click here for my fic masterlist navigation // click here for my list of personal favourite fics by other writers // click read more for some rules/warnings before you choose to delve in.
i do not give permission to copy, steal or repost my works on any other platform. i do not give permission to feed my work into AI systems. please support my work with reblogs and likes. Copyright @usedtobecooler
18+ only on my account please, i shouldn’t have to reiterate this constantly. as an adult this is my safe space for consumption of nsfw content, this is not a place for children. if you’re over 18 please put your age in your bio, as any ageless blogs will be blocked.
your media consumption is not my responsibility, everything you read on my blog is a work of fiction and doesn't imitate real life.
if you choose to ignore the warnings on my works before reading them that is your prerogative. this is a safe space for all adults and i will try to include any and all triggers i can think of in my warning section, if i miss any you think i should add please tell me so i can edit it.
venturing onto my blog means you will see consistent nsfw posts by myself and other creators. i am not responsible for any of the posts you may see me reblog whilst you’re scrolling out in public, at work, school or anything similar.
anons are turned on for followers and readers to interact with me, ask questions and in general just for banter purposes. if this feature is abused and used to send unfair messages or to bring discourse to my attention it will be turned off to assure my own comfort as well as everybody else’s.
on that same note please do not come to my inbox with drama regarding anything i am not involved in. same goes for trashing other writers or fics — we don’t do that around here.
i think that's it for now! enjoy your time snooping around here, if you go to my favourites tag you will see some incredible works by the most amazing writers, please go give them some love they so deserve it!
lots of love. candy xx
(dividers by the incredibly talented @firefly-graphics)
gator tillman is bad fuckin' news, and you're the moron who keeps running back to him for a quick fuck. because when the sex is that good and his dick is that big, how could anybody say no?
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, vaginal fingering, choking, car sex, dom!gator, size kink, just the tip (it's never just the tip), undernegotiated kink, unprotected sex.
this was the fifth time now. and every time, much to your fucking dismay, just got better and better. to outsiders, a group of gossiping girls, he came across as the stereotypical cocksure guy who thought he knew everything about how to please a woman. thought he was incredible in bed, when in reality he lasted ten seconds and couldn't find a woman's clit even with a diagram in front of him.
the unfortunate truth was he was the exact opposite. he took pathetic amounts of pride in the way that he was able to push all of your correct buttons, fuck you until you were begging and crying for him. you weren't dumb, either, you knew you weren't the only one (heaven knew skills like that didn't just befall him), but he had a way of making you feel like you truly were.
in the back of the cruiser, splayed out on the leather interior, he runs his damp mouth over your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin as a wandering hand slides into the unbuttoned waistline of your jeans.
"shit, you want it, hon?" he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head when his fingertips meet lace, damp and hot. your thighs squeeze his wrist, clamp it in place, unsure of whether it's a desperate plea to get him to keep going or to move away.
and he's so quick, with how he makes you fall apart on his fingers. uses a rough hand to press down on the swell of your tummy to get you there quicker, knows how much you love the pressure when he's two fingers deep and swiping your clit over and over again.
he grins when you fall apart, this violent thing. like a predator that caught its prey and got exactly what it wanted, and you've never felt more wanted in your fucking life, than you are when gator tillman is looking at you.
he strips you both from the waist down, goes to loom over you with that fucking ugly white tank top on and you're practically ripping it off of his torso, needing to see what lay beneath.
he's smug about that, too.
but he's just so nice to look at. toned in a way only a runner could be, clearly spends little time in a gym but the muscle is there, thick hair on his chest and running down his torso.
gorgeous. despite the ugly personality.
he fucks the first inch into you and you're clinging onto the leather seats as if you'll be able to scramble for any sort of purchase on them. he's just so fucking big. difficult to take even still.
you're moaning despite yourself, wanton and lax, arching your back and silently begging for a bit more.
"jus' breathe a little, yeah?" gator's words land like bullets, he's smirking down at you like he finds it amusing, the way the breaths are being snatched from your lungs like this, "you can take me, hon. you've done it before, you're so good."
"good, i'm good." you gasp, head thrown back as he slides another inch or so into you, bullying his way in, and despite how wet you are, your body still jerks back from him slightly, not fully welcoming the intrusion. he's just so much.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
it feels so much better the second time.
and you can't help it, the moan you let out at the intrusion. he's so deep, sodeep, sosodeep.
it's all-consuming. his presence over you, the way he steals even the most basic of body functions from you, the way he buries himself inside of you and takes root like he fucking belongs there.
