was going to make it into a beautiful centerpiece at your table. Simple, sure - proof. Your feelings for his were not a dream.
There was silence, the only noises being from the screen door dancing with the flutters of wind and the symphony of crickets and frogs singing outside.Â
âMine.â, he pulled your lips to him gently, slow.
âMineâŠâ, you echoed onto his lips.
The moment felt like velvet, like silk on freshly shaven skin. Heat between you both, his hands leave your face and return to your plush thighs. You feel his fingers digging in, what a privilege it would be to be bruised by his love. His love? Love⊠Youâre in-
âBaby⊠let me taste you. I miss it. Would be a pretty great first moment as your boyfriend- just sayinâŠâ
You swatted at his hands on your thighs, giving him a laugh.
âIm a mess! You do realize that yo-â
âLet me lick myself off you.â, he growled.
Oh-
His lip gathered between his teeth, eyes turning dark - hungry.
âOkayâ, you whisper. What the fuck are you supposed to say to that?
Gator wastes no time, he drops to his knees there in the kitchen causing the coffee mugs to rattle and ring. His big hands drag you to the edge, cupping his arms overtop of each thigh. His breath sending waves over your heat.Â
He brushes his nose up against your clit, smearing himself on his face. The sight alone had our legs shaking again, you were still sensitive and now this? His tongue flattened against your entrance and you bucked up, making his squeeze your thighs in his big strong arms. Eyes locked onto your face, he dragged his tongue up slowly up. Along the way, he gathered the intoxicating mixture of your finish and his intertwined. Before he could get to your sensitive clit, he had gathered all of the white milky bubbles onto his tongue and had a surge of curiosity.
Would you find it disgusting? Would you beg for more?
He was willing to take the risk.
Pulling himself off the floor, he grabbed your jaw - your eyes opening wide.
You opened your mouth from his grip on you, and you knew right then and there what he was about to do.
Fuck.
You laid out your fucking tongue like a plate.
He was so fucked up from his hand being on your jaw and your tongue sticking out that he nearly swallowed the mixture.
Once he knew you were obeying, he slid his hand from your jaw back to your hair - pulling slightly and angling your mouth to meet his.
Opening his mouth, he let all the mixture slide off of his tongue and onto your own - you let out a whine as you took every last drop.
Before you could even swallow, his mouth was back on you. Your tongues splashed around in your finishes, as if they were skinny dipping and your connect mouth was the pool. Saliva adding into the slippery cocktail, you could get drunk off of his mouth.Â
Greedy for the filth, you grab as much of the liquid as you can, and swallow - leaving him with the leftovers. You pull back ever so slightly and mumble against his lips -
âMy man.â
Without hesitation, he pulled your body flush against his.
Thats when you felt it. Stilling himself, Gator must have felt it too. The blazing heat of his tip, sliding up against your wetness - perfect luck. Your breath got heavy, unable to move with his arms still around your thighs. He dared not shift, he wasnât going to risk hurting you. The doctors said you would be sore. He couldnât let you be in that kind of pain during your first time.
Both of you sharing the same breath, realization kicking in of how close everything is - one of you pulls back, while the other leans in. He steps out of your legs, releasing your thighs.
A bright white flash floods over the living room and slides into the kitchen, coating the backside of your body - causing you to look even more Heavenly to your man.
âWho the f-â, his eyes whipping to the clock on the stove, âWho the fuck is coming here at 9:08pm in the fuckin night?â
You couldnât help it - that made you giggle, sending a glare your way.
âSorry, its just- like thats a bit redundant. Like you could say pm or at night, but it means the sa-â
âBaby, I fuckin know.â, he huffed, still confused at the random drop in.
You slide off the counter, your slip dress sliding down the tops of your thighs. You tried to ignore the fact that you had to squeeze your thighs together in order to keep all the juices inside rather that letting it run down your legs.
The mysterious drop in knocks three times rapidly, you rounded the kitchen counter to head across the creaky wood floors. His wrist catches you before you could make it to the living room.
âAre you out of your fuckin mind, woman? Look at ya.âÂ
He did have a point, you had bed head, a spit and cum mixture dripping down your silky nightgown, nipples peaking, and you literally could hear gushing in between your legs - there were only two places that you should be:
In the shower to get cleaned up
In bed, making an even bigger mess with your boyfriend
You watched as he began crossing the living room, snagging a blanket from the couch and flinging it at you without even looking back. Wapping the warmth around your body, you ice skated in your slippers back into the kitchen. You leaned onto the counters, and looked underneath the row of cabinets that looked out into the rest of the house. He reached the door and tugged it open.
