warnings: mentions of sexual acts, but i think that’s all (let me know if i missed anything - very new to this 💌)
chapter 2 link here
wc: 3.6k
There are three things Gator Tillman knows like the back of his hand.
Money. Guns. And you.
One of those being far more dangerous than the rest, but he didn’t know that yet.
In the stretched out plains of Stark County, North Dakota, sits Lehigh. A small town where no one purposefully means to stay longer than they have to, but sometimes people just stick. You were one of those people.
Roy Tillman, Sheriff of Stark County, knew everything that happened within his county lines. If someone had a flat tire, he knew about it. If someone adopted a new dog, he knew about it. If someone was having an affair, he knew about it (and usually blackmailed them because of it). And more than anything else, if someone new was in town, he definitely knew about it. He knew about you the second your vanilla cashmere perfume floated into southeastern North Dakota.
You came up from North Carolina, figuring you might as well try the other state with ‘North’ in front of it. Coming from the south, you thought you knew country - but there was nothing that could prepare you for what Stark County had to offer. As soon as your tires crossed the county line, you were greeted with a scowl from a man on a billboard and probably the most redneck image you’ve seen since you left the Carolinas.
RE-ELECT SHERIFF ROY TILLMAN ‘A HARD MAN FOR HARD TIMES’
An image of the American flag stilled in the background. A ginormous badge. A man on a horse. And a man staring off into the distance, attempting to look like the hero in an old western your Papaw used to watch. You were willing to bet all your hard earned money (You had less than a grand to your name) that the knock off John Wayne was Sheriff Roy Tillman. You couldn’t help but giggle a little. Men always made you giggle - especially when they had this macho man attitude, they had no clue they looked dumb as rocks.
It was the middle of June, windows down and music up. You were blasting ‘A Place In This World’ by Taylor Swift - you felt like the lyrics matched the moment as you were closing in on town you would soon be calling home. Your curls whipping in the midwestern wind as they tangled up into your sunglasses. Your cherry coke was sweating just as bad as you were, but it tasted better than the gas station coffee that you had gotten a couple hours ago that you left unfinished. You hadn’t seen any speed limit signs, so you made up your own speed - 70mph sounded great. Well, it did.
Until you heard the sirens.
Well thats one way to start off with a bang.
You see the blue and white lights flashing behind you in the bright of the day, siren blaring and ruining the vibes that your playlist (named ‘PRETTY PINK PILATES PRINCESS PLAYLIST’ that Spotify made for you) had set. You didn’t run, you knew better - you didn’t plan on causing problems for the law at least not on your first day.
You pull over and look at what your working with. Your hair looks perfect - you say a silent thank you to God that he gave you peak Julia Roberts 90s curls. Where is your damn lip gloss? Oh, God - you hear the door of the cruiser close. Fenty Beauty. Thank the good Lord that you found it in time. You don’t even need a mirror to apply the gloss, this is like muscle memory to you.
Boots.
Heavy boots. Its a man… Bingo.
You quickly do a little tussle in your white spaghetti strap tank and let your bubblegum pink lace bralette peak out the top, showing off a generous amount - a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do and boy… do these girlies work overtime for you. You become overly aware that your denim cut offs are making your thighs look a little too plump, now you’re just showing off. You almost feel bad for the man, but its too late now.
He’s here.
“Afternoon Miss… Im Deputy Tillman with the Stark County Sheriffs Department. Do you know why I pulled ya over today?”
Girl.
This man. Is so fine. You’re mentally taking a picture of him so that you can describe him in explicit detail to your friends on FaceTime later. The only downside about this moment was the thick smell of cigarettes off of him. God, you hated cigarettes.
“No Deputy, Im sorry - I don’t have a clue!” You reply with the most sticky sweet southern drawl. You know what to do, what to say, how to say it. You’ve never gotten a ticket, and one of your life’s missions is to never get one.
“Gotcha going 72 in a 50 zone… where ya going in such a hurry?”, he asked, already knowing that he was gonna let you go - gotta keep himself on the good side of a pretty girl like you. You handed him over your drivers license, registration, and proof of insurance. He smiled ever so slightly when he read your name. He was also confused as why someone from North Carolina was all the way up here when it wasn’t hunting season - not that you looked like the hunting type.
The wind sending him a love letter with its only content being the smell of your perfume - definitely vanilla, but something else… cherries? He was thanking God that he has his sunglasses on, he could unashamedly look wherever he so pleased without you knowing a damn thing - but he aint the first man to look at you, and he sure as shit aint the last… you knew exactly where the deputy was looking.
“Im going to be honest with you officer-”
“Deputy”
“-Deputy… right. My apologies. Im new in town, just rollin in… bags are in the car and everything - see?” You motion to your absolutely filled to the brim Toyota 4Runner. He had never seen so much pink in all of his life. Pink suitcases. Pink pillows. He can count at least 3 pairs of pink slippers in the passenger floorboard. A frog stuffed animal that you had sitting in your passenger seat… wearing the damn seatbelt. If it wasn’t pink, it was something glittery. You get the angle just right with the sun, he was willing to bet you could blind someone with the amount of glitter you had in here.
You see him grin, crooked and slow - measuring.
“And you’re comin here… to Lehigh…to live?” He was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from the trunk or something, because you look like you just moved out of a barbie dream house and aint nothing in this whole damn county would make you blend in. This has to be a joke.
“Nothin worked for me back home, figured id try something new.” You said as confident as possible, ignoring the churning in your belly and the slamming of your heart. You had no clue what you were doing all the way out here. You hadn’t told your mama - not that she would’ve cared enough to convince you to think twice. You had no job lined up. Did this small town even have a salon, let alone enough people to fill your books? The only thing you had was a ridiculously inexpensive (compared to North Carolina) year long rental contract for a little yellow house with blue shutters - that and all your pink glittery belongings.
The way he smiled back at you… gosh - it was like the movies.
He couldn’t help but smile at that. He didn’t know why, but he was a mix of amused, jealous, and giddy all at the same time. Amused, because who the hell would want to try out living in Lehigh as a choice? Jealous, because wow - did he want a choice, a taste of liberty. Giddy? Yeah, he just met the prettiest girl he had ever seen and now she is gonna live in his puny, boring as shit, isolated town… hell yeah he was giddy.
There was no way in heaven or hell that he was giving you a ticket, but you didn’t know that. He began pulling something out of his bulletproof vest and you assumed the worst. You straightened your back as if you were getting scolded and fought back pouting out your bottom lip. Then he handed it over to you.
His card. His name. His number. His email. Him.
Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman.
“Im gonna let ya off with a warning… cant ruin yer optimism about these parts that fast. Speed limits 50, go 50. Call me if ya need anything.” He lowered his sunglasses and you finally got to see his fucking gorgeous hazel eyes, “And I do mean anything.” He winked as he walked away, boots heavy on the ground.
You sit there for a moment in a spiral, noticing that his lights have now turned off. This was not exactly how you imagined the first few minutes in your new town to go, but you weren’t exactly mad at it either. You see him pop an illegal u-turn right in front of you. This fucking guy… but I guess he can get away with it right?
Tillman. Tillman. It hits you. He is related to the Sheriff. You think about the wannabe John Wayne on the billboard, and then your mind flicks to the Deputy you just met - they have to be father and son. You shake him out of your mind for now, you have like a million other things to think about that are way more important than a hot nepo baby.
Finally settling down, you pull back onto the road and continue making your drive to your new home. GPS starts spinning out on you, but thankfully you know its right down the road. Just look for the little yellow cottage with the white trim and blue shutters. Home. Your home. Feels weird to say, or to think about. Living in the suffocation of your mother, you dreamed of something for yourself - who knew North Dakota would gift that to you?
It hits you in a wave of excitement when you finally see it from a distance. Its small and its yours. You pull into the long driveway - grass overtaken in the middle, just leaving dirt underneath where the tires pass over. Theres a tree that canopies out, limbs shading the house to a degree. You park your 4runner underneath it and sit in absolute silence for a beat. By the time you reach the front door, the sun has started making its descent over the grassy yard. You witness the glory of a North Dakota sunset for the first time, realizing that this has been gatekept - and you intended to keep that secret now as well. Pulling out the key from the lockbox, you slid it into the knob and turned.
The old walnut colored wood floors looked like gold as it was bathing in the sunset. The walls were an off white, cream-ish color, making the whole house illuminate. It smelled like musk and old wood, it smelled like your Mamaw - bringing a whole new feeling of comfort.
Rosie, your landlord, offered to leave a few pieces of furniture for you since she knew you were coming alone and only brought what you could fit in your SUV. She left a wooden table with a built in lamp and a green and white checkered love seat in the living room. In the kitchen, she left a small white metal table that had seen much better days. It was up against a large bay window that overlooked the backyard. Your backyard.
You made your way through the home. A small powder room, with walls decorated in pink floral wallpaper - easily was from the 70s. Next to it, a small room with French doors that spill into the living room. It was too small to be a bedroom, you thought it was logical to be an office. Slipping back through the living room, you ascend the wooden staircase. Every step made a noise, like the house was surprised it had a visitor. You are met with a small landing with a circular window that overlooks the driveway and onto the main road. On one side of the landing, there is a small guest bedroom, and sitting on the other side is the primary bedroom. On the far wall, a wood framed queen sized bed sits centered.
You make your way into the bedroom, flipping on the light switch in the process. The light is flickering ever so slightly, and you can tell its just a loose bulb that needs to be secured a bit more. The issue is, you are 5’1 and the bed isn’t close enough to the light. You dont have a ladder and you consider just flinging yourself off the bed to pull a move. Deciding that jumping with force, not a ton of grace, and glass doesn’t make the best scenario - you decide to just turn off the light. You’ll deal with the darkness when the sun finally sets. To the side of the room, you see a little ensuite bathroom. Before you have the chance to walk in, you see a set of headlights coming up your drive.
You creep downstairs, silently praying that you remembered to lock the front door. You have nothing in the house with you, everything is still packed. Even your leopard print purse is sitting in the passenger seat right beside Scroggy (your frog stuffed animal that you’ve had since you were 5 that you named after your kindergarten teacher), which unfortunately is where your taser and pepper spray currently are. You hear a knock on the door and your throat feels like sandpaper. You peek out from the staircase and through the glass panes of the window beside the door, you see him. The Deputy? You quickly make your way to the bottom of the staircase and across the wooden floors to the door. You swing it open, probably a little too eagerly.
He stood there, filling the door frame. Tall, dark eyes, dark hair, dashing - fuck. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. He had shed his vest, so unfortunately, you were eye level with the broadest chest and shoulders you think you’ve ever seen. You notice how he fills out his shirt, shit - he probably sizes down on purpose, you thought. He notices you noticing. You speak before he can, cause Lord you do not want to have him call you out on staring.
“Evening Deputy, is something the matter?”
“Good Evening, miss… I was just finishing my patrol when I saw the light on and…- this place has been empty for quite a while and I just wanted to come check in and make sure there wasn’t any shenanigans happenin in here is all…” he trailed off, clearly less confident than earlier. You can tell he just smoked, almost made your nose curl.
“Oh, no… sorry for wasting your time Deputy. Im renting here from Rosie Connors. I can show you our contract if you-”
“No need. I- I believe ya.” Oh yeah, this is an awkward silence. He shifts from his toes back onto his heels as he thinks of all the ways he just completely ruined his meet-cute with you earlier. He is trying to quickly think of a way to turn this around: help her, dumbass.
“Sun is going down quick, you got in kinda late. Would you like some help unloading? Might make it a little faster for you?” He rambles.
You can tell he feels silly, and you like that. You grew up with the only men in your life being your daddy and your papaw. Neither were serious men. Seeing this Deputy, the Sheriffs son at that, fumbling his words? Yeah, that’ll do it for you - a man you can laugh at is a man you’d not entirely loath. It slips before you can catch yourself, a true giggle leaving your lips.
He swore his world stopped right there. Standing there in the cool June evening breeze on your front porch, he touched Heaven.
Before you could even reply, you were forcing him out of the door frame as he stumbled back onto the front porch. You skipped down the front steps and made your way to the car, he followed. As the trunk flew open, he realized he had entirely underestimated how many shades of pink there were. The amount of blankets you had was ridiculous. He pictured laying out all of the blankets across your yard, thinking it would probably cover the entire three acre lot. He carried load after load, bag after bag, until soon all that was left in the vehicle was loose glitter and somehow, a pink feather. The sun had long gone, dipped below the fields as the lights in the house were all you had left.
The Deputy rolled his shoulders, he realized that was probably the weirdest exercise he’s had in a while. He thought about how on probably his 8th load into the house, the box he was carrying felt a bit heavy. He looked in the box and the entire thing was filled to the brim with stuffed animals, yet it felt like it was 60lbs. He realized just how ridiculous he was because he was considering squatting stuffed animals. He could tell absolutely no one about this.
He caught you looking at him with an amused smile on your face.
“Well… your car is empty. My back is shot. Im pretty sure I have a piece of glitter in my fucking eye. Is there anything else you need, considering that I’m completely spent?” He sassed at you, huffing. He loved every fucking second of this, he would stay here until the sun burnt out if you asked him to.
“Actually, there is one thing…” you smirked.
Something in your eyes caught his attention. Then the way you twirled around to the staircase and swayed your hips in those little cutoff shorts he had been thinking about since earlier caught the attention of something else inside of him, or a certain part of him. He followed, because of course he did. You made your way to the landing and told him to follow you. He did, eagerly. He had seen the whole downstairs, he didn’t see bedrooms - he knew what was up here.
Shoulders back, chest out, cocky grin - he strolled into the bedroom, like he knew exactly where this was going. He imagined you thanking him in the way he deserved, on your knees with that infuriatingly sexy lip gloss wrapped around him. But when you turned around, you pointed up.
It was dark, he didn’t know what he was meant to be looking at and you didn’t speak. He flipped the switch that was beside him and saw the light flickering. He had never read a situation that wrong before. He jutted out his chin and held his tongue over his front teeth, pushing his lips out. Yeah, he definitely couldn’t tell anyone about this.
“I cant reach it and I was thinking about supermaning off the bed, but now - you’re here! Can you just -” Before you could finish, he was twisting the bulb without him saying a word. It flickered one last time before evening out into a glow over the whole room. He looked flushed, probably from all of that unloading he did. Thats what you assumed.
“Thats everything that I can think of needing help with so far…” as you took in the newly lit room, and finally taking a look at the ensuite.
You move passed the Deputy and headed downstairs, meanwhile he stood there at the end of your bed questioning everything he thought he was. You had no idea the man upstairs was unraveling. But if you did, you would’ve laughed.
He finally made his way down the steps, slowly and spent. He looked over at you and then silently made his way to the front door. Was he… sulking? You followed him out onto the front porch. He looked down at you, and hated himself for it.
There you were, sweaty from the work you did unpacking as he was unloading, eyes glittering in the moonlight, hair like what he’d imagine a mermaids hair to be like… and you had no clue the affect you had on him - despite him spending the whole evening with you with nothing in return.