"gonna fuck you real good now, yeah? i'll take good care of you." his words are soft as he begins rolling his hips, hands roaming down your torso and slithering back up again to land on your tits.
and he's not even thrusting properly yet, good lord. he's pulling out a few inches just to rut back into you again, short, snappy thrusts to let you know he's still settling in to your tight heat.
it's so much. he's so much. it's embarrassing, the way you still act when he starts up, how long it takes you to begin accommodating him.
"god, can't, fuck. fuckfuck, can't do it, god-" you gasp, nails biting into gator's biceps, and you don't miss the way he hisses out a breath.
"yeah, you can." gator coos, all sweet as syrup as he runs a hand down your cheek, a gentle caress before his calloused fingers wrap around your throat instead, just lightly applying pressure.
he tilts his head at you, a quiet 'this okay?' spoken in the damp air, and you nod. because of course you do. so, he leaves his hand on your neck, so large it engulfs you, continuing to squeeze your flesh gently, avoiding compressing your airways.
"like this?" he asks quietly, the only time so far that he's sounded unsure, but his sharp thrusts in and out of you let you know that it's not affecting him negatively. "so wet, fuckin' easy for me."
you nod again, unsure of what it is you're nodding at, moaning when his cock drags along your front wall and begins sliding against your g-spot dead on with each snap of his hips.
you know you're making a mess. can feel the way your fluids drip down your ass and pool on the leather seats below you, leaving a puddle that is sure to be sizeable. you also know gator will want to take a picture of the aftermath to store on his phone, no doubt spreading his fingers over your cunt to show you off to the camera.
you clamp down involuntarily on his cock at the thought and he hisses, squeezing your neck ever so slightly, causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your skull.
"aw, you like that?" gator asks, smirking now with those pearly white teeth of his, vicious and almost sinister, "want more, hon?"
you nod, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes and dampening your temples. he applies a slightly tighter pressure to the sides of your neck, and you can feel every press of each finger to your skin, knowing already that you'll bruise in the shape of his fingertips.
"crying for me, baby?" he teases, thrusting into you with this reckless abandon now, like he's on a mission, "don't worry, not gonna stop 'til you let it all go, hon. keep cryin', fuck, keep cryin', know you're close."
you are. so, so close. body wound tight like a coiled spring as he uses you, spreading you impossibly wider. you can't keep your teary eyes off of his frame, unable to stop yourself admiring the constellation of moles and freckles that spatter over his neck and torso. he's so pretty, so pretty when he's fucking you rough.
the leather of the seats cling to your sweaty skin, every window in the cruiser fogged up with how much heat you're producing. he's fucking you so hard, there's no way that a passerby wouldn't know or see what was happening. if anything, that makes the burning in your gut worse.
"feels s'good," you moan, a little guhh noise escaping your dry mouth, "can't- can't-"
"i got ya, hon. just take it," gator grunts, and he - he fucking spits onto his fingers, rubbing his pointer and middle with his thumb to wet them, as if you even fucking needed it to get you there. then he's taking those spit-damp fingers down to your clit, circling it with precise movements.
"oh, fuck," you cry, spine going taut as your body basically tries to jerk fully away from him, toomuch toomuch, "gator, m'gonna. oh fuck, fuck, fuck."
you're hiccupping, crying big fat crybaby tears because it's just so, so good. too fucking good.
and it's too late, his calloused fingertip catches on your clit just right and the pressure building in your gut erupts violently. your legs dig into the base of gator's spine and force his cock further into you as you cum, mouth open in a high-pitched wail.
"that's it, feel so good baby, god that's it-" gator's grunting, fucking you in sharp thrusts through your peak, hips becoming sporadic as he hurtles towards the edge, "fuckin' tight, christ. m'fucking cumming, uhh-"
you feel it. every pulse of his cock in your swollen, used pussy. overstimulated and raw all over when he collapses on top of you unceremoniously, but you take the weight willingly, immediately burying both hands in his hair and soothing him.
it's a long while you lie like that for. or maybe it's really only a few minutes, you're not sure you can tell the difference with how out of it you are.
so out of it, in fact. that you ask him to come in, when he takes you home after.
gator tillman is bad fuckin' news, and you're the moron who keeps running back to him for a quick fuck. because when the sex is that good and his dick is that big, how could anybody say no?