Wouldnât you know.
âDo you have a fuckin death wish?â, Gator laughed out, though he didnât find this very funny. Especially considering that you were seconds away from opening the door, completely absentmindedly of your appearance. Made him wonder if anything else happened while he was gone.
âKaren made dinner and told me to bring you both over some. Roy said you would probably be staying here-â, Wade began.
âDamn right, I am. Ever wonder why that fuckin mattress in the apartment is so stiff? Cause its brand fuckin new - probably slept on it less than 20 times since I got it. Always here. Always will be here.â Gator stated.Â
Ahhhh, the pissing wars have begun.
ââAlways will be hereâ⊠ya know, thats interesting! I donât remember you finding her in the middle of the night and cutting her out of her car, wiping the blood from her face - but I do remember her mumbling your name! You werenât there!â
Gator ticked. A bomb, ready.
âOr or, what about when she got wasted one night and almost went home with some random guy at the bar - did you stop her, sober her up with some Wendyâs and get her home safe and sound? Nope! You werenât here - that was me⊠and what about at the ranch? When Roy started asking her about when she was going to settle down and marry, have babies - you know, normal woman stuff, according to Roy. Were you there to defend her and praise her career? No! You were not here, Gator - you are not always here. But me? I have been here the past month - give me a fuckin break, cuz. You donât have to like it, but its the truth.â
Gator didnât waste a second, he stepped out the door - shutting it behind him so you couldnât bear witness. Before he could even react, Wade had been pushed off of the front porch and his back was slammed onto the grass - Gator holding him down with one knee.Â
One swing, blood - lip split.
âYou do have a death wish, huh?! Wanna keep running that fuckin mouth and see what happens, Wade?â, he started, âYeah, I wasnât here for the car accident - but I fuckin risked my entire future to run to her! Im surprised my dad didnât shoot me dead because of it!â
His eyes were wild, glowing darkly in the fairy lights hung across your porch that Gator hung for you. Wade tried to shift underneath him, but wasnât able to budge.
Another swing, Gators knuckles bleed.
Continuing on, âAnd youâre gonna talk to me about keeping creeps away from her? Thats my entire fuckin job. I have steered damn near every single man in this entire county off her - she donât make it easier neither. Killed a couple of em for her and I will do it again in a heartbeat, you hear me? You need to be next, huh? You fucking came on her and kissed her like a fucking creep - why shouldnât I put a bullet in you, huh? Huh! Why the fuck shouldnât I? I killed one of the guys just for following her to the bathrooms - he didnât even have a chance to touch her!â He spat out.
Wade shoot under him, drooling blood.
Gator began to laugh, it was evil - tormented.
âAnd Roy⊠Roy would marry this girl if it werenât for Karen being decent. He wants her to have the Tillman name more than anythin, and hell, mâhappy to obligeâ, voice as strong as whiskey and as deep as the river, âAnd there aint no one, not even another fuckin Tillman, gettin in my way again⊠got it?â
Gator jerked Wades head forward and then slammed in back into the grass.
âG-Got it. Yeah, sorryâ, Wade fumbled with his words, still squirming under Gators knee.
Gator shifted, lifting his knee and causing Wade to take a deep breath in.
âYou know exactly why you were brought here. Keep me on my toes to get the work done. Thats all. Youâre job here is done Wadey boy - run on home.â
Wade lifts himself slowly, shifting to his knees before standing upright.
âGator, she is special. I saw it. I wanted it - whats the harm in wanting someone?â, Wade grunts out, still catching his breath - ribs sore.
âBecause you wanted someone that belongs to me.â
Hi! I was wondering what brushes you use on ibis paint x?
Hello!! Yes I am back and I will get to writing trust. Anyways! I use custom brushes. Iâll send the QR codes! One is called âDry chalkâ. I use this for base colors or outlining. The other is called âWater Chalkâ that one is basically like watercolor just with the dry chalk texture.
After exams⊠Iâll be back! This is my last post. Iâll post when I can but it wonât be much bc of studying. I have most of my fics scheduled so itâs okay!
So just be ready after 5-6 weeks for some INSANE drops ok
đ SUMMARY: Loving Gator Tillman was never going to be easyâbut you didnât expect it to feel like a constant push and pull between wanting him and needing space from him. When a simple argument spirals into something sharper, uglier, the truth starts slipping out in ways neither of you can control. Jealousy, frustration, and too many unsaid things finally collide⊠and the question isnât whether you care about each other. Itâs whether thatâs enough to fix whatâs breaking.