You leaned in, grabbing his bicep (for balance purposes only, people), and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. The moment was quiet. Warm. And soft. He never had soft. You were soft.
“Thank you for everything, Deputy. From not giving me a ticket, to the lightbulb - you made my first day pretty remarkable.” You said in a hushed tone, as if you were trying not to let the crickets in the summer night hear you.
“Gator-”, he clears his throat, “You can just call me Gator.” He felt entirely exposed, like his name wasn’t his name anymore - as if it was the key to his soul or something.
“Gator…” You smiled. He let you call him Gator. “Thank you, Gator.”
Still feeling like he just laid out his whole life for you, despite only telling you to call him by his first name, he turned and made his way down the front steps. When he reached the cruiser, he swung the door open and looked up at you.
“Goodnight, darlin.” He tipped his head and sank down into the cruiser, eyes never leaving yours.
That was the exact moment of Gator Tillman entering your orbit.
You would’ve never guessed that he’d be the one to hang the moon and the stars for you.
💌 - THANK YOU FOR READING!!! if you liked it, please leave your thoughts in the comments, like, and reblog! if you want to be added or removed from the tag list - you can comment or message me!
warnings: LOL THIS IS SMUT losing virginity, unprotected sex (OOP WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT ESPECIALLY IN 2026), idk if i need to say specifics lol it’s sex - sex stuff is in here
“I told you we should’ve stopped at the grocery store before heading home…”, You yell through the kitchen breezeway to the man sprawled out on the checkered couch.
“Babygirl, we literally went to the store three days ago - how are we already out of food?!” His eyes never leaving the TV - he was glued to it. Gilmore Girls had been on for hours at this point, and he was ready to smash the screen if Luke and Lorelei didn’t figure their shit out this episode.
You thought for a second, time to get moving on your plan. The first thing you needed to do was to get him away from that damn television.
“Go into the bathroom real quick for me, baby. I need you to look at something for me.”
Finally prying his eyes away, he shot you a weird glance but obeyed like the good dog he is.
“Thats a bit off topic, but… okay”, he mumbled, heading towards the downstairs powder room. His entire body was slump, result of a hard working man finally relaxing - they relax a bit too hard and become indistinguishable to a couch cushion.
He lazily made his way in, and flipped on the switch.
“Alright. What am I supposed to be looking at.” Voice flat, he wanted to get back to the show - though he’d never admit it. He thought that your dynamic with one another reflected the dynamic with Lorelei and Luke - and he just wanted to see the fucking happy ending like you guys found. But he knew he never could if he didn’t oblige your request.
“Look in that damn mirror…”
He looked up, squinting ever so slightly at his own reflection - he didn’t look too much at himself these days. The man noticed a couple things:
There wasn’t a damn mark on the mirror, you always kept everything so clean.
His eyes looked greener in this light.
He was wearing his shirt inside out.
“Okay, what-”
“That is how were already out of food.”, you bit back your laugher. You needed him to get his ass out of the house as part two of your plan.
Realizing your joke after a couple ditzy seconds, his lips curl into a grin. You were right - he is absolutely the reason. It was the reason he had to work out diligently. If he didn’t, there is no way he’d be in shape enough to be a Deputy. Thats for damn sure.
“HA HA- you’re so fuckin funny!”, he walks out, rolling his pretty hazel eyes your way. His socks sliding on the wood - a trait he picked up from you, it was more fun to pretend you were ice skating than walking. He could roll his damn eyes all he wanted, but that smile showed his truth. The truth is, you could slap him in the face and he’d thank you for touching him with your pretty little hand.
But you fibbed.
A little white lie, if you will.
Nothing major, nothing worth feeling guilty for -
But ever a lie.
There was food, you knew that. You were looking at it. There on the white wire racks sat a package of chicken wrapped in saran wrap - waiting to be grilled up with the small red potatoes and asparagus you bought to pair it with. You knew he wouldn’t notice. He only noticed the food ready to eat like leftovers or snacks, that or the cold beer. Both of which he ran you out of very quickly.
“So what do you want? I can go get something from the store and we can cook, or I could just swing by the diner - grab us some burgers and fries, call it a day? No cooking?” He offers, seeing that you’re very unlikely to change out of his big ass t-shirt and the pair of tiny pajama shorts.
Oh, but little did he know.
The sunset danced in circles around the living room, illuminating the side of his face - hazel blazing to your own eyes. He looked majestic, he looked holy.
There was no doubt in your mind.
It was him.
It was always meant to be him.
He was meant to find you that day. He was meant to interrupt your night, all of your nights after that.
He wasn’t what you wanted, it isn’t why you came here - but he has lingered in your vision, mind, and the air in your home every since that night.
You lose sleep with the realization, there really is no one else you want. The beat in your chest slowed in tandem to the rhythm of his wild smart ass mouth - leaning into every word he said. This was what you had feared for so long. The soft wanting of another soul. After the destruction of your parents marriage before your daddy passed, it proved to you right there that promises were always going to be broken in time and to never trust.
But with him? It felt good. It felt like worth your breath. It felt worth falling in love.
It felt like maybe, all those runaway trains and ghosted messages brought you right to his calloused hands. Hard, but only soft for you.
“Baby… ya listening t’me?”
You blinked, bringing yourself back to earth from the Heavens he crafted with his smile.
“Yeah- uh yes, sorry, Gator bug. Diner. Burgers.” You cross the room and wrap your arms around him, letting your forehead rest against the front of his sternum. Instinctively, he dips his chin and kisses the top of your hair. He took a deep breath, breathing in the whiffs of vanilla from your shampoo and linen from the laundry you did throughout the day.
His fingers trace circles down your back, dipping underneath the hem. Phantom touches left you breathless, needing, aching for more. Before you can think, your lips kiss the fabric of his shirt - soft, loving, totally wrapped up in the intimacy of his every move.
“Sweetheart-”
“Mhm?” You nose against his chest up and down, needing the touch.
The grin undeniable forms along his face, clueless to what he could’ve done to deserve you - in all his failures, in his self written downfalls, the crushing weight that lay on his shoulders… what possessed you to choose him of all people? The man afraid of his own shadow? The man desperate to be worthy enough for someone - anyone. And you? Oh, he was not worth you.
Soft, and trusting his hard demeanor to care for you.
Kind when you needed to be.
Generous, always. Always.
Funny… even if he was the punchline. Sometimes, especially if he was.
Bossy. God, he loved it.
And fuck… you were sexy as hell.
He knew it was like a poorly written joke, and he laughed at the self deprecation because who in the world could make sense of the way your eyes looked at him like he was the man your father prayed for when dreaming of the life his daughter would have, that he knew his eyes would never see?
“The diner closes at 9”, he twisted his wrist from the base of your back, “Its ten past 8.”
“Then you better get a move on. Use the sirens”, your hands run the length of his torso, “I will have dessert ready when you get home.”
“Dessert? You don’t want your strawberry shake?”
Slowly, desperately trying to keep the surprise inside, you shook your head.
His eyebrows creased, and he tightened his grip on you before dipping you back - the last shine of the sun lingered on the natural gold highlights peaking in your hair. His mouth inches from yours, eyes locked with intensity - not lessening his grip.
“Who are you and what have you done with my girl?!”
“Trust me… I have something better that I'm gonna throw together for you”, you whisper against his lips before leaning forward, taking his bottom lip in between your teeth. He understood perfectly then.
You were dessert.
But he didn’t know that tonight was the night.
“Mmmm, I like the sound of that baby - but I'm still getting you that shake. I know your fuckin ass. You’ll be moanin about wanting it after.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.
But you had a feeling he would be moaning a bit more than you tonight.
In the span of a minute, he had twirled you back up, yanked off his shirt and put it on correctly, gotten in his cruiser and jokingly threw on the sirens and lights as he flew out of your driveway - just because he knew it would make you laugh.
It did. But you also were already sprinting upstairs by the time he made it to the end of the driveway, tossing gravel out on the dark country road. The sun had dipped below the skyline, but sending the moon a greeting as it made its way to fill the night sky. The two dynamic forces shining onto one another, a love letter in space.
The sound of your quickened steps made the house squeal - your excitement could only mean one thing.
The house would finally creak for Gator Tillman.
A marathon took place in your ensuite bathroom. Body shower, hair tucked in a shower cap - lukewarm water so your head wouldn’t sweat underneath. Armpits shaved, legs shaved, and her? You are thanking… well probably not the Lord, you were gonna inevitably cry for forgiveness later for what you were about to very willingly do - so maybe, thanking the universe that you got waxed a few days ago. Fresh. Clean. Ready.
You step out of the shower, and immediately apply your lotion. This was a new scent he had surprised you with - cinnamon and vanilla… this man wanted you to smell like a damn cinnamon roll. Teeth brushed, hair fluffed, rare beauty lip stain applied.
Now… all that was left was gift wrap.
Your fingers gloss over the satins, lace, silks - the goosebumps rush to your ribs. He would say you look breathtaking in anything, he always does. But what would he he adore on you just as much as he’d love taking off of you? What would look the best in his fists, dried blood stitching the skin on his knuckles?
Red - always red.
Blood red.
Lace.
The soft lace fabric slides over your legs, your thighs promise your already dripping heat that the panties wont be on for too long. You adjust the cheeky back perfectly in place, creating a divine sight of the artwork trimming your skin. Slipping the see though lace bra on, your turn to see yourself in the mirror and you take your own breath away. You cup your tits, pushing them in place to avoid active spillage but to look their best.
You cant help but flip your hair, giving it one last volume boost. Quick tip toes across the wooden floors to reach the shelf where your nicer perfumes are, this was worthy of the occasion. Another gift from Gator, you spray Baccarat Rouge 540 into the electrified air before you step forward in a shimmy allowing it to dust onto your skin.
A deep breath fills your lungs as you look around the room. It will soon be memorialized with the intimacy of giving yourself over to Gator. His. Yours.
Split second decision, you swipe off the stuffed animals - banishing them to the woven basket in the corner.
You make your way down the stairs, silent for once. It was if the house was congratulating you, or maybe it was preparing for the moment it was about to witness. Quickly prancing into the kitchen, you pour two glasses of your favorite sparkling white wine. Realistically, Gator is about to walk in with greasy diner food - he is going to be caught so off guard and you were nervous as hell. So, you made the split second decision to down both of your glasses.
Headlights swipe over the front yard and shine through the lace curtains, casting delicate shadows over the walls. Over you.
The soft ambient lighting glows across your little home, candles flickering and making the house smell like velvet and vanilla. You quickly throw on your favorite Daniel Caesar vinyl - a mood setter worthy of this moment. It spills through your speaker system that Gator set up for you, echoing through the whole house.
You make your way to the edge of the kitchen, standing under the exposed wooden beam that trails into the living room. The sound of his cruiser door shutting excites your body, enough where you shiver.
This is what you’ve been waiting for - who you’ve been waiting for.
His heavy boots make his way up the steps to the front porch and you can hear the squeak of the screen door being pulled opened. Keys turn the knob, allowing the man inside. You see him carefully looking down at the door, not willing to drop anything - his hands are filled to the brim.
“When I told Bev that I was bringing home food for ya, she threw like three extra cherries into your shake. I told her she’s spoiling y-”, his eyes finally lift to you.
It was like all of the air in the room had been sucked out.
Heat spread from your thighs all the way up to your neck - exposed, vulnerable, needy, all for him. Only ever for him.
“Holy shit.”
You could see him swallow all the way across the room. His eyes blinked twice, before they just stood open in awe. Gator prayed you couldn’t see the instant problem you created for him below his waistband.
“Hi”
He exhales, unable to comprehend you.
Hi?
The simplicity… the softness - he never could understand that about you.
You had always been a tease, especially when you were just friends. You were the girl who would go braless in a little white tank top and climb onto his lap just to talk to him. You were the girl who would leave the bathroom door cracked while you were showering, just to see if he would be bad enough to try. You were the girl who was too drunk one night and demanded that he come over to make sure you were safe while you slept, and so he did… he stood guard at the end of your bed while you wore close to nothing - he almost lost it when you began playing with the hem on your dress in front of him. He didn’t touch you, but he watched you - needed you. Then there was last night. Riding that mechanical bull, grinding your body up against it. Rolling your hips in front of everyone.
And now? You’re finally his and he has seen all of you… yet, you are shy in front of him now.
How could you be shy? You’ve been a fucking tease for three years straight and yet you’re still shy.
“The fuck are ya tryna do to me?” He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. Disbelief that he has the privilege of seeing you like this. “Ya want me to drop all this damn food?” His eyes haven’t left you, but he takes a step - almost slipping on his drool.
“Surprise?”, you show off a shy smile. Lingerie wasn’t really your thing. Slip dresses? Dainty silk with bows and lace? Yes. Being this bare, this exposed… it was a good kind of new.
“I ain't seen this little outfit before…” He moved closer to you, stretching his arms out to the counter to leave the food there. He knew damn well that his appetite has now changed.
You twist ever so slightly, leaning your hip out causing him to eye your curves. With a delicate touch, you run your fingertips down his arm. The touch causes his eyes to shoot up to your own.
No longer did you see your best friend, your boyfriend - you swear something flickered in his eyes. Dark. Needy.
It was like you came face to face with a hungry wolf.
And yet, you weren’t scared.
“You wanted me out of the house so you could throw on that little thing, huh?”, he took a step forward. Eyes stuck on you, his voice slow and deep. “Playing with fire, pretty girl…”
“Gator baby…”
“Hmm”, he hummed as his hands found your waist and it didn’t take long until they began traveling. His bottom lip gathered in his teeth, eyes half lidded, dick fully hard.
You slowly grabbed your phone off the counter, displaying the exam results that weren’t supposed to arrive until Monday morning.
Letting you hold the phone so his hands can continue roaming, his eyes reluctantly left you and made its way over to the screen.
Stark Medical: Exam Results
Patient cleared for all physical activities
His body stilled, his hands that gripped your ass flexed briefly - twitching from the realization.
This was it.
You watched as his face put two and two together. His chest rose heavy and his eyes slid back over to yours.
His eyebrows scrunched together, trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, “You don’t mean-”.
“That’s a thumbs up, baby.”
Something shifted, the freedom lingered. There was no more questioning, there was only movement.
His rough hands slid under your ass and pick you up, holding you up against him. The two of you shared a breath before smashing into one another in a heated kiss - one that has been building for a long long time.
Gator’s heartbeat loud enough that you swore you could hear it in the break between songs, racing for you - always always always for you. He could feel his muscles tighten in attempts to slow down, but fuck it… he’s been slow, patient, for so long. He crossed the wooden floors, holding you with ease as he walks up the stairs. Calculated and steady - like he was trained for this moment.
His hands knew what they held. He knew what this meant to you, to him.
Trust. Devotion. Love. He knew it.
He knew it.
Plush lips meeting over and over, promises unspoken.
Gator had a million thoughts, a million things on the tip of his tongue - drowned out by your own tongue working him.