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, vaginal fingering, choking, car sex, dom!gator, size kink, just the tip (it's never just the tip), undernegotiated kink, unprotected sex.
this was the fifth time now. and every time, much to your fucking dismay, just got better and better. to outsiders, a group of gossiping girls, he came across as the stereotypical cocksure guy who thought he knew everything about how to please a woman. thought he was incredible in bed, when in reality he lasted ten seconds and couldn't find a woman's clit even with a diagram in front of him.
the unfortunate truth was he was the exact opposite. he took pathetic amounts of pride in the way that he was able to push all of your correct buttons, fuck you until you were begging and crying for him. you weren't dumb, either, you knew you weren't the only one (heaven knew skills like that didn't just befall him), but he had a way of making you feel like you truly were.
in the back of the cruiser, splayed out on the leather interior, he runs his damp mouth over your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin as a wandering hand slides into the unbuttoned waistline of your jeans.
"shit, you want it, hon?" he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head when his fingertips meet lace, damp and hot. your thighs squeeze his wrist, clamp it in place, unsure of whether it's a desperate plea to get him to keep going or to move away.
and he's so quick, with how he makes you fall apart on his fingers. uses a rough hand to press down on the swell of your tummy to get you there quicker, knows how much you love the pressure when he's two fingers deep and swiping your clit over and over again.
he grins when you fall apart, this violent thing. like a predator that caught its prey and got exactly what it wanted, and you've never felt more wanted in your fucking life, than you are when gator tillman is looking at you.
he strips you both from the waist down, goes to loom over you with that fucking ugly white tank top on and you're practically ripping it off of his torso, needing to see what lay beneath.
he's smug about that, too.
but he's just so nice to look at. toned in a way only a runner could be, clearly spends little time in a gym but the muscle is there, thick hair on his chest and running down his torso.
gorgeous. despite the ugly personality.
he fucks the first inch into you and you're clinging onto the leather seats as if you'll be able to scramble for any sort of purchase on them. he's just so fucking big. difficult to take even still.
you're moaning despite yourself, wanton and lax, arching your back and silently begging for a bit more.
"jus' breathe a little, yeah?" gator's words land like bullets, he's smirking down at you like he finds it amusing, the way the breaths are being snatched from your lungs like this, "you can take me, hon. you've done it before, you're so good."
"good, i'm good." you gasp, head thrown back as he slides another inch or so into you, bullying his way in, and despite how wet you are, your body still jerks back from him slightly, not fully welcoming the intrusion. he's just so much.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
it feels so much better the second time.
and you can't help it, the moan you let out at the intrusion. he's so deep, sodeep, sosodeep.
it's all-consuming. his presence over you, the way he steals even the most basic of body functions from you, the way he buries himself inside of you and takes root like he fucking belongs there.
"gonna fuck you real good now, yeah? i'll take good care of you." his words are soft as he begins rolling his hips, hands roaming down your torso and slithering back up again to land on your tits.
and he's not even thrusting properly yet, good lord. he's pulling out a few inches just to rut back into you again, short, snappy thrusts to let you know he's still settling in to your tight heat.
it's so much. he's so much. it's embarrassing, the way you still act when he starts up, how long it takes you to begin accommodating him.
"god, can't, fuck. fuckfuck, can't do it, god-" you gasp, nails biting into gator's biceps, and you don't miss the way he hisses out a breath.
"yeah, you can." gator coos, all sweet as syrup as he runs a hand down your cheek, a gentle caress before his calloused fingers wrap around your throat instead, just lightly applying pressure.
he tilts his head at you, a quiet 'this okay?' spoken in the damp air, and you nod. because of course you do. so, he leaves his hand on your neck, so large it engulfs you, continuing to squeeze your flesh gently, avoiding compressing your airways.
"like this?" he asks quietly, the only time so far that he's sounded unsure, but his sharp thrusts in and out of you let you know that it's not affecting him negatively. "so wet, fuckin' easy for me."
you nod again, unsure of what it is you're nodding at, moaning when his cock drags along your front wall and begins sliding against your g-spot dead on with each snap of his hips.
you know you're making a mess. can feel the way your fluids drip down your ass and pool on the leather seats below you, leaving a puddle that is sure to be sizeable. you also know gator will want to take a picture of the aftermath to store on his phone, no doubt spreading his fingers over your cunt to show you off to the camera.
you clamp down involuntarily on his cock at the thought and he hisses, squeezing your neck ever so slightly, causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your skull.