____________________________________________
The front door slams harder than it needs to. You donât flinch. You stopped flinching a while ago.
âDonât start,â Gator says immediately, voice sharp, already defensive like he walked in expecting a fight.
You lean against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. âI didnât say anything.â
âYeah, well, you were about to.â
There it is.
That push. That constant assumption that everything between you has to turn into something ugly.
You let out a quiet breath through your nose. âYou wanna tell me where youâve been?â
Gator laughsâbut thereâs no humor in it. Just irritation. âOut.â
âOut where?â
He shrugs, tossing his keys onto the table like the sound might shut the conversation down. âDoes it matter?â
âYes,â you snap, pushing off the counter. âIt does matter, Gator. You disappear for hours and then walk in here acting like Iâm the problem for asking?â
âI am saying that,â he shoots back, stepping closer. âYou act like I owe you a report every time I leave the house.â
âYou act like you donât care enough to give one.â
That lands.
You see it. Just for a second. That flicker in his expression. Something defensive shifting into something sharper.
âOh, I donât care?â he repeats, quieter now, but worse. âThat what you think?â
You hesitate.
And that hesitation is all it takes.
He huffs out a breath, running a hand through his hair, pacing once like heâs trying to burn off the frustration sitting under his skin.
âYou were real friendly earlier,â he mutters.
You blink. âWhat?â
âAt the bar,â he says, not looking at you. âThought I wouldnât notice?â
It clicks.
âOh my god,â you breathe, almost laughingâbut thereâs no humor in it either. âYouâre serious right now?â
âYou were all over him.â
âI was talking to him.â
âYou were laughing.â
You stare at him, disbelief settling heavy in your chest. âIâm allowed to laugh, Gator.â
âNot like that.â
Something in you snaps. âNot likeâwhat does that even mean?â you demand, stepping closer now, matching his energy. âYou donât get to decide how I act around other people just because youâre in a bad mood.â
âItâs not a bad mood,â he fires back. âItâs called paying attention.â
âNo, itâs called being jealous.â
Silence.
Heavy. Thick.
His jaw tightens.
âYeah,â he says finally. âMaybe I am.â
You werenât expecting that. For a second, the fight loses its footing.
But then he keeps going. âMaybe I donât like the way he was looking at you,â Gator adds, voice low. âMaybe I donât like that you didnât shut it down.â
âI didnât shut it down because there was nothing to shut down!â you argue. âNot everything is a threat, Gator!â
âIt is when it comes to you.â
That stops you. Not in a good way.
In a way that makes your chest ache.
âDo you hear yourself?â you ask, softer now. âDo you even hear how that sounds?â
He doesnât answer. He just looks at youâfrustrated, conflicted, like heâs trying to say something but doesnât know how without it coming out wrong.
âThatâs not healthy,â you continue, shaking your head. âYou donât trust me.â
âI do trust you.â
âNo, you donât,â you say, voice breaking just slightly. âBecause if you did, we wouldnât be having this conversation every time I talk to someone else.â
âThatâs not fair.â
âNeither is this!â
Your voice echoes a little in the space between you.
Both of you breathing heavier now. Too close. Too much.
âIâm not him,â you add, quieter. âWhoever hurt you before⊠whatever made you think like this, itâs not me.â
His expression shifts again. There it is. That crack in the armor.
âI know that,â he mutters.
âThen act like it.â
The words hang there.
Sharp. Final.
For a second, you think heâs going to argue again, push back, twist it into something else.
But he doesnât. Instead, he looks⊠tired.
Gator exhales, shoulders dropping slightly, some of the fight leaving him all at once. âI donât like it,â he admits, quieter now. âThe idea of someone elseââ
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening.
You donât interrupt this time.
âI donât like feeling like I could lose you,â he finishes, barely above a whisper.
That hurts more than the yelling did. Because itâs honest. And messy. And real.
You soften, just a little. âIâm not something youâre gonna lose because I smiled at someone,â you say gently. âBut you might lose me if you keep treating me like Iâm already halfway out the door.â
That hits. Harder than anything else. He looks at you like he didnât expect that. Like he didnât realize it had gotten that far. Silence settles againâbut this time, itâs different. Less explosive. More⊠fragile.
Gator steps closer, slower now. Careful in a way he wasnât before. âI donât know how to do this right,â he admits. âNot⊠without messing it up.â
You swallow.
âThen stop trying to control it,â you say softly. âJust⊠be honest with me.â
He studies your face, like heâs searching for something. Permission, maybe. Or reassurance. When he finds it, his shoulders ease just slightly.