I won't hurt you.
I won’t leave.
Thank you for trusting me.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
“Baby…”, he whispered against your lips. Pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.
“You tell me if you need anything. Y’say the word and I swear I’ll stop.”
Your response to him was fingers intertwining into his hair, and pulling his lips back to your own. His foot shoved the door fully opened, walking you into the bedroom. He placed his knee down on the edge of the bed, arms delicately laying you back onto the mattress - lips never parting.
When he pulls back, you can see the shimmer in his eyes - like he had to blink back his tears. He was so good. So deeply good. No one knew how good the big scary Tillman could be - how good he was for you. How much he… how patient he was with you, careful, soft.
Just for you.
Always and forever, if you had it your way.
“Let me take care of you, baby, let me show you exactly what I feel for you”, he whispers against your jaw - you can see it, no smirk, no grinnin, just a smile. True and bright. Unashamed of the joy in his bones.
His lips attach to the hollow under your ear, breath exhaling hot out of his nose against the sensitivity of your neck.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”, he breathed out. One hand held him up, but the other gripped your hip for dear life. He was being good, slow. For you. And it was taking everything in him to restrain himself.
“These damn curls - like a motherfucking goddess, baby”, his voice deepening, “I swear to God, I ain't ever seen anyone more heavenly…”
He mumbled in between the kisses he trailed down your neck. Your name slipping off his tongue like a swear, a promise, a declaration.
“Oh fuck. Hold on.”
He lifted himself off of you completely, bringing in a whipping freeze to your body. He smiled, giving you a look. You’ve seen it before, more than not lately - but you didn’t have a name for it yet. Love, it was love.
“I need to go put the milkshake in the freezer!” His face was lit up like a Christmas tree, glow so strong it made everything around it shine in return.
You belt out a laugh, absolutely shocked at the fact that you told him you were going to have sex with him and yet he is thinking about that damn milkshake. Only Gator.
No, he was already thinking about how well he was going to take care of you afterwards. The soft ways his hands would touch you. How he would wipe you clean. How he’d massage your thighs and belly after because he knew you’d be sore after your first time. And he was definitely thinking about how much you’d want that strawberry milkshake with four cherries afterwards. There was no way in hell that he would let it melt on his watch.
Within seconds, he flew down the stairs and placed the milkshake in the freezer - making a mental note to take it out right after so that it would have time to soften for you. He was back on you before you could even consider moving on the bed. His grin was stretched wide, biting his lip to hold his laughter.
“Sorry baby, I had to take care of future you - hope present you isn’t too mad?”
“Not at all… but if you leave again I will be”, you grin at him, pulling him into you by his shirt smashing his lips onto your own. The contact making him groan, hands finding your sides immediately - his grip tighter than before. His resolve was cracking.
Before you can blink, he rips off his shirt - tossing it with precision into the laundry basket, without a single glance.
His hand slides off of your waist and travels in between your thighs, causing you to inhale sharply. Your eyes snapped open at the contact. Fingertips running over the deep red lace, your wetness soaking through. When his thumb began to run circles over your clit, your head tipped back with a low moan of your own ringing through spilling his name out of your lips. His name mixed with the piano sounds from the speakers - a completed soundtrack to the moment, resonating off of the walls and skimming over the sheets and back up the the tops of your thighs where his length brushed against you.
“I will never leave you. Ya hear me, baby? Never.”, his thumb quickened as he smiled down to you, “As long as my heart is beating, its yours - but you already knew that didn’t cha?”
“Gator-”, his touch, his voice - a love letter that you needed to feel inside you.
“Tell me what you need, princess. Its yours. Anything and everything”, he mumbled against your cheek, sneaking in kisses as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His thumb was already working you so well, and then you feel them.
His fingers slip into your panties, immediately slipping the long thick middle finger inside of you. Buried deep into your pussy, you were already clenching around him. His breath thickened, hot on your neck - your breath? It nearly stopped as he pumped it in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.
“B-baby.. I’m so fuckin close oh my god”
His body shifted, sliding down to his knees onto the rug and buried his face into your heat. Your panties slid to the slide as he ran his tongue back and forth over your folds. Finger still deep inside of you, thumb circling with intensity.
You could feel the pressure building, burning. The only thing you could even manage to get out was his name. Over and over, you moaned it out to him. This only made him more in tune to your body, dying to make it run over the edges because of him.
“Gatorgatorgator oh my god oh my-”, your voice cracks as the white wave flushes over your body, heat moving everywhere. All you feel is him.
As you come down from the high, he pulls his fingers and face from your heat. He lays the slide of his head onto your thigh and brings his hand to his mouth, laying his fingers onto his tongue. Moans leave his mouth as he swallows the spend on his fingers, dripping down to his wrist. He trails his tongue up and down as you watch. Gator wasn’t wasting any of you, all for him, his girl.
You could’ve died happy right there, just watching him lap up your juices from his own hand. It was then that you noticed where his other hand was. He was palming himself through his painfully strained sweatpants, a different piece of him begging for action. His eyes were squeezed shut, memorizing the taste of you. In between licks at his hand, he would turn in to give your thighs sloppy kisses.
His hand continued to work the tip of his cock through his sweats, causing his precum to show through. After your orgasm, you felt like velvet and you didn’t want to think through things. You wanted action. You wanted him.
You lift your foot, toes slipping underneath his palm to lay in-between his hand and the sweatpants holding him in.
“Fuck”, he hissed at the action, eyes wide as you slowly rocked you toes back and forth overtop of his bulge. The hand he had been licked now trailed up and down the back of your calf, the other ghosting over your moving foot.
“Gator. Take them off.” You nod down to his sweats.
He winces because he knows he will obey, but it will cost him the friction of your perfect toes. Pulling back, his eyes meet yours. His hands tug down the waistband, revealing his hard throbbing cock. The disbelief washes over him again, causing him to shake his head and huff out a laugh.
“You sure about th-”
“Shut the fuck up, Gator baby.”
His crooked grin finally making an appearance as he is aroused by your demand, this was his favorite side of you.
“Yes, ma’am.”, he nods once to you.
He begins to crawl up to the bed, causing you to scoot back - his body chasing your own. Your back arched up against him, his hand flat on your back. His fingers graze your spine before finding the clasps of your bra.
“I fucking love this but if it doesn’t come off right now, I may literally die. I don’t know, but I ain't willing to risk it-”
“Oh yeah, we wouldn’t want that… you better get it off for precaution. And fast too.”
“This little outfit of yours is the only thing I will be getting of fast for the rest of the night baby, I fucking promise you.”
You arched against him even more in the arousal, giving him the perfect time to unclasp the metal. Your joined chests being the only reason the fabric is still stuck on. His hand slides up the rest of your back and glides into the base of your curls, giving them a slight tug.
A sharp moan left your lips from the action, making his eyes darken in desire of making you squeal like that again. He tugged the bra from your body, leaving you in nothing but those panties which have been begging to come off since the second they were put on.
“And these… God, your fuckin ass is killing me in em”
They pleaded for him to rip them off your skin. He obliged, not ripping - he needed to see this set again. Not that he wouldn’t buy a replacement if needed.
His hands gathered the fabric, busted fists filled with blood red lace. He slid them down your legs, watching with a tilted head - needing to memorize every little thing about this moment. He would play this entire night in the back of his mind for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know that yet.
When he moved back up to be alined with your body, his dick smacked down onto your thigh. Both of you hissed in need, anticipation.
“Gator baby, I need you - now.”
He could do nothing but nod in agreement, his throbbing cock in pain - needing you as relief.
“If it hurts, if you need me to do anything - you promise to let me know?”
“I promise, get in me now.”
“Fuck, babygirl”, he began to laugh, but your glare stopped him.
“What about a condom? Did you plan for that too? Shit, cause baby, I did not expect this so I don’t have anything on me - not in the truck or cruiser either…”
“Gator, if you knocked me up - I don’t even think I’d care.”
“Holy fuck, don’t say shit like that. Gonna make me cum and I aint even been in ya yet, sweet.”
“Speaking of that… now now now get in me now.”
He quickly nodded and grabbed ahold of his shaft, lining it up to your need.The tip brushing through your folds, coating him. Both of you released a loud moan in the sensation. He lowered his body, bringing your lips to his as he pushed into you.
The feeling of his hard cock pushing all of the boundaries you’ve kept for years was glorious, everything for him him him him him. You felt weightless, grounded only by him.
“Holy fuck”, he grunted out, trying to focus on you but the feeling was overwhelming to him.
“Baby, you doing okay? You hurting?”, he huffed out, trying to blink away his own pleasure to make sure you were okay.
The pressure was intense, something you weren’t prepared for. The feeling of his fingers, toys, hell - even the pap smear tool didn’t do justice to what you had stretching you out inside.
“You gotta talk to me, pretty girl - otherwise were not doing this.”
That snapped out of your daze.
“Don't you fucking dare. Im good. I swear I'm good.” You breath out.
The smile grew on his face, “Yeah? Want me to move a bit?”
“God… please please-”
He cut you off with a slow deep push, not thrusting into you - just pushing into you deeper.
You both being to moan at the sensation, his name spilling out as you nod aggressively to tell him that you want need more.
Understanding and agreeing completely, he began to rock into you repeatedly. Every upward thrust causing a moan to wind out of your mouth, a curse leaving his own.
This felt different than anything he ever knew. You on one hand had only ever known this - he was your one and only. But for him? He felt like he could breathe, maybe for the first time. You were the only person in this cold bitter world to see him as worthy of a deeper connection. He barely had that with his own family, you… you had grown closer than family. You were his family.
His hand reached up and interlaced with you, the other was propped next to your head in order to keep the angle that kept you moaning that pretty way.
The rocking of your bodies caused the bed to begin to squeak, which woke up the house. The walls began to amplify the mind fucked drunk names spilling out of your mouths. The floors adorned your discarded clothing, like it was a gift they had been asking for for months. Even the moonlight blessed you, casting its brightness onto the soft pink hues from your low lights. Like a spotlight, the main event being the two bastards who finally fucked.
His mouth found that little spot on your neck that he loved so much, making you arch into him. The movement shifted his cock inside of you, bottoming out inside of you.
“Holy Shit! Gator, oh fuuuuck!” You scream, thanking yourself for moving to the country.
“And yes, Im fucking okay - don’t stop.” You added, which just made him exhale a laugh into your neck.
You found the pressure to be hypnotizing, and you needed something more. Moving your thigh to the right ever so slightly, you roll your hips upward into his thrust. The action caused Gator to bit down on your neck, holding in his own scream. Muffled groans erupted on your skin. Being weak for you, he began picking up his pace.
He slipped an arm underneath of your hips, angling you up towards him. The new angle made you see stars on the ceiling when you blinked. The sound of his skin smacking into yours was a symphony.
“Ya like that baby? You doing okay?”
You could only nod in response, completely fucked out.
“God… you are fucking perfect. You are an angel I swear. My fucking angel, huh? You my little angel?”, His breath sputtered against your ear. He pulled back to look into your eyes, keeping the same snapping pace - when he saw your smile, he felt himself twitch. Nearly coming undone at the sight of you enjoying him so much.
“Gator making you feel good, honey? You been needing this?”
“Needed it so bad, baby…”
Your voice right now nearly sent him over the edge. He thought about how many perverted times he muted himself on the phone as you would talk his ear off, his hand jerking himself off while you would ramble on about something ridiculous. Coach released a new bag. He came in under a minute. Talking about trying a new haircare line on your clients? Oh, yes, that had him moaning like a bitch. But nothing topped the night you were talking to him while you soaked in the bathtub, he couldn’t even remember what you were talking about - all he remembered was your voice echoing on the ceramic tub and the sound of splashing water. He came twice in his hand that night.
“Fuck baby, keep talking to me-”
The heat rose in your gut when he asked, needing more from you. You had never been needed like this before - it sparked something in you.
“Gator, you feel so good baby. Keep fuckin me, baby. Im only yours.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Shit… fucking mine and only mine-”
You leaned up towards his ear, and whispered out, “Only yours, so fuck me like it.”
His eyes snapped open to look at you, and there it was again.
The wolf, you his prey.
There was absolutely no hesitation to the next movement. Your legs were lifted and placed flush against his shoulders. He sunk himself deeper into your dripping wet heat, it sucked him in greedily. There was no denying how badly you both needed each other. The new position gave him even more room to thrust into you relentlessly, though he tried his absolute best to be gentle… but how could he be too gentle? Your face in absolute awe of the man above you, he needed to do everything in his power to make this the best for you.
He began to move, both of his arms wrapped around your legs. His biceps looked exceptionally huge pushed tight on your legs, tattoos marking his perfect body. His hips slammed repeatedly up against your ass, pumping himself into you.
You felt the pressure building up inside of you again, your hands reach up and grab ahold of his forearms. He lets go with one arm, bringing his hand down to cup your face. He wiped the soft tears that formed in the corners of your eyes, not daring to ask you if you were okay. The smile on your face told him everything he needed to know. He reached for your hand, trailing kisses on your palm and inside of your wrist as a smile formed on his own face.
“Gator-”
“Yeah, baby. Me too.”
“Shit shit shit shit!”, your eyes squeezed.
“Baby, you gotta let me go. Im bout to-”
“No.”
Shit. Okay.
His pupils blown as he looked at you, watching as your hand tightened around him. He felt you clenching around him, drowning out the prettiest moans. When your mouth flew open with a loud curse, he felt the release hit you - slamming him into his own. You felt the hot liquid flushing inside of you, coating you with heat and promises. Gator collapsed onto you, your hand grasping at his sweaty hair instantaneously. Your other hand gripping his shoulder, nails biting into the skin. He prayed you’d make him bleed.
The silence that followed was the high of the end of a concert. Confetti on the ground. Smoke lingering in the air. Bodies rushing out of the venue, but you - the two of you… sat there, staring at the stage in awe. The friendship you had built, the love you made… left you in absolute awestruck.
“I have never-”, he started, choking on his own emotions as he laid buried in your neck, “Its never…”
“What…”
“Its never been like that before…”
“For me either-”, you joked.
He pulled back up, stupid grin on his stupid face.
“Don't start with me.”
“Okay, okay sorry..” You laugh, not knowing how to navigate such a tender moment.
“Its never felt like that before…I swear, I SWEAR this is not post-sex sweet nothings, I promise on my life because I already felt it… but-”
Your eyes locked onto him with curiosity, your bodies still intertwined. The heat of him still buried inside, your skin stuck together with sweat.
“What is it Gator bug?”, you ask.
“I think… no. No, I know…”, his voiced dipped down into a whisper.
“Gator-”
His eyes met yours.
“-I’m in love with you.”
_______
a/n 💌 HOLY SHIT, HOW ARE WE FEELING?
also side note, i’m so sorry but i have been enjoying taking my time with these chapters. i may continue this pattern of one to two a week - takes the stress off and helps me to enjoy my life without feeling guilty.