"aw, you like that?" gator asks, smirking now with those pearly white teeth of his, vicious and almost sinister, "want more, hon?"
you nod, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes and dampening your temples. he applies a slightly tighter pressure to the sides of your neck, and you can feel every press of each finger to your skin, knowing already that you'll bruise in the shape of his fingertips.
"crying for me, baby?" he teases, thrusting into you with this reckless abandon now, like he's on a mission, "don't worry, not gonna stop 'til you let it all go, hon. keep cryin', fuck, keep cryin', know you're close."
you are. so, so close. body wound tight like a coiled spring as he uses you, spreading you impossibly wider. you can't keep your teary eyes off of his frame, unable to stop yourself admiring the constellation of moles and freckles that spatter over his neck and torso. he's so pretty, so pretty when he's fucking you rough.
the leather of the seats cling to your sweaty skin, every window in the cruiser fogged up with how much heat you're producing. he's fucking you so hard, there's no way that a passerby wouldn't know or see what was happening. if anything, that makes the burning in your gut worse.
"feels s'good," you moan, a little guhh noise escaping your dry mouth, "can't- can't-"
"i got ya, hon. just take it," gator grunts, and he - he fucking spits onto his fingers, rubbing his pointer and middle with his thumb to wet them, as if you even fucking needed it to get you there. then he's taking those spit-damp fingers down to your clit, circling it with precise movements.
"oh, fuck," you cry, spine going taut as your body basically tries to jerk fully away from him, toomuch toomuch, "gator, m'gonna. oh fuck, fuck, fuck."
you're hiccupping, crying big fat crybaby tears because it's just so, so good. too fucking good.
and it's too late, his calloused fingertip catches on your clit just right and the pressure building in your gut erupts violently. your legs dig into the base of gator's spine and force his cock further into you as you cum, mouth open in a high-pitched wail.
"that's it, feel so good baby, god that's it-" gator's grunting, fucking you in sharp thrusts through your peak, hips becoming sporadic as he hurtles towards the edge, "fuckin' tight, christ. m'fucking cumming, uhh-"
you feel it. every pulse of his cock in your swollen, used pussy. overstimulated and raw all over when he collapses on top of you unceremoniously, but you take the weight willingly, immediately burying both hands in his hair and soothing him.
it's a long while you lie like that for. or maybe it's really only a few minutes, you're not sure you can tell the difference with how out of it you are.
so out of it, in fact. that you ask him to come in, when he takes you home after.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
gator tillman is bad fuckin' news, and you're the moron who keeps running back to him for a quick fuck. because when the sex is that good and his dick is that big, how could anybody say no?
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, vaginal fingering, choking, car sex, dom!gator, size kink, just the tip (it's never just the tip), undernegotiated kink, unprotected sex.
this was the fifth time now. and every time, much to your fucking dismay, just got better and better. to outsiders, a group of gossiping girls, he came across as the stereotypical cocksure guy who thought he knew everything about how to please a woman. thought he was incredible in bed, when in reality he lasted ten seconds and couldn't find a woman's clit even with a diagram in front of him.
the unfortunate truth was he was the exact opposite. he took pathetic amounts of pride in the way that he was able to push all of your correct buttons, fuck you until you were begging and crying for him. you weren't dumb, either, you knew you weren't the only one (heaven knew skills like that didn't just befall him), but he had a way of making you feel like you truly were.
in the back of the cruiser, splayed out on the leather interior, he runs his damp mouth over your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin as a wandering hand slides into the unbuttoned waistline of your jeans.
"shit, you want it, hon?" he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head when his fingertips meet lace, damp and hot. your thighs squeeze his wrist, clamp it in place, unsure of whether it's a desperate plea to get him to keep going or to move away.
and he's so quick, with how he makes you fall apart on his fingers. uses a rough hand to press down on the swell of your tummy to get you there quicker, knows how much you love the pressure when he's two fingers deep and swiping your clit over and over again.
he grins when you fall apart, this violent thing. like a predator that caught its prey and got exactly what it wanted, and you've never felt more wanted in your fucking life, than you are when gator tillman is looking at you.
he strips you both from the waist down, goes to loom over you with that fucking ugly white tank top on and you're practically ripping it off of his torso, needing to see what lay beneath.
he's smug about that, too.
but he's just so nice to look at. toned in a way only a runner could be, clearly spends little time in a gym but the muscle is there, thick hair on his chest and running down his torso.
gorgeous. despite the ugly personality.
he fucks the first inch into you and you're clinging onto the leather seats as if you'll be able to scramble for any sort of purchase on them. he's just so fucking big. difficult to take even still.
you're moaning despite yourself, wanton and lax, arching your back and silently begging for a bit more.