âI get jealous,â he says. âI get in my head and I think the worst thing possible and then I come in here already mad about it.â
A small, sad smile tugs at your lips. âYeah. I noticed.â
That earns the faintest huff of a laugh from him. It fades quickly. âI donât mean to take it out on you,â he adds.
âI know.â
âDoesnât make it okay.â
âNo,â you agree. âIt doesnât.â
Another pause.
Then, âIâll work on it,â he says, quieter now. âIf you⊠stick around long enough for me to.â
There it is.
Not a grand apology.
Not perfect.
But real.
You hesitate for a secondâjust enough to make him nervous before stepping forward, closing the distance between you. âIâm still here, arenât I?â
His hand finds yours, grip firm but not tight this time. Grounding instead of controlling. âYeah,â he murmurs.
The tension doesnât disappear completely. It probably wonât for a while.
But it softens. Just enough.
And when he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours, itâs not about possession. Itâs about holding on, without breaking whatâs already cracking.
hi! can i have keys, mailed through ups, in a small box, with white wrapping, sent downtown?
Take Your Timeâ°â Keys x you
Pairing: Walter âKeysâ McKey x reader
Rating: mature
Warnings: idrk it wasnât proof read. Smut, pnv(wrap it up boi), groping.
No summary bc Iâm lazy and I was half sleep making this so donât mind my vocabulary going down. But uh yh
_____________________________________
The apartment is quieter than usual.
Not empty. Itâs never that, not when youâre here⊠but softer. Like the world outside decided to lower its volume just enough to let this moment exist without interruption.
Keys sits beside you on the couch, shoulder brushing yours, his hand loosely intertwined with your fingers. Itâs a familiar positionâone youâve fallen into a hundred times before.
But tonight feels different.
You can tell by the way he keeps glancing at you. Not nervous, exactly⊠just thoughtful. Careful. Like heâs standing at the edge of something and doesnât want to step forward unless youâre right there with him.
âYou okay?â you ask softly. He nods almost immediately, then lets out a small breath, a quiet laugh following it.
âYeah. I justââ He pauses, thumb brushing over your knuckles. âI donât want to mess anything up.â
Your chest tightens a little at that. âYou wonât,â you say. âYou never do.â
Keys looks at you, really looks and something in his expression shifts. Warms. Like your words settled somewhere deep.
âYou say that like youâre not part of this too,â he murmurs.
You smile faintly. âI am.â
âThen weâre both not messing it up.â
That earns a quiet laugh from him, the tension easing just a little.
Silence falls again, but itâs not uncomfortable. Itâs full. Anticipation sitting between you, gentle but undeniable.
You shift slightly, turning toward him more fully. His hand tightens around yours; instinctive, grounding.
âKeys,â you say, softer now.
âYeah?â
Your voice drops, just a little. âI trust you.â
Itâs simple. But it changes everything.
He stills.
For a second, he just looks at youâlike heâs making sure you mean it, like heâs memorizing the moment so he doesnât forget how it feels.
Then he nods, slow and certain. âI trust you too.â
The distance between you disappears gradually.
He leans in first this time, but not all the way. It was never all the way. He always gives you space to meet him halfway.
You do.
The kiss is soft at first, familiar. Comfortable in the way all your kisses have been. Gentle, unhurried, like thereâs no need to rush something that already belongs to you both.
But it doesnât stay like that.
It deepens slowly, naturally, like breathing in sync. His hand finds your cheek, warm and steady, while yours grips lightly at his shirt.
Thereâs a quiet shiftâsomething unspoken, but understood. When you pull back, itâs only for a second.
âStill okay?â he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, resting your forehead against his. âYeah.â
Thatâs all he needs. The next kiss lingers longer. Feels warmer. Closer.
And when he stands, gently guiding you with him, thereâs no hesitation. Just that same care, that same quiet certainty.
Every movement after that is slow. Intentional.
He never stops checking in⊠not always with words, but with the way he looks at you, the way his hands pause just long enough to make sure youâre still there with him.
You are. Completely.
By the time you reach the bedroom, the world outside feels miles away. Itâs just you and him. Soft breaths. Warm hands. The quiet sound of your names on each otherâs lips.
Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. Just⊠right.
And as he pulls you closer, as the last bit of space between you disappears, everything softens into something deeperâsomething youâll remember long after tonight.
The lights dim. The city hums faintly beyond the window. And everything else fades away.