Your one year rental contract turned into two, and you already talked to the landlord - she was willing to let you rent to own. She never thought anyone would ever want to stay that long, so she hadn’t even considered that being an option when you first started renting. Honestly, no one in town expected you to last the first year. Good thing you had help.
You wake up to the sound of the damn rooster that Gator brought over one day. You were perfectly content having a few hens around, but he insisted that - and he quotes, “These little ladies need a cock to straighten them out”.
When you first moved in, you had considered getting some sort of animal. You were thinking like a cute fluffy cat or a bunny, but then slowly but surely hens started just showing up. You didn’t know your neighbors yet, or even where your closest neighbors were - so you just let them roam.
You were clueless to to the fact that Gator was trying to trap you with some good ol responsibility, knowing damn well a girl like you would fall in love with the animals and then you’d never move away. He snuck a new one on your property ever so often, until he gauged that it would be borderline too much for you. Just enough to keep your hands busy and purposeful, but not enough where they ended up being his responsibility… which, lets be honest, most things in your life started becoming his responsibility. His plan worked, even back then - he knew what you needed. Or maybe what he needed.
Very reluctantly, you tossed your fluffy pink comforter from your body and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Feet sliding into your fuzzy Victorias Secret slippers, your satin nightgown glazing down your thighs and resting above your knee. The fucking sun isn’t even up, yet you are now, all because of the motherfuckin rooster. You decide to make it his problem now too, since he is the culprit.
Grabbing your phone, you make your way to your small ensuite bathroom. Your mini sanctuary and the first of many home projects you had completed…Gator completed.
He took down the harsh florescent bulbs from the ceiling, patching up the drywall and giving your ceiling a fresh white coat. He installed small pendant lights on either side of your mirror, the one you got off of Facebook marketplace - he had to go pick it up an hour away for you. He tried to tell you that there were plenty of mirrors in town… you told him that none compared to this one. He was entirely underwhelmed when he put it in his truck. But then he caught a glimpse of you in the passenger seat, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkly, smiling ear to ear - he decided right there that if you wanted him to pick up a mirror in Russia… he would. No complaints.
The bathroom needed a lot of help. He painted it baby pink, installed a vanity for you that had plenty of room for all your plush skincare headbands, hung up dainty curtains, and he even sketched and painted an tiny little alligator you’d be able to see every time you stood at the sink. Told you that he drew the alligator because you’d spend hours getting ready in the bathroom, making yourself all pretty and being vain and that you needed a reminder that other people exist. You rolled your eyes, but every time you’re in there - your eyes settle on each time. You think that maybe he just wanted you to think of him every time you got ready.
The sun started peeking over the flat North Dakota ground and the light was hitting the hem of the white lace curtains that hung above your clawfoot tub. The tub was around 3 times as old as you, but it worked - and it was roomy. From the back of the door, you yank your softest robe off the knob and slip it onto your arms, not bothering to tie it closed. Glaring at yourself in the mirror, you take in the disheveled image of yourself. You don’t have the energy to laugh, but a small grin creeps its way to your face as you decide that you look like an electrified poodle.
Eyes bloodshot, cause you stayed up way too damn late reading that smutty romance book. You thought the book would be cute and funny, with how bright and spunky the cover was - but didn’t they tell you not to judge a book by its cover? That thing is sin itself. You had never given yourself to someone in that way… smaller acts, yes, but you never could go all the way. It felt so permanent, that you’d be permanently marked - or worse, that you’d be claimed. Anytime you wanted a bit more than your hand, Gator had a way of making that very complicated for you. You enjoyed last night, just you and the book. Lots of feelings were happening in your pretty little head, and lots of physical reactions were happening in your soft cotton sheets. That was the most action you got in probably 6 months, thanks to a certain someone.
The silky thoughts were pulled from your head when you once again heard that damn rooster, that woke you up before the sun. Without another thought, you pull open your contacts and scroll down to the ‘G’s.
Gator Bug.
- this motherfucker woke me up too damn early for the third time this week. i’m gettin pissed off.
🐊: well good morning 2 u 2
He responded fast. Neither of you were morning birds, so that must mean he’s on duty. You already know what that means. You pull your hair back into a low and loose ponytail, long curls flowing down your back. Reaching for the toothbrush, you simultaneously go to respond to the Deputy.
You responded with a smile on your face. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to make him smile this early in the morning, because he definitely didn’t deserve it with how you woke up. You decided to do it anyways. A little flirt. A memory that would make him laugh. A little secret for you two to share while the sun is starting to awaken.
- i mean it, im close to pulling out the shotgun
You knew that would earn a laugh from him, even this early in the morning. You were the worst shot he had ever seen. He found that out the hard way about 3 months into you living in Lehigh.
He took you out back after setting up a mix of your cherry coke cans and his beer cans as targets. You didn’t even wait two seconds for the Deputy to get out of the way before you started shooting - missing each one. He swears you nearly took off his head in the process.
If he didn’t think you were so damn pretty, he would’ve taken the gun away from you that day. You thought he was pretty too. Pretty annoying. Pretty reckless. Pretty horny. And usually pretty good at keeping all of the guys within an arms length from you. You hated that, and he loved it.
Your phone dinged again, pulling you from your memory.
🐊: i’ll go ahead and set up a mile wide perimeter, don’t need a murder happening this early in the day ;)
You smiled just thinking about him smiling at you. The damn rooster screeched again. You could make some good chicken and waffles from it. Or chicken pot pie. Or chicken noodle soup.
Taking one last look in the mirror, you turn and twirl on the slick of your slippers like a ballerina. The creaking of the house below you sounded too angry this early, you agreed with the floor. Flopping down each step of the stairs as if you were saying to your little home, “come on sugar, its time to wake up!”
All the mental talking you did about food got you hungry, and you knew within minutes that you were bound to see headlights. You always did.
Like most habits, it didn’t start out intentional. He started patrolling the country road, where almost no one ever went. You’d see him in town, and he’d always find an excuse to come and talk to you. Noticing you at the grocery store, he’d just happen to drive by and see you needed help unloading groceries. A month into living in Lehigh, someone hit your mailbox. Before the sun went down that day, it had been fixed without you lifting a finger. Deputy Sheriff Tillman, Gator, was just “serving you the people” as he conveniently said.
Your Mamaw taught you lots about cooking, and even more about baking. The most natural way to say thank you in your eyes was to make something for him.
You decided on homemade cinnamon rolls.
That had him.
You should’ve known, too. Mamaw always said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach - you learned that to be true pretty quickly with Gator Tillman. Suddenly, anything you needed done was magically completed with you barely getting a word out about it. He did it, every time. And you rewarded his belly, every time.
Since your first day in town, he was just… there. Never asked him why, didn’t care to. If he helped you, why would you question it? It was nice knowing you had a friend. It was a bonus that this friend was strong, big, scary, sexy, enough to where you basically had a built in guard dog. He never asked for anything in return like some men you knew - okay, thats a lie. One time he did ask you to make those gluten free brownies for him. Roy said that gluten free was for yuppies, but Gator liked how it made them so gooey.
When you reach the floor, you pretend to ice skate across the living room and into the kitchen. Morning light spills into the quiet of your little cottage. The softest hues of pink and yellow flood over your silky night dress, causing a slight glare as you pass by the bay window where your cozy breakfast nook sat.
The best thing about this morning was the preexisting smell of fresh made coffee. You still couldn’t figure out how Gator managed to get the timer set for you so that all you had to do was prep it the night before and it would make it before you got up, bless him. Tugging open the fridge, you grab the milk and eggs. From your pantry, you search for the vanilla extract, cinnamon, bread, and powdered sugar. With a flick of your hand, you mix the ingredients in a shallow pie dish and turn on the stovetop.
Warm headlights cast over the living room, and within seconds you hear your screen door open and the sound of a key in your storm door. His shoulder dips in first, hand still tugging the key out of the knob and then he’s in. Without a beat, the Deputy starts untying his black combat boots and gently places them next to your ‘outdoor slippers’ as he calls them. They are your uggs, you throw them on before making the long trek out to the mailbox or out back to the chicken coop. He silently crossed the house, you’ll never understand how he can be so stealthy. Yes, its apart of his job - but when you walk across that same floor, its like a symphony of wood screaming for you to get off of it.
Suddenly, you feel him. Warm arms slipping around your back and waist, his head dipped onto your shoulder. If it was anyone else, you might be flustered by this. But this is Gator - your Gator. Your nothing but friendly, sweet, loving, strong, handsome - okay, nope this is just Gator. Thats all. Just Gator.
He smelled like iron, wood, sweat, and his strawberry vape. You thank the Lord daily that the Deputy finally made the switch from cigarettes. All it took was for you two to get completely wasted one autumn night, get a bit too handsy with one another which led to him leaning in to kiss you. He had never been that bold with you before, and you were questioning everything inside of you as you leaned in to meet him. You were going to let him kiss you, but you pulled back the last second. He wanted to die right there on the spot when you said you didn’t want to kiss a smoker. He never told you, but he made a mental note of your choice of words… didn’t wanna kiss a ‘smoker’ not that you didn’t wanna kiss a ‘Gator’. You haven’t seen him touch one since. Switched over to vaping, which you didn’t mind as much. Especially because he had a strict list of flavors that were approved by you:
Cotton candy
Bubble gum
Strawberry
Cherry
Though, he never got that kiss… it was always never like that between the two of you. But neither of you thought about it again, just passed it off as a drunk night as two friends of the opposite sex.
“Mornin”, he mumbles. Clearly just as enthusiastic as you are about being up this early. He gives your ribs a little tickle as you push back against his chest which is covered by his thick bullet proof vest, you can feel him smile on your shoulder and the steady exhale through his nose onto your neck. You’re not cold, but you get chill bumps.
“Morning, Gator Bug. Working already?” With one hand you trace your fingers across his forearms that are still wrapped around you, and the other hand flips the French toast in the pan (not very gracefully but its fine).
“Didn’t they have you on night shift like 2 days ago? That’s basically torture. Like genuinely, Im pretty sure that is a torture method…I mean you’d know” You ramble off to the deputy, as you are sure he is moments away from falling asleep standing up. His head is getting heavier on your shoulder, enough where your arm is dipping down. You give him a little push, and he releases you - shaking himself awake.
“Yeah, try telling that to dad.” he says under his breath. You would. You weren’t afraid of Roy Tillman, even though you knew you should be.
The day you finally met the Sheriff was on Gators birthday. He didn’t tell you it was his birthday, he just told you he had a surprise. He knew Roy, Karen, and the girls were gone for the weekend - something about the campaign. With the ranch to himself, he figured it would be time to give your house or the local bar a break from the two of you.
He picked you up in his truck and about 10 minutes later, you were pulling under a sign that felt like a curse ‘TILLMAN RANCH’. Next thing you knew, you were brushing a horse named Dolly and everything seemed right in the world.
Well, until you finally saw your best friends bedroom. That was disgusting.
You personally removed two risqué pictures from beside his bed of women who you thought looked fun as hell, honestly, you had some friends that they kinda reminded you of. But knowing what this man probably did at night made you want to puke. He wanted so badly to protest, but soon enough, you saw him climb onto the bed and stand up. He was taking off pictures from the ceiling. Barf. You wanted to barf. He flopped back down and handed you the pictures, and went to grab one more that he had in his ensuite bathroom. Barf, again.
As he was in there, you heard a noise. Then it got louder. Next thing you know, the bedroom door swung open and your eyes widened probably wider than the moon herself.
Sheriff Roy Tillman stood in the door way with that same ugly scowl. He looked at you, then looked at the pictures. Gator emerged from the bathroom with not a clue as to what was going on in his bedroom.
“Alright, thats the last of em - no more girls… ya happy?” He looked up and then snapped his head to the side, staring at his father. “Dad-”, he genuinely almost coughed out.
Roy, eyes still on you, “Seen you at church. You a good christian woman?”, he questioned.
“I definitely try to be sir”, you reply, wondering where the hell he was going with this. Gator had told you a thing or two, and you heard a thing or two around town.
“And you’re the one my boy has been hanging around with? The girl from North Carolina.”, He more stated rather than questioned.
“Yes, sir. Thats me.” Your voice a bit stronger this time.
Without another word, he looks down at the bikini models in your hand and then up to the walls that they used to cover. Roy gives a slight nod of approval, and looks to Gator.
“And why aren’t you sitting in church son? You follow her around everywhere else… might as well follow her there too.” This wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a statement. It was an order.
He never missed a Sunday with you after that.
The sizzle of the bacon you had absentmindedly thrown into a pan snapped you out of the memory. You were still half asleep, and you knew Gator was probably like 3/4 asleep.
“Coffee. I need it.” you whine out to him… basically begging him.
He loved when you did that. Your little bratty voice, that whine… he is addicted to you it.
The mornings he was here with you, he knew his role. Coffee duty.
After watching far too many tutorials on how to make those leaf designs with the creamer, and staring a little too hard at the baristas at your favorite coffee truck - he learned the craft. Strangely good at it too, and you tell him all the time. You love watching the back of his neck turn pink and his eyes widening before looking anywhere but you. These days, that shade of pink might be your favorite. Sometimes he fully leaves the room for a second, claims he heard a noise or something - liar.
Men are so funny… so easy.
No.
Gator is so funny… Gator is so easy.
He reaches for his mug, and then yours. His mug is a vintage 2003 starbucks mug you found at goodwill one day, it is almost mosaic with bright green tiles and soft pinks that form into flowers. Yours is an old winnie the pooh mug, you found that one at a yard sale. He knew that the first time you served him coffee, it was out of that green and pink flowery mug and since then, he never even thought about choosing a different. From then on, in his eyes - that one was his.
He poured yours, taking his time to perfect it exactly to your liking before he poured his own. Hands warm from the coffee, he placed them on the base of your neck sitting at the tops of your shoulders. It wasn’t that you were cold, but he knows that you get tense without even realizing it and this eases you. You’ve taught him the art of the gentle touch.
At the beginning of your friendship, it was strange and far too intimate. But he was an opportunist. You were walking towards a door? He would open it for you and move his hand to your lower back to guide you in. You were carrying your shopping bags? He’d wrap his hands around your arms, gently making his way down to your hands and slip the bags into his own. You didn’t realize physical touch was so important to you, until Gator came along. He knew these gentle touches grounded you. This was a soft way he could do that for you. He always did things like this, but never fully made a move - after about a year of waiting around for him to, you stopped. You figured he didn’t want that, not with you. And you let it be. Never thought about it anymore.
The silence stretched out, always comfortable… always felt warm. He hands you your mug as you finish with the last of the french toast. You love to make it look a bit fancy, so you drizzle on the maple syrup and the dust on the powdered sugar. Topping his with blueberries - his favorite.
He grabs the plates from you and you grab the silverware. Unspoken routine. If schedules lined up, he was here. If you had an early client at the salon, you had food for him in the fridge waiting - he knew it too. Even on mornings like this when he was on duty, he would always conveniently patrol the country roads near you. If asked about it, he was say he was just doing a welfare check. Because one things for sure, if Gator Tillman wasn’t getting his daily dose of you your food… someone would have to do a welfare check on him.