"jus' breathe a little, yeah?" gator's words land like bullets, he's smirking down at you like he finds it amusing, the way the breaths are being snatched from your lungs like this, "you can take me, hon. you've done it before, you're so good."
"good, i'm good." you gasp, head thrown back as he slides another inch or so into you, bullying his way in, and despite how wet you are, your body still jerks back from him slightly, not fully welcoming the intrusion. he's just so much.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
it feels so much better the second time.
and you can't help it, the moan you let out at the intrusion. he's so deep, sodeep, sosodeep.
it's all-consuming. his presence over you, the way he steals even the most basic of body functions from you, the way he buries himself inside of you and takes root like he fucking belongs there.
"gonna fuck you real good now, yeah? i'll take good care of you." his words are soft as he begins rolling his hips, hands roaming down your torso and slithering back up again to land on your tits.
and he's not even thrusting properly yet, good lord. he's pulling out a few inches just to rut back into you again, short, snappy thrusts to let you know he's still settling in to your tight heat.
it's so much. he's so much. it's embarrassing, the way you still act when he starts up, how long it takes you to begin accommodating him.
"god, can't, fuck. fuckfuck, can't do it, god-" you gasp, nails biting into gator's biceps, and you don't miss the way he hisses out a breath.
"yeah, you can." gator coos, all sweet as syrup as he runs a hand down your cheek, a gentle caress before his calloused fingers wrap around your throat instead, just lightly applying pressure.
he tilts his head at you, a quiet 'this okay?' spoken in the damp air, and you nod. because of course you do. so, he leaves his hand on your neck, so large it engulfs you, continuing to squeeze your flesh gently, avoiding compressing your airways.
"like this?" he asks quietly, the only time so far that he's sounded unsure, but his sharp thrusts in and out of you let you know that it's not affecting him negatively. "so wet, fuckin' easy for me."
you nod again, unsure of what it is you're nodding at, moaning when his cock drags along your front wall and begins sliding against your g-spot dead on with each snap of his hips.
you know you're making a mess. can feel the way your fluids drip down your ass and pool on the leather seats below you, leaving a puddle that is sure to be sizeable. you also know gator will want to take a picture of the aftermath to store on his phone, no doubt spreading his fingers over your cunt to show you off to the camera.
you clamp down involuntarily on his cock at the thought and he hisses, squeezing your neck ever so slightly, causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your skull.
"aw, you like that?" gator asks, smirking now with those pearly white teeth of his, vicious and almost sinister, "want more, hon?"
you nod, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes and dampening your temples. he applies a slightly tighter pressure to the sides of your neck, and you can feel every press of each finger to your skin, knowing already that you'll bruise in the shape of his fingertips.
"crying for me, baby?" he teases, thrusting into you with this reckless abandon now, like he's on a mission, "don't worry, not gonna stop 'til you let it all go, hon. keep cryin', fuck, keep cryin', know you're close."
you are. so, so close. body wound tight like a coiled spring as he uses you, spreading you impossibly wider. you can't keep your teary eyes off of his frame, unable to stop yourself admiring the constellation of moles and freckles that spatter over his neck and torso. he's so pretty, so pretty when he's fucking you rough.
the leather of the seats cling to your sweaty skin, every window in the cruiser fogged up with how much heat you're producing. he's fucking you so hard, there's no way that a passerby wouldn't know or see what was happening. if anything, that makes the burning in your gut worse.
"feels s'good," you moan, a little guhh noise escaping your dry mouth, "can't- can't-"
"i got ya, hon. just take it," gator grunts, and he - he fucking spits onto his fingers, rubbing his pointer and middle with his thumb to wet them, as if you even fucking needed it to get you there. then he's taking those spit-damp fingers down to your clit, circling it with precise movements.