He looks down at you. Asking for permission. You nod, of course. You nod at him. He slowly kissed down your neck, his tongue trailing over your pulse.
You let out a gasp. Your nails slowly tracing down his back. He takes that as an invite to go lower, reaching your breasts.
Keys looks up. Before looking back down and pulling off your shirt. Covering your chest in kisses then he reaches at the back and pulls off your bra. Your nipples harden in the cool air.
âTheyâre so pretty,â he states as he places a kiss on one of your nipples. You let out a whimper.
âW-wait..â you state, âCan you take your shirt off too?â
He stares at you. He slowly sat up and took off his shirt. Fuck⊠he looked so good with chest hair. He took off his glasses and placed them by the nightstand.
You sat up. Kissing down his neck as you ran your hand over his crotch. He let out a stretched gasp.
He looks down at you and kisses you. Everything feels like itâs on fire⊠Metaphorically speaking. He made his way on top of you. Running his hand across the nightstand u til he found a condom.
âYou ready? For real this time, love?â You slowly close your legs around his hips as you watch him slip the condom on. You nod.
âMhmâŠâ
And that was all he needed. Once again. He slips inside of you. Shushing you as you let out a cry. It hurt⊠so bad.
He hums in response. Letting you adjust to him before he began to move. In. Out. In. Out. It even started to feel good.
âGod damnit, youâre tight.â He pants. Starting to get rougher at fucking you.
You moan. Arching your back. Tears slowly stream down your face due to the stimulation. He misses the tears right off your cheeks. Canât have his pretty girl crying, can he?
Your whole body jerks as you feel the condom snap and he explodes into you. Thick, hot, endless. His cock twitches in your soaked cunt. And the moment it hits? Your own orgasm crashes right through you.
Fingers dig into his shoulder, nails biting at his skin as you call out his name, voice raw, guttural, trembling around every syllable while your walls clench and milk she last drop from him.
He thrusts you through it, slower now, more sensual. Hips rolling to feel every pulse, every spill of his cum flooding through you. Dripping down between you two as your thighs quake and his chest pressed against yours.
âFuckâŠâ he whimpers. He breathed. Dazed. Overwhelmed. His lips brush against your jaw, your ear, your neck, wherever he can reach while you both come down. Still full of each other, twitching from the aftershocks.
âWe did it..â you whisper. Barely holding yourself upright. Completely ruined in the best possible way. He made you breakâŠ
He slowly pulls out watching his cum drip out. He slowly clean you up and least you against his chest. Letting out a soft breath.
Maybe it was all worth it. One thing for sure, you wonât forget this.
wc: 3.4k
not proof read, tried getting it out asap - sorry
Three weeks.
It had been three weeks since that ride home. Three weeks since the argument. Three weeks since you hit a nerve inside of him. Three weeks since you last saw him. Since you last heard his voice.
The texts would come in, usually once a day - maybe every other day. He had started sharing his location with you (he always had yours but he hadnât given it back). It wasnât much, but it was almost like a promise that he was still allowing you access. Youâd watch that location religiously.
It was the most viewed app on your phone. Youâd stare at it.
You saw when heâd get to a hotel on the state line, when heâd stop for McDonalds for the 4th meal in a row, when heâd stop at the gas station. You would watch as he made countless of drives, several hours long - over and over. You saw when heâd start heading back to Lehigh, though he never stayed long. He would be in town to get fresh clothes, update Roy, and maybe get a few minutes of sleep. You began to notice that he would text you as his icon would be passing familiar places to you.Â
Sometimes he would text, and youâd notice he had just passed by the salon. Other times it would be passing by your favorite coffee shop. But more often then not, he would text you as he was passing your house driving up the country road to get back onto the highway taking him further and further from you.
It would always be something small.
đ: saw that lucys released their summer drink menu. lemme guess, your favorite is the strawberry refresher?
đ: hows geico doin
đ: you gonna go that rodeo? a couple of the ranchers are bull ridin in it this year. let me know and I can probably get you snuck in to see those lil highland cows the kids are showin
đ: yards gettin long, ill call dalton and get him to come cut it sometime this week. its snake season so wear your tall boots in case.
And occasionally,
đ: miss u.
Youâd respond, but he wouldnât ever keep up the conversation - you couldnât tell if its because he didnât want to or if it was because he got busy. Regardless, you really fucking missed him.