You hear him slide down on the bench under the bay window, his thigh holster making a brushing noise against the wood. With a soft clank, he sets the plates onto the wooden table (the one he built, sanded, and stained for you last summer). Mornings with Gator were your favorite, mostly because he was finally quiet for once.
You stroll over to the table and slide in beside him. Like a brutally obvious wingman, your soft robe makes you slide in a little further than you meant to - enough where you are all nice and cozied up next to him, unintentionally. The momentum of your body giving his a slight shove. Your little accident immediately earns a wicked grin from him.
He can’t help but make a joke, and you know it’s coming before it leaves his smart ass mouth. You’re already ready for it and shake your head in anticipation.
“Damn, why don’t you just go ahead and climb up on my lap - save the pleasantries, let’s get into it babydoll.” As he wraps an arm over your shoulders.
This guy.
Shooting him a glare, you move over a bit. Giving just enough room for your pride to heal and his ego to subside. You let out a huff, a noise that he has memorized probably more than your own voice.
Before you can protest he grabs your hand. He shakes the smile away and bows his head, leading you into a prayer. Another soft thing he started doing for you after he realized you would silently do for yourself before every meal. God wasn’t uncommon to Gator. He knew about God, he grew up in church and the tough religious traditions of his father. He wasn’t sure if God existed, but if He did - He wasn’t like how his father described Him out to be. But God was real to you. So, Gator willingly obliged… anything to make you happy.
Once he said ‘amen’, there were no words for several minutes. The only noises being the birds outside the bay window, the movement of forks, and Gators moans. You swear he is the most dramatic eater. He would emphasize them a bit too much, just to get you mad - sometimes making you feel other emotions too. Every breath was saved for inhaling the next bite, something you reminded him not to do - especially with french toast (he just inhales the powdered sugar and then has a coughing fit). Before you could finish your one slice, Gator has finished three. You were prepared for that of course, so you slide out of the bench and grabbed more for your the hungry Deputy.
Before he could dig into his second plate full, the crackle of his radio emitted from his vest. You can’t even understand what’s being said under the static, but he sits up straight and eyes flick up to you letting you know he’s gotta go. He slides out and takes two large steps over to you where your hip leans against the counter.
“Thanks, honey. Perfect as always.” He slips a hand behind your head pulling your forehead to his lips with a friendly kiss. With one simple goodbye, he’s gone. You hear the front door squeak close, and soon after, the deep rumble of his cruiser. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
A beat passes before you feel a buzz in the pocket of your robe.
It’s your client, Maya. Todays client. That you completely forgot about.
Maya (client) - “Good Morning! I am so so so sorry but I will be about 30 minutes late to my appointment, if you gotta charge a late fee then I totally understand! I’m on my way!!!!”
…At least one of us is on our way. You swear you’ve never ran faster in your life. The salon is 15 minutes away and your appointment was meant to start in 10 minutes. Thankfully that means you have enough time for the quickest shower of your life, dripping wet curls, no makeup, and a classic all black outfit (your go-to when you don’t want to think).
You already finished your coffee and you downed the rest of Gators that he couldn’t finish, tossing your head back to get every drop before you ran out the door. Your body shook in disgust of his plain black coffee, you could never get him to just add some damn milk.
Stubborn ass.
Jumping in your car, you catch something in the corner of your eye in the front yard. Low and behold, its that damn rooster. You look at it with fury, until you realize that because of him, you had a quiet breakfast with your best friend and now you would get to work before your client.
Thank God for the cock.
You fly out of the driveway and onto the main road, throwing gravel and kicking up dust behind you. You had a lead foot, you’d get there in time knowing how you drive.
There was a rule in Stark County that all the Deputies followed when it came to you. Well, two rules.
They couldn’t pull you over (Gator didn’t trust them enough. You lived down the country road out of town and it never got much traffic. He didn’t want anyone getting any bright ideas.) You took full advantage of this, pedal to the medal.
They couldn’t date you (Again, Gator didn’t trust them enough. He never elaborated on this rule. Ever.)
Pulling into the salon, you barely shift into park before you’re throwing yourself at the front door. Flip on the lights, turn on the diffuser, and grab your apron. You’re not even settled when the door opens, and your client walks in with two coffees. That’s your favorite thing, because if a clients gonna be late - they better not show up empty handed. You are about to be so caffeinated, and you’re fine with it.
“Girl - you will not believe what happened to me this morning. My boyfriends ex shows up and smashes his car windows and slashed his tires… they’ve been broken up for like 3 months! She’s fucking crazy!” She exclaims, a little too loud for your taste. Still too early. “We had to call the cops and everything!”, She continues.
Ahhhhh, the radio crackle.
Maya is booked for a cut and color, and you start with a rough cut because she wants a decent amount of length taken off and then you waste less product. As you snip away at the bleach dried ends, she is telling you all of the juicy details of this mornings fiasco. Being a hair stylist, you hear a lot of drama from around the town. That is probably why you were able to settle in as fast as you did. Secrets hold power, and your clients trust you with their hair - they figure they might as well trust you with their secrets too. You were more than fine with that. Its not like you told anyone anyways, well besides your girls back in NC and obviously Gator.
When it’s finally time to go mix her color, you head to the back that acts as a supply room slash break room. You take a minute to drink some water (you’ve maxed out your caffeine intake for like the next three days within the span of 2 hours), but more importantly, you make a phone call. He picks up on the first ring.
“Miss me already?”
“Ex girlfriend smash up his truck?”
“Oh my God, please tell me-“
“New girlfriend is in my chair”
“Holy shit, how did we get that lucky… you free tonight?”
“Ralph’s? 8 sound okay?”
“I’ll see you there, pretty girl”
“It’s a date, Gator bug”
Your screen flicks to black as you slide your phone into your back pocket. You never call it gossip when you’re chatting shit to Gator. It basically just feels like you’re informing the other half of yourself so that you combined can be fully aware of the piping hot tea.
It’s never out of malice, but it’s always over drinks.
Gators job is to bring the details and damage, and yours is to bring the drama and dirt. He gets the facts, and you get the feelings. Whoever’s information is spicer wins, and the other pays - Gator almost always has to pay. You cant help that you’re a winner.
You grab her color mixture and head to the front of the salon, with a new sense of purpose. It was just healthy competition, no foul play. You’d ask the right questions and pray for the filthiest answers. Your client would talk, and you’d be stashing the information away - hoping for your win. And yes, sometimes you embellished a little to Gator about all the drama, but it’s just for added effect.
You knew that your the Deputy must be pulling all of his strings right now: Looking up the ex, the current girlfriend (Maya, your client), and the boyfriend all in his database. Is that illegal? No, it’s just research for his case… right? Plus, this is Gator we’re talking about here. When has he ever done anything the legal way? You knew that he was corrupt, crooked, and worst of all… a killer - you knew what happened on the ranch. Did you know everything? No, but you knew enough. Did he know you knew it? No, of course not. But, the amount of times you’ve seen him hobbling into your bathroom in the middle of the night, coated in blood - that wasn’t his own? You knew. You didn’t ask. He kept you safe, and you might be naive when it comes to some things… but you’re not stupid.
Your mind drifts back to the task at hand. You begin the ruby color on her hair, telling her how vibrant her blue eyes will look when you’re finished. Deciding that you want to win free drinks tonight, you decide to keep the compliments towards Maya flowing.
“Your man is going to have a heart attack when he sees how good you look… he will forget all about his truck, and definitely all about his ex girlfriend!” You almost hate how slithery you’re being, almost.
“What’s her problem anyway?!” You kept going. Fishing for every little secret your client was willing to let roll off her tongue. She began to list off everything that is wrong with this other girl, without you even probing further.
“- And it was a brand new truck! Literally got it a week ago and now its smashed to pieces. Thankfully, he had Venmoed me the money for this appointment before it all happened”, she continued.
“Oh, he’s paying? Thats nice! I wonder if that’s why she is mad… do you think she knew he was spending all that money? I mean, probably not - if she knew about it, that would mean he is talking to her behind your back”
When you played a game with Gator Tillman, you had to get dirty. Because that boy? He wasn’t afraid to get filthy.
“Yeah, Im pretty sure thats why his ex freaked out, he never spent money on her. She’s knocked up too right now, like she’s I think four months along? Her feet look so big and gross… so I think its pregnancy hormones.” She just casually dropped, not even putting two and two together.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
You could taste the burn already.
You’re a winner.
8pm couldn’t come quicker, and you couldn’t wait to see his face when you told him what you found out.
—
a/n 💌🤧 POSTING EARLY BC I CAN. the reception you guys have given both leather & lace AND myself is crazy. thank you for being here - i hope you’re not too mad at the time jump!! i figured if they were going to truly be best friends who knew each other like the back of their hand, they needed some time under their belt together.
wanted to also give a bit of a warning. this issss soft!bsf!gator BUT he is still mostly OC - will not follow total canon storyline but tillmans are still toxic and deadly!!
MAJOR WARNING ‼️ next chapter will contain graphic material including SA.
Warnings: assumed violence, reader is a tease, mentions of oral (f receiving), kinda kinky nipple play / adult nursing action at this end????? lets be honest, he has a mommy kink.
wc: 2.3k
Before you knew it, you heard the screen door squeak open and then the storm door blew into the living room. His eyes were on the floor, and his jaw was locked shut.
You could hear the yelling, and you definitely heard Wade grunt. But you didn’t need that in order to know what happened, Gators rebusted knuckles were proof enough - not even fully healed from a few days ago when he last swung on Wade. Almost made your stomach churn - but also made it reinforce what he had promised you. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. Wade wasn’t a threat. Gator might’ve not known that, but it was nice to at least see a reminder of his capabilities of protecting you.
“Well…”, you started.
Head still bowed, he glanced up - eyes barely peeking at you.
“Did you at least grab the food before you ran him off?”
His head shot up and face flooded with guilt, “Dammit.”
It came like second nature to roll your pretty eyes at him, but man, you never could bite back that smile. He knew instantly you weren’t mad at him, causing him to relax ever so slightly.
“I bet it was some gross casserole anyways - she’s trying to slim my dad down a bit, your picky ass wouldn’t have liked it”, he states, trying to make it a good thing that he didn’t get the food. Knowing Karens cooking, Gator figured even the chickens would opt out of it.
You crossed the kitchen and topped yourself into his arms, engulfing him in the blanket with you.
“I guess we could order a pizza?”, you suggested.
“Stay up watching some cheesy 90s movies?” He added.
“Oh absolutely, baby!”
Whew. His arms tightened around you, chin tilting down to you - nearly a foot shorter than him. Those big hazel eyes stared at you. Usual grin absent, leaving a real and true smile.
That was the first time you called him baby. Not Gator baby. Not while fooling around together - just with him, soft and sweet.
Baby.
“Oh! I got you such a nice cozy hoodie the other day while at Lucky Mondays - you’re gonna love it and im gonna end up stealin it for sure - Its in the dryer I think, might be a bit wrinkly but oh well.” You ran out of his arms and made your way to the laundry room, bringing all the other clothes from the load too. The last of all the loads from the huge haul was for Gator.
“Go ahead and call in for that pizza at Dizzy’s - oh, but if greg is working tonight then hang up and call O’Malleys. He never adds enough sauce and its pissed me off for the last time”, you started, “and oh my God, while were waiting - you can give me a little fashion show of all the clothes I got you!”
“Ya mean that I got ya? Cause if it wasn’t for me-”, he began.
“Nuh uh, if it wasn’t for you I would’ve still gotten everything! I was planning on gettin everything and I didn’t even know about his little offer yet - I got big girl money, Gator baby, you’re not the only loaded one in this relationship.” You gave the silliest little smirk, in your head all you can think is ‘im datin gator, im datin gator!’ in a sing song voice over and over.
Who could resist a pretty girl like you? He pulled his phone from his pocket and called in for the food, smiling from ear to ear - could it even get better than this? Yes, it can.
While he called in for the pizza, you decided a full fashion show was in order and it was only fair if you participated.
Gator has been forced to be your ken doll several times in the past few years, he knows the routine. You want him to actually try everything on and he will have to endure your fashion advice on how to best style it - his least favorite part would be when you’d pull up Pinterest or show him pictures of a celebrity wearing something similar. It almost ruined it for him… almost - but man, seeing your face light up watching your vision come to life? Him being your masterpiece? That was all he ever wanted to be.
He secretly loved fashion shows with you. Though no one else in the world could know about them. He’s not sure that his father would take kindly knowing his son was doing 360 turns and having to walk on a fake catwalk you’d create with a couple towels. Though… no one else in the world knew how much he loved you, not even he knew just how deeply it ran.
But he was catching on quick.
You knew you had several piles to try on, so the easiest thing you could think of was to grab a fitted sheet from the linen closet.
In the kitchen, you heard Gator arguing with Greg - you both preferred Dizzys Pizza, but you were right - Greg never added enough sauce. You couldn’t help but giggle when you overheard Gator threatening to finally bust him for smoking weed if he didn’t add enough sauce.
The closet door squeaked open and you grabbed your maroon fitted sheet and a couple beach towels, tossing the towels over on the couch. You made your way upstairs and made your way to the chair in the corner where you threw all your clean clothes that you hadn’t put away yet - all of your new clothes were there. Grabbing arm fulls, you filled the sheet and bunched it up. You debated Santa Clausing it by throwing the pile over your shoulder but your back was already a mess from the accident. The maroon sheet was only ever used when you did self tanner or were on your period, so they were basically made to get dirty - so you decided it didn’t matter… you tied up the opening of the sheet and kicked it down the stairs. This is why the house hates you, you do stupid shit like this.
The rolling of what sounded like 10 bowling balls tumbled down the stairs, and slammed up against the couch - causing Gator to stop dead in his tracks and look up at the top of the stairs. His eyes shined like you were the most amusing person in the world, he didn’t want to tell you - but shit like this made him giddy. He never was able to be silly and rambunctious growing up, and now that he is older and has you? Its like you are magically healing his past, filling his present, and blowing kisses towards his future.
“You good up there or should I watch out for another boulder?”, he laughed.
You put your hands on your hips, beaming with pride that your knot was tight enough to make it down the 16 steps.
“No, its okay, Indy. No more boulders.”
“Indy?”, he crooked his head in confusion.
“Indiana Jones…”
“Oh yeah, Ive heard of him - what does he have to do with a boulder?”, he asked.
“Right… so were adding that to the list.”
He loved when you added things to the list. Means that you were anticipating more time carved into the details of your life, just for him - and only him. No one has ever done that for him.
No one chose him. Maybe sometimes for his body, or maybe for his skill set of deadly aim or money tracing - but you chose him for him. You always did. He prayed to someone, maybe God - who knows… but he prayed that you would always choose him. Again and again and again and again.
You turned into your bedroom and slipped on a thong, you didn’t feel like raw dogging some of the jean shorts you purchased. Something came over you, something stupid and fun.