"oh, fuck," you cry, spine going taut as your body basically tries to jerk fully away from him, toomuch toomuch, "gator, m'gonna. oh fuck, fuck, fuck."
you're hiccupping, crying big fat crybaby tears because it's just so, so good. too fucking good.
and it's too late, his calloused fingertip catches on your clit just right and the pressure building in your gut erupts violently. your legs dig into the base of gator's spine and force his cock further into you as you cum, mouth open in a high-pitched wail.
"that's it, feel so good baby, god that's it-" gator's grunting, fucking you in sharp thrusts through your peak, hips becoming sporadic as he hurtles towards the edge, "fuckin' tight, christ. m'fucking cumming, uhh-"
you feel it. every pulse of his cock in your swollen, used pussy. overstimulated and raw all over when he collapses on top of you unceremoniously, but you take the weight willingly, immediately burying both hands in his hair and soothing him.
it's a long while you lie like that for. or maybe it's really only a few minutes, you're not sure you can tell the difference with how out of it you are.
so out of it, in fact. that you ask him to come in, when he takes you home after.
gator tillman is bad fuckin' news, and you're the moron who keeps running back to him for a quick fuck. because when the sex is that good and his dick is that big, how could anybody say no?
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, vaginal fingering, choking, car sex, dom!gator, size kink, just the tip (it's never just the tip), undernegotiated kink, unprotected sex.
this was the fifth time now. and every time, much to your fucking dismay, just got better and better. to outsiders, a group of gossiping girls, he came across as the stereotypical cocksure guy who thought he knew everything about how to please a woman. thought he was incredible in bed, when in reality he lasted ten seconds and couldn't find a woman's clit even with a diagram in front of him.
the unfortunate truth was he was the exact opposite. he took pathetic amounts of pride in the way that he was able to push all of your correct buttons, fuck you until you were begging and crying for him. you weren't dumb, either, you knew you weren't the only one (heaven knew skills like that didn't just befall him), but he had a way of making you feel like you truly were.
in the back of the cruiser, splayed out on the leather interior, he runs his damp mouth over your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin as a wandering hand slides into the unbuttoned waistline of your jeans.
"shit, you want it, hon?" he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head when his fingertips meet lace, damp and hot. your thighs squeeze his wrist, clamp it in place, unsure of whether it's a desperate plea to get him to keep going or to move away.
and he's so quick, with how he makes you fall apart on his fingers. uses a rough hand to press down on the swell of your tummy to get you there quicker, knows how much you love the pressure when he's two fingers deep and swiping your clit over and over again.
he grins when you fall apart, this violent thing. like a predator that caught its prey and got exactly what it wanted, and you've never felt more wanted in your fucking life, than you are when gator tillman is looking at you.
he strips you both from the waist down, goes to loom over you with that fucking ugly white tank top on and you're practically ripping it off of his torso, needing to see what lay beneath.
he's smug about that, too.
but he's just so nice to look at. toned in a way only a runner could be, clearly spends little time in a gym but the muscle is there, thick hair on his chest and running down his torso.
gorgeous. despite the ugly personality.
he fucks the first inch into you and you're clinging onto the leather seats as if you'll be able to scramble for any sort of purchase on them. he's just so fucking big. difficult to take even still.
you're moaning despite yourself, wanton and lax, arching your back and silently begging for a bit more.
"jus' breathe a little, yeah?" gator's words land like bullets, he's smirking down at you like he finds it amusing, the way the breaths are being snatched from your lungs like this, "you can take me, hon. you've done it before, you're so good."
"good, i'm good." you gasp, head thrown back as he slides another inch or so into you, bullying his way in, and despite how wet you are, your body still jerks back from him slightly, not fully welcoming the intrusion. he's just so much.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
it feels so much better the second time.
and you can't help it, the moan you let out at the intrusion. he's so deep, sodeep, sosodeep.
it's all-consuming. his presence over you, the way he steals even the most basic of body functions from you, the way he buries himself inside of you and takes root like he fucking belongs there.
"gonna fuck you real good now, yeah? i'll take good care of you." his words are soft as he begins rolling his hips, hands roaming down your torso and slithering back up again to land on your tits.
and he's not even thrusting properly yet, good lord. he's pulling out a few inches just to rut back into you again, short, snappy thrusts to let you know he's still settling in to your tight heat.
it's so much. he's so much. it's embarrassing, the way you still act when he starts up, how long it takes you to begin accommodating him.