The house grew cold, despite the summer heat rolling in. It seemed as though the house missed him just as much. It groaned at invisible steps that it wished Gator would be taking across its surface. The afternoon light refused to shine in where it usually did, unwilling because it knew it wasnt going to catch itself in his beautiful hazel eyes. The wind even whispered through drafty areas in the home as if saying âwhen is he coming back?â Or âis he avoiding usâ? God, you wish you knew.
You knew he was in town, but you knew that âin townâ meant he was here for 2 hours tops and that every waking moment was filled with something important he had to do. It didnât stop you from watching that app. The second you saw his icon turn down the country road, you sprung out of bed. You were determined to make today the day that he finally stopped.
There was about 8 minutes in between where he was and your home, you had to think quick. You threw on one of his black stark county sheriffs t-shirts and a pair of cut off shorts (your shortest ones), pulled on some sneakers and ran out the front door.
You pulled out the long extension hose from the side of the house and filled up a 5 gallon bucket full of water, then you added the soap. There was nothing that said âstop hereâ more than a hot woman washing her car while being dripping wet, right?Â
You threw your hair up into a messy bun and shook it a little, trying to make it look like this wasnât completely arranged. Your 4runner was shocked as you began hosing it down - the only person who had hand washed her was Gator.
Allowing the water to spray you every once in a while to keep up the act, you slide out your phone to see his location.
1 minute away.
Show time.
You run around the back of the car, allowing yourself to be the first thing he sees. Giving it a close spray, the water bounces off of the metal and drenches the front of your shirt, water dripping down your legs and dribbles on your neck.
The cold water instantly hardening your nipples, which you did deliberately - choosing not to wear a bra.
Gravel.
You hear him before you see him, the engine roaring louder behind you.
Lights, camera, action - superstar!
You flip your head over your shoulder, innocently, like this wasnât apart of your masterful plan for the past week.
He threw open the door to his truck and plopped one foot onto the running board and stood up on it - torso leaning in between the door frame and the cab.
âYou gotta work top to bottom. Otherwise all that shits gonna fall down and youâll have to clean the sides again. Thats basic knowledge, sweet.â
His eyes lowering at your soaked tits in his shirt, just for a second.
âBut how am I supposed to get up there?â You say, kinda serious actually.
âGimme the hose and I can spray it from right here.â
You listen. Water keeps sliding down your hand from the leaking nozzle, ultimately dripping off your body at the elbow. You make your way towards him, the movements making your breast move along with it - nearly hypnotizing him.
You reach up and give him the hose, his fingers momentarily grazing your hand.
He begins spraying the top of your vehicle until all the grime is gone. He lowers it back down to you, before he finally hops out of the truck.
There is something inside of you that died and went to Heaven when he slammed the door. Meaning he actually was going to stand here with you for a minute, though he left the engine running.
âHows the assignment?â You ask.
âShit.â He responds, flat.
âYou getting some sleep?â, you knew the answer.
âFuck no.â
âMiss me?â, you reach.
âAlways.â, he looked at you like he was mourning.
It made you smile hearing it, but didnât like what it cost you.
âYou changed your hairâ, he says as he begins smirking - letting his guard down.
You smile. He noticed your hair.
âYeah, added some blonde highlights. One of the girls needed a model and figured it was time for a change.â
âDoesnât look bad.â He mumbles, still grinning.
You laugh, looking to the ground at your wet sneakers.
âIs that your way of saying it looks good or that you donât like it at all, but you donât wanna hurt my feelings?â You giggle out.
He straightens, and gives you a soft smile. You missed his fucking smile so much. Damn near took everything inside of you not to pull out your phone and take a picture.
âYou look good no matter what you do. I just didnât expect you to change it⊠well, I guess I'm just more shocked because if you did change it - that just, well, that just seems like you wouldâve sent me a picture or something. At least told me about it.â He rambles, clearly uncomfortable.Â
The distance had been hard for him. Harder than it was for you, by a long shot. With the lack of sleep, work load, junk food, knowledge of Wade still being in town, not being able to keep him away from you, and most of all⊠not being with you everyday? Yeah - Gator was close to falling apart. But he couldnât show that to a soul. They see that as a weakness in his line of work, that makes you a target. People go digging for a way to take him down and youâre the only thing on the list that could debilitate him.
âWould you have wanted me to tell you about it? To send you a picture?â, you respond softly to the admission.
âYes. God, you have no clue how desperate I am for some normalcy while Im out thereâ, he says with an exhausted laugh, rubbing his hand down his face, âIts not been great⊠if I'm being honest with you.â
You didnât know anything about what he was doing. He didnât say, and you didnât ask. You had been invited back to the ranch after church last Sunday and Wade and Roy were talking - they had mentioned drug trafficking? That sounded fucking dangerous, enough where you lost your appetite, meanwhile everyone else continued on. You hated the idea of Gator being out there.