“Gator baby! Turn on some music! Something fun.”
He made his way into your office and threw on one of your Bleachers vinyls, turning the volume to the max. Heading back into the living room, he grabbed the towels to create the makeshift catwalk. He laughed at the imagine on the towels. One was just cheetah print, very you. The other was Strawberry Shortcake. You had made him use that towel one day after a day in the sprinklers. Only a couple weeks into knowing him. Another truly humbling experience with you.
“Ive never seen a sprinkler system like this… are you sure that this is what you wanted? I mean this has a rainbow on it?” He questioned.
“Yes, yes I promise - this is what ive been lookin for! It waters the grass while also being fun! Here, watch-”
You turn the wheel on the spicket and the noodles on the sprinkler spring to life - throwing water everywhere. There was zero warning to the Deputy to what was about to happen, he had never seen anything like this. Next thing he knew, he was being sprayed - the water wasted no time drenching him, especially since he was leaning over the system.
Now to your defense, did you know that it was going to automatically turn on? No.
Did you regret your actions?
The Deputy - Gator. Gator, just Gator. Gator abruptly stood up in shock, white shirt absolutely soaking wet. His pecks on full display, soft yet strong belly sticking to the fabric. Wow… no the fuck you did not regret turning that wheel.
You’d do it over and over again. And again after that.
The laugh that erupted from your gut caught him off guard, he couldn’t tell if he was mad or just shocked - but he knew he would be getting payback.
That is when you felt his arms wrap around you for the first time.
He dragged you over to the flailing noodle sprinkler and forced you to become just as soaked - unfortunately for you, you had skipped the bra that day. Very… very fortunate for Gator.
After the squirming out of his arms and the chasing around the yard, he somehow stripped himself from his shirt - leaving it to become covered in grass clippings. He had just mowed for you.
You still have that green stained shirt folded neatly in your drawer.
When the water fight was over, you had thrown him the strawberry shortcake towel. It was scented, he didn’t notice at first - but you had told him, like you were proud of a towel. Smiling ear to ear as you told him that when you bought it, the tag said the scent would last for 50 washes.
He waved the towel in the air, getting it out of its folded state and laid it carefully on the floor. The scent hit his nose immediately. It had outlasted those 50 washes. Still smells fresh, but maybe that was your magical touch. He smiled at the memory - but was quickly snapped out of it from the sound of the creaking steps as you made your way downstairs.
Breathless, he stood up straight.
You returned downstairs wearing only a pair of lacy red panties, with a little rhinestone in the middle.
Landing on the bottom of the stairs with a loud thud, you grinned up at him. You could already see his sweatpants tighten and his hands began twitching, as if he hadn’t just had plenty of you moments ago. He needed you, desperately. This was a beautiful torture for him, and he loved the unintentional edging you did to him.
You twisted on your heel and grabbed the first item from your pile, he had untied your knot.
The very first thing you pulled was the t-shirt he made you grab, ‘Cowboy Pillows’ right over your tits. You slipped it over your head - and as you pulled it over, you saw him staring. You paused your movements, causing your tits to be perfectly perky and your arms perfectly immobile. He could’ve died happy right there. But then you slowly lifted your foot.
That changed everything.
You placed your foot right above his waistband, your heel dragging over his burning tip. Rolling your toes onto his soft belly, you gave a little push - sending him back onto the couch.
At this moment, he realized that all that money he had spent on strippers in his early 20s was ridiculous because now? His eyes were glued to you… putting on clothes.
You finish slipping the shirt on, and grab into the pile again - finding a denim mini skirt. It nearly covered your ass. You didn’t know if you’d actually ever feel comfortable wearing it out, but in front of Gator? With his chest heaving up and down? With his fingers digging into the couch cushions? You’d wear it for him just for this reaction right here, but you doubted that it would stay on you for long.
You would strut down the faux catwalk, twisting the towels ever so slightly when you’d do a dramatic twirl for him.
The piles were lace, rhinestones, sequence, linens, denim - becoming like a second person sitting on the couch next to Gator, both mesmerized at your next outfit.
The music swelled into the living room, and his eyes were already drunk on you. Your hips swayed to the music as you continued through your pile.
“Thats my favorite.”, He mumbled, slack jawed and half eyed.
You huffed, trying to act tired of him - but never ever.
“Thats what you said to the last five outfits, baby.”
There is was again. Baby.
“And I've fucking meant it every time, you’re too fucking gorgeous. I just want to rip-”
Knock knock knock!
He had been so wasted on you that he didn’t even see the lights in the driveway.
Quickly getting up from his temporary resting place, he grabbed his wallet and headed to the door. Breathing in quickly and exhaling through his nose just as quick, blinking repeatedly to wake him from your spell.
You took the opportunity to quickly slip on one of the raunchier little lingerie pieces to surprise him. It was black, lace, bows, ribbons - an absolute dream for Gator Tillman.
When he turned, holding the pizza - he nearly dropped to his knees.
Seconds later, he was. With you up against the wall. His head nuzzled in between your thighs, tongue sucking on your through the red lace.
The piles of clothes left discarded in the fitted maroon sheet, forgotten. The pizza cooling, you burning.
After two orgasms from his tongue alone, you found yourself back in the cowboy pillows t-shirt and your spit and cum covered lacy panties. You were laying on the couch, Gators head nuzzled onto his ‘pillows’. Every few minutes, you’d feel his fingertips graze your nipple. It wasn’t long until his head was fully laying in your lap as his lips were latched onto one of your nipples, while his fingers played with the other. Your fingers running softly through his hair, comforting the both of you.
He knew what he was doing by telling you to grab that shirt.
————
a/n 💌 i’m so sorry for the wait on this, i hope a fun chapter made up for it. i’ve had a super shitty past hour and lowkey ive been bawling drafting this - so im looking forward to seeing your reactions. it always makes me feel better 🤍
warnings: mentions of masturbation (m & f), friendly spanking, public groping, mentions of killing, probably more tbh?
The bell chimes as the two of you stroll into ‘Lucky Monday’, your favorite thrift store in the county. The smell of stale, stored away clothing rolls through the air and to the pair of you? That smells like Heaven. You snag one of the outdated and faded Walmart carts that they randomly have, and both of you toss your purses into the top - strapping them into the seat with the belt. Just as precious as a little baby, your small leather purse compliments her beaded boho bag.
Victoria eyes around, realizing its row after row after row - best part is? No one else is here.
Just the two of you, and Dale - the owner who is sleeping at the counter, completely oblivious to your presence. Sometimes, you’d wake him up to check out… most of the times you just decided to let him snore and you’d slip a $20 in his shirt pocket. Gator laughed and said they didn’t have cameras and that he’d never let no one bust you if you just wanted to take off - but that didn’t feel right. Dale was a cute old man who liked his radio show that he’d play on a hand held device next to the register, his altoids, and taking heavy ass naps - snoring louder than the radio playing over the speakers most days.
You had brought a decent amount of business to him in the past couple years. You’d catch yourself strolling the aisles in between clients since the salon was a block away. Sometimes you’d be stressed out and would need to hear the scraping of hangers, so you’d show up - Gator said thrifting was your nicotine. After much thought, you began to agree with him on that. Dale even had to leave early one day, something about his cow gettin loose… he gave you the key and told you to lock up for him and he’d allow you to take $40 worth. When he told you that, you called Gator immediately, completely in awe of your luck. He told you anytime you wanted that same luck, he’d go over to Dales farm and let the cow out for you. You had no doubt in your mind that he would too.
The sound of the wheels tumble along the linoleum as you descend down the aisles to your destiny of untapped potential. Soft 90s love songs flow through the speakers above, making this moment easily perfect.
You go through each and every rack, including slipping into the back to check out the z-rack that Dale will bring out whenever inventory looks a little slim. Considering you’re one of the only people who shop at Lucky Mondays often, you decide it is perfectly reasonable for you to get a first pick - plus Dale loves you, he said he reminds you of his granddaughter who lives on the coast.
After about 4 hours, 6 rounds of trying on, and a mental breakdown because the top you liked didn’t fit right - you both were done shopping. 2 Carts filled to the brim. You had everything from houseware, to slip dresses, to clothes for Gator, to a pink zebra print purse, to a little door to have Gator install for when you finally got your kitty so they could go in and out of the house.
At one point or another, Dales radio cracked hard and it jolted him awake - once he realized you were here and that you brought a friend, he decided to stay awake to shout a conversation back and forth with the two of you as you kept browsing the aisles. Bless him. You strolled up to the register, both of you with overflowing carts and he smiled.
“Look at this! You’re gonna sell me out and Im gonna have to go around town stealing peoples clothes off their dryin lines!”, he let out a belly laugh.
Victoria doubles over, grabbing your arms to steady herself - clearly not expecting the previous air horn of a snorer man to have jokes.
“Alright girls… I will do a real good deal for ya. Sweetheart? You think you could put some of that southern charm on the Deputy Sheriff for me? He gave me a parking ticket about a month ago with a fancy QR code and I lost the darn thing. Well I called up the Sheriffs office and they said he would have to make a duplicate or else I gotta go in and pay - and it would be twice as much”, He rambles off, “But he aint been in town long enough for me to catch em! On that fancy work trip or whatever he’s doin - but its gotta be from him.”
“Well Dale, I think I can get that done for you right now. You are in luck, because he is in town until the end of the day! Mind handin me my phone? I may or may not have plugged it in to charge behind the counter before you woke up…” You giggle out to him as his eyebrows shot up in surprise at your sneakiness.
He slides the phone over to you and lets out a low chuckle seeing your screensaver. It was of Gator, mid laugh flipping you off. You remember the moment - you were making fun of him because he was wearing a white button up over a t-shirt and his hair was loose. It made him look like every male lead in a Nicholas Sparks movie, a fucking dream boat. You had changed the screensaver to him a week ago, in the midst of absolute denial that this is the man who you had received the most earth shattering orgasm from. Your best friend.
And you received another one just hours earlier, in a parking lot.
Fuck.
And you were hoping to secure one more by the end of the night.
You pick up the phone and swipe to your text thread -
Oh? My God.
You had sent Gator three different pictures of you in nothing but his camo t-shirt, which you were still wearing even now. One with your hand between your legs, another of your tits with the shirt pulled over top of them, and another of you holding the shirt up by your teeth - giving a full body pose on the bed.
Oh I knowwww you miss me, babygirl
Gator has said that earlier to you, but now everything comes rushing back.
Whimpering out his name. Touching yourself. Fucking yourself. On the phone… with him.
No wonder he got you right in the parking lot. Fuck.
Realizing you are becoming a fucking wet mess because of your text thread in front of both Victoria and Dale, you quickly step to the side and hit the call button.
He answers on the first ring.
“Wow - you’re kinda obsessed with me, whose the fuckin creep now?” He laughs into the phone, surprised that you’re calling. You can hear that damn grin through the phone. Your legs tighten together, unwilling to tell the truth.
You turn and let your back face the other two, who are currently raving over some vintage shirt Victoria found and Dale is pleading with her to not call it ‘vintage’ because in his words “Im 40 years older than that there shirt so if thats vintage, then I'm dust”.
“Hey, Gator baby…”, you say with the softest southern slickness. You know he’d do anything for you when you talk like that. Anything.
He exhaled sharply and immediate. He knew he was done for, absolute putty in your hands.
“Yes, ma’am? What do you need from Gator, honey?”
You smile, you’ve got him now.
“You gave Dale a ticket, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, motherfucker hasn’t paid it yet - gonna have to drag his ass to court if he don’t pay it by the time I get back next week… oh God… why…”, he already knows the exact thing you’re about to say. He can feel it in his bones. In his breath. He knows what the fuck you’re doing - you’re negotiating.
You giggle into the speaker, ever so quiet, “So I may have two huge carts filled to the brim - some stuff for you too by the way. A really cool jacket that will be perfect for this fall-”
“Babygirl, what do you need.”
“I need you to come here and replace the ticket for him. He lost is, and the office wants to charge him an arm and a leg for it. You haven’t been here for him to get a replacement.”, you whisper out, hoping that he will keep his cool if you’re gentle.
“And what-”, he sighs, “If I make him a replacement, he will do what…”
Oh… you know - you didn’t ask.
“DALE!”, you yell out making Gator flinch from the phone, “Whadda I get if he comes over here?”
“You can have it, both of em!”
“GATOR BUG-”, you twist back around and whisper absolutely filled with excitement, “Get your ass over here now”
You can hear him grumble into the phone, kinda muffled like if he put you on speaker, but it doesn’t take but a second for that grumble to sound more like a laugh.
“On my way, princess”
“HE'S ON HIS WAY!”, You squeal out to Dale and Victoria, “Oh my god, I just love you!”
And with that, you hang up.
And with that, Gator almost ran off the road.
His lungs filled with air he never realized he breathed, and electric shocks went down his arms. Heat pooled in his gut, and a ringing alarm went off in his head. Cool it.
Its just something people say.
Something she says.
She would tell a bartender that same thing.
She has told a bartender that same thing.
It means nothing.
Fuck. Fuck.
In a matter of minutes, Gator pulled up in his cruiser this time. You haven’t seen the cruiser in over a month - it felt refreshing to see, a sign that he was so close to coming home for good. Your heart did a little leap and you skipped out the door to greet him.
“Hi.” You were seconds away from screaming. All he had to do was his job for like a minute and you and your childhood best friend would walk out with probably $500 worth of grails.
“Hi”, he replied - clearly realizing you’re about to bust at the seams. All he knows is that he will be getting a fashion show out of this. And you’ll be trying everything on, even the skimpy things he knows you grabbed. Especially those.
You rush over and grab his hand to drag him inside, and when you do - you feel a shiver run down your body and resting between your thighs. This hand was inside of you a couple hours ago.
The bell chimes once more as you make your way into Lucky Mondays with Gator. He makes his way over to Dale, speaking in hushed tones before they both head outside. Gator throws you a little wink, and points to a shirt on the end of a rack and mouths ‘grab that’ - you turn quickly to laugh without Dale seeing. Of course Gator would pick this out.
COWBOY PILLOWS
You and your best friend giggle and yank it off the rack, stuffing it low into the cart.
Minutes later, Dale strolls back in with the biggest smile on his face.
“Little lady, I know that boy is sweet on you but wow… he just let me off scott free and dismissed the ticket.” He chirps.
“Oh my god… I see the appeal of having him around”, Victoria laughs out, eyeing the carts.
Gator pulls the door open, early evening glow making him look like Apollo.
“Cmon, lets get it all loaded.” He laughs out, and tips his hat to Dale.
After the entirety of your truck and backseat are filled in the 4runner, you sneak out of view from the rearview mirrors and steal your deputy away. His hands find your waist immediately, his fingertips burning into your skin and you pray they leave their mark on your body.
“I saw our texts… I don’t remember sending those-”, you whisper out.
He tilts his head and leans down, hovering by your ear.