"god, can't, fuck. fuckfuck, can't do it, god-" you gasp, nails biting into gator's biceps, and you don't miss the way he hisses out a breath.
"yeah, you can." gator coos, all sweet as syrup as he runs a hand down your cheek, a gentle caress before his calloused fingers wrap around your throat instead, just lightly applying pressure.
he tilts his head at you, a quiet 'this okay?' spoken in the damp air, and you nod. because of course you do. so, he leaves his hand on your neck, so large it engulfs you, continuing to squeeze your flesh gently, avoiding compressing your airways.
"like this?" he asks quietly, the only time so far that he's sounded unsure, but his sharp thrusts in and out of you let you know that it's not affecting him negatively. "so wet, fuckin' easy for me."
you nod again, unsure of what it is you're nodding at, moaning when his cock drags along your front wall and begins sliding against your g-spot dead on with each snap of his hips.
you know you're making a mess. can feel the way your fluids drip down your ass and pool on the leather seats below you, leaving a puddle that is sure to be sizeable. you also know gator will want to take a picture of the aftermath to store on his phone, no doubt spreading his fingers over your cunt to show you off to the camera.
you clamp down involuntarily on his cock at the thought and he hisses, squeezing your neck ever so slightly, causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your skull.
"aw, you like that?" gator asks, smirking now with those pearly white teeth of his, vicious and almost sinister, "want more, hon?"
you nod, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes and dampening your temples. he applies a slightly tighter pressure to the sides of your neck, and you can feel every press of each finger to your skin, knowing already that you'll bruise in the shape of his fingertips.
"crying for me, baby?" he teases, thrusting into you with this reckless abandon now, like he's on a mission, "don't worry, not gonna stop 'til you let it all go, hon. keep cryin', fuck, keep cryin', know you're close."
you are. so, so close. body wound tight like a coiled spring as he uses you, spreading you impossibly wider. you can't keep your teary eyes off of his frame, unable to stop yourself admiring the constellation of moles and freckles that spatter over his neck and torso. he's so pretty, so pretty when he's fucking you rough.
the leather of the seats cling to your sweaty skin, every window in the cruiser fogged up with how much heat you're producing. he's fucking you so hard, there's no way that a passerby wouldn't know or see what was happening. if anything, that makes the burning in your gut worse.
"feels s'good," you moan, a little guhh noise escaping your dry mouth, "can't- can't-"
"i got ya, hon. just take it," gator grunts, and he - he fucking spits onto his fingers, rubbing his pointer and middle with his thumb to wet them, as if you even fucking needed it to get you there. then he's taking those spit-damp fingers down to your clit, circling it with precise movements.
"oh, fuck," you cry, spine going taut as your body basically tries to jerk fully away from him, toomuch toomuch, "gator, m'gonna. oh fuck, fuck, fuck."
you're hiccupping, crying big fat crybaby tears because it's just so, so good. too fucking good.
and it's too late, his calloused fingertip catches on your clit just right and the pressure building in your gut erupts violently. your legs dig into the base of gator's spine and force his cock further into you as you cum, mouth open in a high-pitched wail.
"that's it, feel so good baby, god that's it-" gator's grunting, fucking you in sharp thrusts through your peak, hips becoming sporadic as he hurtles towards the edge, "fuckin' tight, christ. m'fucking cumming, uhh-"
you feel it. every pulse of his cock in your swollen, used pussy. overstimulated and raw all over when he collapses on top of you unceremoniously, but you take the weight willingly, immediately burying both hands in his hair and soothing him.
it's a long while you lie like that for. or maybe it's really only a few minutes, you're not sure you can tell the difference with how out of it you are.
so out of it, in fact. that you ask him to come in, when he takes you home after.
gator tillman is bad fuckin' news, and you're the moron who keeps running back to him for a quick fuck. because when the sex is that good and his dick is that big, how could anybody say no?