âWant to come in? You can tell me about it?â, you offer, âI made pie this morning, cherry - its so good.. I may or may not have had a slice for breakfast and another for lunch.âÂ
He laughed at that. Fuck you Gator and your perfect laugh.Â
âI would love that, but.. I gotta get on the road.â He got quiet.
Your heart dropped, even thought you knew it was coming.
âOh, yeah - yeah, now worries! Hey, I can grab you a slice real quick and you can come say hi to geico.â You turn, not even waiting to see if heâd follow, he always did - fuck, what if heâs not?
You turn to look, and heâs only a couple steps behind you. Your body relaxes.
You kick off your wet sneakers outside, and pull off your socks before you go in - drenched from the water hose.
He watched every movement you made like a fucking hawk.
As soon as you pulled your screen door open, the smell of the fresh baked pie swirled out into the air and met Gator on the front porch. It was like a welcome home gift from the house.
âSmells delicious, oh my god.â He genuinely almost moaned out, âIve been eating nothing but shit on the road, you fuckin spoiled me to death and now im suffering.â
Your heart broke and warmed all at the same time.
He made his way over to the terrarium system Geico was in.
âHey buddy, your mama taking good care of you?â He sweet talked him, giving his head a little scratch, âIve missed you..â
You smile as you pull out a knife from the drawer. The pie dish was sitting on the counter and you slid it over to you, making the glass rattle against the countertop.
That tore his attention back over to you. He began moving into the kitchen.
Ever so quiet, you didnât even realize he was leaning against the counter looking at you from behind. You thought he was still saying his hellos.
You push up onto your tippy toes and open up one of the top cabinets and reach for a piece of Tupperware to pack his pie away in - then you heard him clear his throat.
You knew he must be staring at your ass, so you whip around to catch him in the act.
He absolutely was, and unashamedly at that.
âSo in the past few weeks did you grow a couple inches on me, or have you always been able to reach that shelf and just pretended to be helpless so id get in there for you?â
Caught ya.
You tucked your lips into each other, trying not to laugh. It was so true, you always could - you just liked him to do it for you. Just like you knew how to change your oil in the car, but had him do it for you. Just like you could move the couch, but you liked him to do it so you could watch his muscles. Just like you knew how to swim, but pretended you were no good so that heâd keep you close and wrap an arm around you - you were swim captain in high school. Worked as a lifeguard in the summers for a couple years. Still held your certification, but he didnât need to know any of that.
You liked Gator feeling needed. Because he liked being needed.
âI mustâve grown, Gator Bug!â, you say with fake astonishment, shaking your head like you didnât have a clue. You walk over to him, swiping a finger into the cherry pie on your way.
You bring it to your mouth and run your finger over your tongue before closing your mouth around yourself and sucking it clean.
He could feel everything inside of him getting tense, he wanted you badly. And he wanted you in every way. Fuck, he missed you.
His hands shook, holding himself back. His call time for his team was in 3 hours, and he was now 3 hours away⊠definitely overstayed - but who the fuck could blame him. Look at you.
Hair a mess, falling out of the bun. Fresh face, you hadnât worn any makeup today - skincare was making you glow. Your lips were slightly stained from the cherry pie a beautiful flushed pink, making you eyes look even greener than usual. There you stood in his damp t-shirt, nipples still peeking through. And his favorite cut off shorts. Barefoot. Fuck - you were irresistible.
âI gotta go babyâŠâ, trying the pet name to see how youâd react.
Your heart skipped a few beats before you took a step back. Reaching for the to-go container, you sliced a hefty piece and placed it inside and sealed up the lid.Â
âCome get more later, okay?â, you whisper, pretending like this is just another shift and that he is gonna come crawl into your bed at some ungodly hour and hum into your ear until you slipped back into sleep - dreaming about him, as usual.
âAs soon as I'm off, Iâll come straight here babygirl.â, a sad promise he knew would take a while to fulfill.
âGator. Call me.â, You cross the kitchen floor and slide your arms around his waist.
He wraps his arms around you immediately, feeling like home. Even though he was squeezing you, you felt like you could finally breath for the first time in weeks.
âI will try to call.â
âNo, you will call. I know you spend hours on the road. You can give me 20 minutes of your time every once in a while. Ive hadnât gone a day without you for two whole fuckin years and then you ghost me for three weeks, I hate it.â You mouth back.