“Do you remember moaning my name while you were cummin? Tellin me all the sweet little filthy things you were doing thinking bout me?”, he slurred his speech into your ear like velvet, “I came in my hand because of you. Moanin for you like a fuckin loser over the phone. Got back here as quick as I could… had to taste ya baby - and I did.” His hot breath grazing your neck, your knees felt weak.
He slips his hand into your hair and gives it a slight tug, forcing your face up, eyes locked to him. You let out a breathy moan, your fingers latch over his belt and spill slightly into his waistband. His breath shutters at the contact. He has spent hours over the past month with his dick in hand, missing you. Missing your laugh. Your voice. Your eyes. Your smell. You. You. You.
“I expect a fashion show.” He states. Not a question. Not a suggestion.
You nod, breathless as ever.
He releases you and pulls your hands away from him.
Boots making their way up to your driver door, he swings it open for you.
“See ya in a bit, princess.”
The ride back to your little country house was filled with squeals of disbelief, pure shock between both of you. You were also left dripping wet from the conversation you just had.
“I cant believe that he just did that- like… okay Dale just offering and then Gator?! That was so cool and badass! And also, like incredibly nice too.”, Victoria half yells, wind whipping strands out of her braid.
You couldn’t help but smile, you felt proud - like he was your secret power.
The second you got home, you both started hauling loads up the creaky front steps and dropping pile after pile onto the wooden floors.
After your car could finally breath again, you both plopped down to your knees and began sorting.
Delicates.
Darks.
Lights.
Colors.
Bedding.
Gator.
Once the six different piles were formed, you scooped up the first and waddled across the living room to the back built on laundry room was. You crank the water to cold, and hold the button until the machine rumbles to life. Slipping back onto the hardwoods, you catch the pad of your foot on a fallen tank top and land hard on your knees and catch your upper body with your palms.
You look up slowly to Victoria, her cheeks are puffed out and her body begins to shake.
“Fuck you, honestly.”
That made her lose it. You both knelt on the hardwood gasping for air, even a minute late.
The house seemed to forgive you for the jolt of your fall, it liked to hear laugher echo off of its lonely walls.
Four loads of laundry later, and a pile growing on your clothes chair in your room - you and Victoria tried on item after item to decided on the final outfit of the night.
Victoria had a man, she had only herself and her instagram feed to impress.
Meanwhile, you? You had a Gator.
And you had no clue what to do about that.
You try on a handful of items before you come across the outfit of the night.
Short leopard print skirt, black spaghetti strap tank, burgundy lace bra peeking out of the top, red leather purse, and your brown cowgirl boots. He will go feral.
The both of you finish up getting ready, throwing whistles each others way as each others biggest cheerleaders.
You hadn’t slipped on your skirt yet, only finishing your hair and makeup in your tank and matching burgundy lace set. Victoria slaps your ass as she walks by out of habit, and then flips to you.
“Oh sorry, thats Gators property - I probably shouldn’t touch, huh?” She teased.
You rolled your eyes, you’d been waiting for this conversation to spill over all fucking day.
“Victoria…” You warn, with absolutely no threat behind it - sending her a playful glint in your eyes as you finalized your blush.
“Im just saying, I am proud of him. He actually wasn’t a pussy for once with you. You deserve that.” She started, “I don’t know what you guys are doing, but you look like you’re happy. Thats all I could ever ask for.”
You stare at her through the mirror as you apply your cherry lip gloss, in disbelief.
“Are you team Gator?!” You scream.
“I am team youuuuu, but you are for fucking sure team Gator - so maybe by default?” She cautiously replies.
You grab her hand and give it a squeeze. You needed her here.
“Thank you. For being here, for being patient, for helping me grow some balls… all of it. I love you.” You speak softly to her.
After what seems like no time at all, its nearing 9pm and you are on your way to Ralphs.
The booming bass beats and flows into the parking lot, you cautiously avoid the side patio area even though you know there is no threat - it just digs up things for you. You drag Victoria to the door, hand in hand, excited for the night.
Saturdays were always craziest at Ralphs. You had to basically be on top of one another, there was limited room and if you wanted to hear over the speaker system - you had to be close.
You squirmed your way through a crowd of people, some who recognized you and stepped back - whether it was in fear or respect, you knew either way it was because of Gator Tillman. Finding a small booth, you both slide in - thankful to be out of the sea of bodies.
Within minutes, the air stills and drunken shouts lull into hushed apologies. The sea splits and there emerges the man of all your hours.
Dressed in some faded blue jeans, a breathable grey t-shirt, his classic hat, and his sunglasses perched on top - at 9pm. Fucking delicious for no damn good reason.
He slides into your booth, hand finding your thigh instantly causing you to sit up straight as if you were waiting to be praised.
“The guys already ordered us shots”, he yells to the both of you, jutting his chin over to the table of deputies across the bar.
“Shots? I thought you were gonna knock back a beer and get one the road?”, you lean in directly to him, your breath sliding down his neck causing it to pulse a bit harder.
He turned his head to look at you, face inches from one another as his eyes flick down to your lips and then beyond to your chest.
“Yeah well, someones gotta watch out for you two pretty girls tonight, huh? Let the girlies have their fun without any douchebags getting any ideas, right?”
You snap your head to Victoria who looks far too pleased, this wasn’t really her scene. Knowing that the scary deputy would be there with the two of you brought her peace - as did the shots that were being delivered.
“Hi guys! I have 3 shots, a beer, and two tequila sunrises for you.” She smiles, you notice its the same bartender from that night. Your eyes shoot to Gator to see his reaction.
But he is just looking at you.
Victoria greets the bartender, “Thank you so much! We thought it was only going to be shots! Also, we would’ve came up to get the drinks. We didn’t know you’d bring them out - so sorry!”
She smiled back, “Oh its no worries. The other drinks are on us.”, she turns to Gator, “For the other night, that guy had been causin us some issues and I don’t know what you did but he hasn’t been a problem since. So, thank you - also, Im really sorry honey…” she turned and said to you.
You just gave her a soft smile, and Gator gives her a nod - careful not to show the truth of what really happened that night.
The bartender turns and you could get to the shot fast enough.
The rounds kept coming, Gator kept ordering for you both - he nursed his beer after that one shot. You knew that meant he still planned on leaving tonight. Fuckin bummer.
The music pumped through the speakers and into your bloodstream as you pulled both Victoria and Gator out onto the dance floor. You find yourself with your back on Gators chest, with his hands on your hips swaying to the music. Your hands are intertwined with Victoria are you both sing very off key and passionately to one another - the alcohol not having to do much work here, you always felt the most yourself when she was around.
Song after song your ass danced along his hips, you felt him grow harder and harder - it became a bit of a game to you. How long could you circle your hips before his fingertips were digging in, and his lips were at your ear begging - for more or mercy, you didn't know. The room felt hot, you were barely wearing anything yet you wanted to strip bare right there. His hands running the tiny length of your skirt, and daring to slide underneath the hem. The main lights were blown, only leaving the disco ball, spotlights from the speaker system, and the humming neon signs. He could get away with it, he could get away with anything in this county.
If he wanted to pull your skirt up a tad in the back and fuck you right there, he could - the crowd was so loud that you could moan as loud as you wanted. The aching inside of him roared, he cant. He couldn’t. He denied himself as always, because tonight wasn’t the night. And Ralph’s certainly wasn’t the place for the first time.
Tonight he would be asleep in a cold hotel room bed, with you nearly a state away. He only had to endure that distance for a few more days and then? All bets were off, he was yours.
The tequila was hitting you, making you needy and aching. The bass blared behind you and you felt invincible, and wanted to prove it. Victoria tells you she is going to go grab a water, and within a split second, you are alone with Gator in the deep of the dance floor. You don’t hesitate. You knew Victorias eyes were on you both, because you were all she knew here - but now? Anyone who dares to look at you has to face the wrath of the guard dog Tillman. You’ve come to learn his nasty bite, the one you crave.
You guide his hands up your body and force his hands over your breast, giving them a squeeze. The pressure causes them to pop up in your lace bra that is barely covered by the tank. With Gator looming over you already, he has a front row seat to see the movements. He repeats it over and over, running his thumbs over your hardening nipples. You tip your head back onto his shoulder and he instinctively tucks his head into your neck.
He begins kissing your shoulder, then your collarbone, moving up the curve of your neck. Sucking, biting, sure to leave a mark or two. He switches from his lips to his tongue, running a long swipe up the curve of your neck all the way to your ear. His teeth grab your earlobe and releases. He gives the hollow below your ear a kiss, before slipping his tongue over the outline of your ear. You shift your hips back onto him, placing his cock right in the middle of your ass. You roll up onto your tiny toes and give him a long stroke through several layers. Teeth take hold of the top of your ear as he gives a low moan.
The nighttime cool slides in from the side door as someone makes their way inside, and behind you, Gator stills. You open your eyes to see none other than Wade Tillman, lip busted, black eye, and the left side of his forehead braving a small split. He doesn’t look at you, only Gator. He gives one single nod to his cousin, and passes, beelining for the bar.
You go to turn to Gator and he locks his forearm on your hips, keeping you in place and still swaying you to the music.
“Gator bug, what the fuck was that about?” You throw over your shoulder to him.
“Nothin.”
You pull his right hand up to view, and sure enough - his knuckles are freshly busted.
With Gator, you’ve never really asked questions. You knew better. Busted knuckles were apart of his uniform at this point, you didn’t think twice about it. Not the cause. Not the recipient.
You jab your elbow back, knocking him off balance for a moment and enough for you to twist around before you pulls you flush to him again. Now chest to chest.
“Gator Tillman. Why?”
“Why? I fucking killed a man at this very bar for you a month ago for kissing you and forcing himself on you. My own fucking cousin does the same, the very least I can do is teach him his place. He will never look at you again, I made sure of that.” He growls at you, nose to nose. Eyes making deadly contact.
“And if he tries anything again?” You whisper out to him, already knowing the answer - just waiting for the words.
“Then he is dead.”
And with that, you smash your lips to him - knocking the wind out of both of you. His hands grab your ass, and you moan into his mouth spilling out his name over and over.
There it is again, he thought.
That feeling that your kiss might forgive him from every sin he has ever committed, and may ever commit. He knew right then and there.
wc: 3.2k
18+ MDNI NSFW
warnings: mentions of masturbation (m & f), public fingering
You woke up to a thump down onto your mattress, bouncing your body a couple times from impact.
“If you don’t wake up soon, Im going to make myself at home in that kitchen and I know you don’t want that”, Victoria speaks in a sing song way - feeling like its far too early in the morning for that kinda of energy.
You grumble and peak one eye open. Sun is filling your bedroom, despite you feeling like its the ass crack of dawn. Everything hurts, your head, your stomach, your… thigh? You look down to see a rather large bruise that formed on the outside of your right thigh and you are clueless to the cause.
“What time is it… it feels like I got an hour of sleep.”
Victoria looked over to the cheetah print alarm clock.
“Dude… its already 11.”, She laughs out, “Thats why I’m starving… time change remember? For me its already noon!”
You begin pulling the fluffy pink comforter back over your head in denial of the daylight.
“Nope - I need a cheeseburger pronto, extra pickles too.”, she said, pulling the blanket back down and shaking you slightly.
“Alright, let me shower and th-”, you began.
“HELL no, I've been waiting on you for two hours to wake up but you were too busy on the phone with lover boy doing God knows what all night to get a good nights sleep, I could hear you laughing and moaning from across the hall!”, she laughs out to you.
Oh fuck. What did you do?
You grab your phone, ready to bear witness to the embarrassment you pulled yourself into last night - to see you phone completely dead. Awesome.
Victoria finally manages to pull you from bed, giving you a little whistle when she sees you only wearing Gators shirt.
“Look at that ass! Damn, lucky Gator bug!”, she squeaks out, making fun of his pet name in the process.
You stumble into the bathroom, flipping her off in the process.
Your eyes meet the little alligator painting and you cant help but feel a kaleidoscope of emotions: embarrassment, fear at what you might’ve done, and a growing butterfly sanctuary held in your belly for your little alligator.
Victoria screams from outside the door, “I swear you better not turn on that damn shower, just throw on deodorant and lets fuckin gooooo.”
Knowing her hangriness is only going to grow, you hurry up.
Flipping your head over, you tussle your curls to give them live again before quickly flipping it all back up. You throw on your Donna Karan deodorant, and spray yourself with your wonderstruck by Taylor swift dupe perfume. Quickly brush your teeth and spray on some facial spray - making you feel human again.
You swing the door open and run to your drawer, you yank out a black lace bralette and matching panties. Then you pull out some black aerie flares. You opt into staying in Gators camo shirt - you only wore it to bed and it smelled like him. Fuck.
Rushing down the stairs, you nearly slip - causing Victoria to laugh while waiting on you, but also pleasantly surprised at your speed in getting ready.
You throw on your little black jelly flip flops and reach out to snatch your red leather saddle bag purse along with your keys from the vintage storage rack you thrifted.
Victoria opted into wearing a two piece matching black set, a pair of cute vans, and a large boho bag. Her thick straight hair tied back into a braid, sunglasses sitting on her head - ready for the day… at least one of you is prepared for the day, your phone isn’t even charged.
“Alright, lets go - hopefully we can beat the lunch rush!” You say.
“Okay no offense, but Lehigh has a lunch rush?”, she giggled.
You laughed at that too, locking up the front door and heading down the steps - you’re already regretting the flares, should’ve worn shorts but you wanted to cover that stupid bruise.
The ride to town was spent with windows down, speeding, and jamming out to 5 seconds of summer on full blast with your bass enhancer on. Was it obnoxious? Yes. Would anyone dare complain about you breaking any ‘noise ordinances’? You’d like to see them try.
You pull up to the diner, and realize you did in fact beat the lunch rush. Good… you didn’t know if Victoria could wait too long.
“Hey darlin! Oh, aren’t you her little North Carolina friend? I remember you from last summer!” Beverly calls out from behind the counter, the sweetest old lady you think in all of North Dakota. You realized you liked her when she told Roy that Gator could have a second slice of pie if he wanted, and that he deserved it. You never agreed with anyone more.
“Hi Bev!”
“Yes, Hi again! Its nice to be back, and your diner is my first stop!”, Victoria smiled.
Beverly put her hands on her hips and smiled.
“Well… now isn’t that an honor! And is Gator joining you both for lunch? Been missing that boy around here lately!”, she said out to you.
“Oh, he is still working out of town… probably for a couple more weeks. But then, I promise he will be loitering in your booth enough where you gotta kick him out!”, you laugh out to her while sliding into your favorite booth.
Beverly came around the counter with a puzzled face as she reached the table.
“Well, he must be back for another Roy update - because he was in here this morning for some coffee…”
You froze. Victorias eyes flicked over to you.
“Oh? He’s home?”, You say surprised to the woman.
She smiled, “I didn’t mean to stir shit honey, Im sorry… what can I get you two for lunch?”
Victoria orders her cheeseburger with extra pickles, loaded fries, and a coke.
Beverly looks at you.
She waits.
“Honey, I know what you want, Ill go put your orders in”, she walks away with a smile.