âYou know why I didnât call⊠I told you - its way too dangerous.â, he shoved back, arms still around you as he spoke into the side of your hair, inhaling deep so he can get the smell of your vanilla shampoo.
You huffed in annoyance and tried to pull back, he just squeezed tighter and placed a hand on the back of your head to bring you back to his chest.
âGator bug, nothin is gonna happen to me!â
âIf I get caught, they will go through my phone and find a reason to get me to talk. Youâre the only thing that could. Seeing multiple call logs with you, a million texts? No. I cant do that.â
âThen get a fuckin burner and if you think youâre bout to get smoked out, then you destroy it.â
His entire body shook in laughter, shaking you along with it.
âSee⊠this is why I want you to stay out of this, baby. You just described like every spy movie scene I've shown you. This is so much scarier than watching it on a screen, honey.â He started to laugh, until he thought about the reality and it made him swallow it.
âIve been safe, Gator bug. Ive got my gun, Ive got my taser and pepper spray. Ive got that nail bat thingy you made. I have a large collection of high heeled shoes that im sure can be pretty dangerous. And the ranch is less than 10 minutes from here - Im good, I swear.â You whisper into his shoulder.
âBut⊠Im not at the ranch.â
âYeah but like⊠Roy is.â You hesitate.
âAnd⊠and were you gonna say Wade?â
You inhale slowly, taking a breath of his musky smell - you could bathe in it.
âWell, I mean I wasnât gonna say it but yeah he is there too, and all the ranch hands. If something bad happened-â
âYeah, tell me who youâd call. If something bad happens⊠who are you calling?â He begins to firm his voice, he is on edge, âand donât you dare say me because you know I'm almost never here.â
âWell if its serious, Iâd call the cops, then Roy, and then you - just to let you know.â You start, âBut if its not seriousâŠâ
âYou call Wade?â
âNow thats not fair! Gator, I-â
âYeah, he called to tell me all about the fox trying to get the hens and he came over and set up the trap. He also told me that you had a flat and he fixed that for you-â, He begins going off.
You fight back, him still holding you to his chest, âNo no no, he found me on the side of the road while I was grabbing my spare. I never asked for his help, he just did it! Now⊠I did call him about the fox, BUT it was because I was asking if I could come get a trap for it and I knew it was in your barn - I didnât want to go in there next to the apartment and be in there with him again-â
âAgain? What the fuck do you mean again? You were in my apartment with him?!â He got loud.
âIt was that Sunday at the ranch, when we went shootin.â
He relaxed and smiled at the memory, âOh, so when he interrupted us?â
âWell⊠I mean, not exactly. He walked in while I was there looking for my phone.â
He stilled.
âTell me everything.â
You finally pulled back, and this time he let you.
âHe just said some shit about you and me⊠thats all.â You lie.
He can see right through it⊠fuckin cop.
âEverythingâŠâ
âHe told me that I deserved someone who just wants me, and doesnât fuck the whole town. Said he could be worth my time, and you never were.â, you spill it all.
Gators jaw tightened, as his his grip on your waist. His tongue rested on the front of his teeth, trying to hold the words inside.
His eyes looking anywhere but you. He scanned the kitchen, noticing the pie dish - it looked phenomenal. Then his eyes landed on the clock on the microwave, he winced - he knew he had to leave. And then he saw it, and nearly broke his jaw with how tight he squeezed it.
He shook his head, trying to ignore what he was looking at in your sink.
He knows he doesnât have time to unpack it now, he has to leave.
âBabygirl, I have to go okay? I needed to be on the road like a long time ago - Ive got a team meeting I need to make.â He pulls you in for a tight hug, then placing his lips on your temple.
You pull back and look at him, nearly in tears. You donât want him to leave. You donât want your house to be empty again, your driveway to be void of that big f150, or his boots being gone from beside your slippers. In fact, you donât want him to leave ever again.
You slide your hands up his chest. One rests on the back of his neck and the other at his jaw.
He wants to kiss you as badly as you want to kiss him.
So, fuck it - he does.
He leans in and you gasp, eagerly leaning in the close the distance.
The moment he touches you, you stop worrying, overthinking, spinning - he wanted this just as badly. He didnât want to ice you out.Â
The kiss was deep, yet soft. And desperately slow. He memorized every movement you made - knowing that he would have to survive off it this moment for who knows how long.
You knew he was goin back and things were gonna be quiet again - but this time you knew how he felt.
But he wrestled with how you felt⊠not about him - but about himâŠ
His mind keeps drifting back to the sight of your sink.