Victoria pulls out her phone and slides it across the sticky diner table.
“Call him.”
You look up, and smile at her - you hated being that girl who takes time from her girls to give her attention to a man… but this was Gator, and he was home.
You grab the phone, and before you could even begin dialing his number - your eye catches a familiar black truck driving up main street.
“Oh my god-”, you slide out of the booth, “I will be right back I swear!”
Victoria just laughed as you ran out of the diner, flip flops barely staying on.
You reached the end of the parking lot as he pulls up to the red light across the street from you, he hasn’t seen you yet - but his windows are down.
“Gator!” You yell out.
His head snaps to the sound of your voice immediately, that cocky grin taking over his entire face. He notices no other cars are coming so he runs the red light and pulls into the diner parking lot. Breaking laws to see you - huh.
You ran to the parked truck, as he shuts off the ignition.
He flings open the truck door, and jumps out - immediately reaching for you. He tugs you into his body, wrapping his big strong arms around you. He shoves his face into your curls. You can feel him smile.
“What are you doing here?!”, you squeal out and then quickly look around you before you question him, “You were literally in Canada last night, how the hell are you just - here?”
“What… you complaining?”, he laughs, giving your head a kiss.
“No, oh my god, no. This is great, well I mean I gotta admit - Im bummed because like, Ive got Victoria here and everything which like I love but… I miss you.” You whisper into his chest, breathing him in deep.
“Oh I knowwww you miss me, babygirl.”, he laughs and you begin wiggling out of his grasp but he just tightens around you, “you smell really good.”
“I probably smell like you… wait, what do you mean you know?”
“Okay, one conversation at a time… why would you smell like me?” He laughs.
You pull back enough to pull on your shirt, his shirt. “I wore it last night to bed and it smells like you. Then I didn’t have time to shower this morning, so I don’t smell like me so I must smell like you.”
“No, you smell like you but just better - maybe its our scent mixed together… or ya know, maybe its because I've missed your smell. I don’t know.” He mumbles into your hair, still holding you tight.
You can feel him inhaling you again through your hair, you push away from him a little.
“Stop smelling me, you creep!” You giggle out to him.
His smiled turned mischievous.
“Oh, so Im a creep? Didn’t sound like you thought I was a creep last night, princess. Or did that vodka wipe your memory?”, his hands wandered down your sides, one sliding to the top of your hip while the other slipped back to your ass. He pulled you towards him with the grasp he had on your ass, letting your body lay flush on him.
He looked at you like he hadn’t eaten a meal in weeks, which I mean - technically… that was accurate. His pupils blown, focused straight on you. It made you wonder if you asked him to give you his fingers right there in the parking lot, if he would - yes, he would.
You suddenly were heavily aware of the daylight and the traffic that was picking up, not to mention the prying eyes from inside the diner that included Victoria, Bev, and a couple other locals who knew better than to scoff at the Deputy Sheriff. Both Victoria and Bev sat in the booth together and ate your French fries while you got your ass groped by the absolute smoke show that is Gator Tillman.
“Gator-”, you shyly whisper out.
He hummed, bottom lip caught in his teeth. Eyes shining in the sun, stupid muscles straining the hem of his black t-shirt, even stupider tattoo peaking out - you wanted to bite it. His other hand slides back, now allowing both of his hands to massage into your ass.
You gasp at the tight grab he gives you, eyes flying to his - what has gotten into him.
Your hands traveling up and down his chest to his shoulders, back and forth like you were hoping his shirt would magically come off if you kept touching all over it.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see a few guys walk around the corner - you’ve seen them before at Ralphs. You’ve danced with one of them.
They begin whispering, checking you out as Gator keeps exploring and possessing your body in front of God, the diner, and all of Lehigh.
“Gator baby, there are people around.”
“Are they bothering you, baby?”, he looks over to the men completely stone faced - daring them to keep looking, “Enjoy your day Gentlemen, I know I am!”, He smacks your ass - showing them exactly who it belongs to.
You gasp and smack his chest, fucking embarrassed as all get out.
The men all snap their heads to the ground and fumble into one another, trying to make it down the block as quickly as possible.
“Gator, what the fuck!”, you battled between being pissed off and extremely aroused.
He slipped his hands back up to your waist and tilted his head, giving you a sweet smile and making his eyes shine, “I may be a bit over protective right now… I will admit that…”
“You’ve never smacked my ass in public, or grabbed it for that matter-” you start.
He smiled and licked his bottom lip before leaning into your ear and whispering, “And you loved every fuckin second of it angel. Don’t forget, I know you like the back of my hand.”
He let his lips kiss on your ear for a couple seconds, nearly making your knees give out. You have to completely lean into him. Your eyelids fluttering closed.
“I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to see you, I didn’t want to bother you since Victoria was here -”
That was enough to snap you out of it.
“Holy shit, I am a horrible friend. I just left her in there! Oh my god?”, you pull back, and turn to see Victoria watching you two as if you are in The Notebook.
She smiles and waves, flirtatiously as if watching you both got her in a lovey dovey mood.
“Gator, I-”
“I got some shit to take care of, and then I gotta head back out tonight… maybe the three of us could meet at Ralphs? 9? I can have a quick beer and then head out?”, he suggests.
“You gotta leave again?”, you could cry right there. Still in his arms and you already miss him again.
“Last time. I promise.”, he whispers, pulling you in to his chest, “Were almost done, give me one more week and then Im your problem again, okay?” He laughs, sighing heavily - hoping he can keep this promise.
“Okay… but you better bring me something good. You’ve been gone for a month, that is worth a really cute pair of shoes or a new squishmallow or something, maybe an ulta giftcard.” You say sternly, you don’t play about your gifts from Gator. He had the money and no-one else to spend it on. Might as well spend it on you.
“Deal.” He smiled… and then hesitated.
He thought about last night. He thought about you moaning his name, touching yourself - leading him to do the same and him having to mute his line so you couldn’t hear him. You were enjoying yourself, and letting him hear it - that was a gift and he didn’t need to force it back upon you. But then his mind went somewhere else… to earlier in the night.
“Can I kiss you…?” He whispered, wanting to make sure that you felt comfortable especially since your last kiss was anything but that.
“Don’t ask me that, Gator bug. Just do it-”
He pulled you around the hood of his truck, out of eyesight from the street and diner. His lips were on your before you could even settle your feet into the new location.
He kissed you eagerly, like a starved man. Your hands flew to the sides of his head, pulling him deeper. He pressed you up against the toasty metal of his truck and leaned in, grinding his hardness up against you. You moaned in response to the feeling, you wanted him more than you wanted your next breath. As you moaned into the kiss, he overtook you with his tongue - licking your own passionately. He pulled on your bottom lip, biting down, as his fingers traveled down your sides.
You arched into him, giving him the opportunity to grab your ass again with one hand. The other hand had another destination in mind. He hums into your kiss, pulling your attention off of his hands and onto his mouth on you. He seizes the moment to slide his right hand into your yoga pants and begins to circle your lace panties.
“Fuck baby, I can feel how wet you are through your damn underwear. How badly have you needed me, huh? You need Gator?” He pants into your ear.
You sigh into his shoulder, “Yes, fuck yes I need you - I want you. Please, Gator…”
“How many time have you touched yourself to me since Ive been gone? Tell me the truth…” he demands. Fingers swirling your clit as a pace fast enough to make you see stars and grip onto his shoulders.
“Gator- what if someo- fuck. Gator, what if someone sees us?”, You moan out.
“No no no, baby, you need to answer my question.”, he abruptly stops circling your clit, “Don’t make me repeat myself now…”
“Fuck, Gator! Don’t do that!”, You squirm aching for his touch.
“What did I say? Answer my fucking question, princess.”
“Every night. Every single fucking night Gator.” You cry out to him, embarrassed but so fucking turned on.
He begins to move against you again, sliding a finger into you.
“Holy shit, baby!” You whine, a little too loudly in public.
His eyes widen as if you’ve just unlocked something in him, he adds a second without warning.
“Good fuckin girl, fuck yes - you like being touched like this in public by me, baby? Like that anyone could hear how good I'm making you feel?” He speaks low into your ear, slamming his fingers into you.
“Oh my god, Gator yes baby fuck… shi- shit right there! Don’t stop, please please please don’t stop I am so fucking close baby!” You tense up, wrapping your arms around his neck and body twitching.
“Let go baby, let em hear ya - let em hear who’s taking good care of you, huh?” He growls.
“Fuck! Gator! Holy fuck oh god - Gator, oh god.” You scream out.
You begin coming down from your high, completely holding onto him for balance. He wouldn’t dream of letting you fall, he held you tight until you were done. Fingers sliding out of you, and slipping them into his mouth to taste you.
Your eyes roll bad at the sight, head tipping back - he seizes another opportunity. He takes his fingers out of his mouth, and lays them right down on your tongue. Your eyes flying to him, where he sits slack jawed and looking fucked out without even being touched.
What were you doing to him? He never has been like this with anyone else.
You suck his fingers clean, earning a groan from him.
“I think Victoria hates me now.” He whispered smiling.
He adjusts your clothes for you, and tugs you off of the front of the truck and guides you inside.
The diner is completely silent, all eyes on you.
Fuck you, Gator.
You ashamedly look over at Victoria and she looks like someone just told her she won the lottery - face light up, eyes bright, smiling ear to ear… both your meal and hers have already been eaten. Beverly brings you a fresh order, wearing the smuggest grin.
“Whats up, Victoria.” He casually says, completely ignoring that she just bore witness to the scandal that you just committed together.
“Hey, Gator…”, She held back a laugh.
Gator turns to Beverly and slides her a $100 bill.
“Lunch is on me, and Im sure the tip will be enough not to go yapping about that to the Sheriff… right, Bev?” He says, low and controlled.
“Of course, Gator.”, she smiles.
He looks back at you, who moved back over to Victoria.
“I’ll see you two at 9…” he says, and then walks out the door.
You watch as he crossed the parking lot and back over to his truck, climbing in and roaring the engine to life.
He peeled out of the parking lot, throwing a wink your way and then he was gone.
———
a/n 💌 I FELL ALSEEP omg i’m so sorry but i woke up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and finished edits and now posting hahaha so sorry omg
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 you’ve never seen. He was the one floating in the back of your mind every time another man’s hands were on you, biting your lip to hold in his name.
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.
From the moment his eyes first locked onto yours, you might as well have prematurely answered him-
“I’m yours.”
You knew it, he knew it - no point in hiding.
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 couldn’t breath, couldn’t move on until he really knew.
“Baby, I mean it - I want you to be mine. You’re already my best friend. Hell - you’re my whole fuckin world… lets just be honest.”, he pulled your face into his hands.
You breath escaped you. This wasn’t 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, “I know that I can give you what you deserve. You’d never have to look over your shoulder again. You’d never want for nothin’, baby. This whole fuckin town already sees you as mine anyways, might as well make it official and make me yours.”
Speechless wasn’t really the word, breathless? Out of body experience? Gator Tillman, your best friend, asking to be yours.
“Like your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, baby - worst part is, we aint gotta change shit.”, he giggled out.
“You don’t do girlfriends…”, in all your time with him - never once. No one even made him smile.
“I think you might be my exception.”
There was a pause, you paused - you thought, maybe too hard, too long…
“Hey… if a label freaks you out - then thats okay, we can keep doin it how we hav-“
“Gator… baby….”, you laughed out, placing your hands on his face, matching his own movements.
Your eyes locked onto his, and you’ve never felt anything like it. The fire burning under your fingertips, his glossy eyes glowing in the low lights of the kitchen.
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.
“Wait, okay so… really? You’re my girlfriend now? Like Im your boyfriend. We’re together.”
You couldn’t 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.
“Yes, Gator bug. We are together.”, you whispered in confirmation.
His eyes flashed before you, and for once, they seemed unreadable.
Something new, something that you’re 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.
“Mine.”, he pulled your lips to him gently, slow.
“Mine…”, 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… You’re in-
“Baby… let me taste you. I miss it. Would be a pretty great first moment as your boyfriend- just sayin…”
You swatted at his hands on your thighs, giving him a laugh.
“Im a mess! You do realize that yo-”
“Let me lick myself off you.”, he growled.
Oh-
His lip gathered between his teeth, eyes turning dark - hungry.
“Okay”, 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.
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.
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 -
“My man.”
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 wasn’t going to risk hurting you. The doctors said you would be sore. He couldn’t 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.
“Who the f-”, his eyes whipping to the clock on the stove, “Who the fuck is coming here at 9:08pm in the fuckin night?”
You couldn’t help it - that made you giggle, sending a glare your way.
“Sorry, its just- like thats a bit redundant. Like you could say pm or at night, but it means the sa-”
“Baby, I fuckin know.”, 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.
“Are you out of your fuckin mind, woman? Look at ya.”
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. Wrapping 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.
Wouldn’t you know.
“Do you have a fuckin death wish?”, Gator laughed out, though he didn’t 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.
“Karen made dinner and told me to bring you both over some. Roy said you would probably be staying here-”, Wade began.
“Damn 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.” Gator stated.
Ahhhh, the pissing wars have begun.
“‘Always will be here’… ya know, thats interesting! I don’t 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 weren’t there!”
Gator ticked. A bomb, ready.
“Or 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 Wendy’s and get her home safe and sound? Nope! You weren’t 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 don’t have to like it, but its the truth.”
Gator didn’t waste a second, he stepped out the door - shutting it behind him so you couldn’t 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.
One swing, blood - lip split.
“You do have a death wish, huh?! Wanna keep running that fuckin mouth and see what happens, Wade?”, he started, “Yeah, I wasn’t here for the car accident - but I fuckin risked my entire future to run to her! Im surprised my dad didn’t shoot me dead because of it!”
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 wasn’t able to budge.
Another swing, Gators knuckles bleed.
Continuing on, “And you’re 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 don’t 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 shouldn’t I put a bullet in you, huh? Huh! Why the fuck shouldn’t I? I killed one of the guys just for following her to the bathrooms - he didn’t even have a chance to touch her!” He spat out.
Wade shook under him, drooling blood.
Gator began to laugh, it was evil - tormented.
“And Roy… Roy would marry this girl if it weren’t for Karen being decent. He wants her to have the Tillman name more than anythin, and hell, m’happy to oblige”, voice as strong as whiskey and as deep as the river, “And there aint no one, not even another fuckin Tillman, gettin in my way again… got it?”
Gator jerked Wades head forward and then slammed in back into the grass.
“G-Got it. Yeah, sorry”, Wade fumbled with his words, still squirming under Gators knee.
Gator shifted, lifting his knee and causing Wade to take a deep breath in.
“You know exactly why you were brought here. Keep me on my toes to get the work done. Thats all. You’re job here is done Wadey boy - run on home.”
Wade lifts himself slowly, shifting to his knees before standing upright.
“Gator, she is special. I saw it. I wanted it - whats the harm in wanting someone?”, Wade grunts out, still catching his breath - ribs sore.