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, vaginal fingering, choking, car sex, dom!gator, size kink, just the tip (it's never just the tip), undernegotiated kink, unprotected sex.
this was the fifth time now. and every time, much to your fucking dismay, just got better and better. to outsiders, a group of gossiping girls, he came across as the stereotypical cocksure guy who thought he knew everything about how to please a woman. thought he was incredible in bed, when in reality he lasted ten seconds and couldn't find a woman's clit even with a diagram in front of him.
the unfortunate truth was he was the exact opposite. he took pathetic amounts of pride in the way that he was able to push all of your correct buttons, fuck you until you were begging and crying for him. you weren't dumb, either, you knew you weren't the only one (heaven knew skills like that didn't just befall him), but he had a way of making you feel like you truly were.
in the back of the cruiser, splayed out on the leather interior, he runs his damp mouth over your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin as a wandering hand slides into the unbuttoned waistline of your jeans.
"shit, you want it, hon?" he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head when his fingertips meet lace, damp and hot. your thighs squeeze his wrist, clamp it in place, unsure of whether it's a desperate plea to get him to keep going or to move away.
and he's so quick, with how he makes you fall apart on his fingers. uses a rough hand to press down on the swell of your tummy to get you there quicker, knows how much you love the pressure when he's two fingers deep and swiping your clit over and over again.
he grins when you fall apart, this violent thing. like a predator that caught its prey and got exactly what it wanted, and you've never felt more wanted in your fucking life, than you are when gator tillman is looking at you.
he strips you both from the waist down, goes to loom over you with that fucking ugly white tank top on and you're practically ripping it off of his torso, needing to see what lay beneath.
he's smug about that, too.
but he's just so nice to look at. toned in a way only a runner could be, clearly spends little time in a gym but the muscle is there, thick hair on his chest and running down his torso.
gorgeous. despite the ugly personality.
he fucks the first inch into you and you're clinging onto the leather seats as if you'll be able to scramble for any sort of purchase on them. he's just so fucking big. difficult to take even still.
you're moaning despite yourself, wanton and lax, arching your back and silently begging for a bit more.
"jus' breathe a little, yeah?" gator's words land like bullets, he's smirking down at you like he finds it amusing, the way the breaths are being snatched from your lungs like this, "you can take me, hon. you've done it before, you're so good."
"good, i'm good." you gasp, head thrown back as he slides another inch or so into you, bullying his way in, and despite how wet you are, your body still jerks back from him slightly, not fully welcoming the intrusion. he's just so much.
"where'd ya think you're goin', huh?" he grabs at your hips, hoisting you back the inch that you jerked, his cock sliding back inside you and stealing the air from your lungs once more.
it feels so much better the second time.
and you can't help it, the moan you let out at the intrusion. he's so deep, sodeep, sosodeep.
it's all-consuming. his presence over you, the way he steals even the most basic of body functions from you, the way he buries himself inside of you and takes root like he fucking belongs there.
"gonna fuck you real good now, yeah? i'll take good care of you." his words are soft as he begins rolling his hips, hands roaming down your torso and slithering back up again to land on your tits.
and he's not even thrusting properly yet, good lord. he's pulling out a few inches just to rut back into you again, short, snappy thrusts to let you know he's still settling in to your tight heat.
it's so much. he's so much. it's embarrassing, the way you still act when he starts up, how long it takes you to begin accommodating him.
"god, can't, fuck. fuckfuck, can't do it, god-" you gasp, nails biting into gator's biceps, and you don't miss the way he hisses out a breath.
"yeah, you can." gator coos, all sweet as syrup as he runs a hand down your cheek, a gentle caress before his calloused fingers wrap around your throat instead, just lightly applying pressure.
he tilts his head at you, a quiet 'this okay?' spoken in the damp air, and you nod. because of course you do. so, he leaves his hand on your neck, so large it engulfs you, continuing to squeeze your flesh gently, avoiding compressing your airways.
"like this?" he asks quietly, the only time so far that he's sounded unsure, but his sharp thrusts in and out of you let you know that it's not affecting him negatively. "so wet, fuckin' easy for me."
you nod again, unsure of what it is you're nodding at, moaning when his cock drags along your front wall and begins sliding against your g-spot dead on with each snap of his hips.
you know you're making a mess. can feel the way your fluids drip down your ass and pool on the leather seats below you, leaving a puddle that is sure to be sizeable. you also know gator will want to take a picture of the aftermath to store on his phone, no doubt spreading his fingers over your cunt to show you off to the camera.
you clamp down involuntarily on his cock at the thought and he hisses, squeezing your neck ever so slightly, causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your skull.
"aw, you like that?" gator asks, smirking now with those pearly white teeth of his, vicious and almost sinister, "want more, hon?"
you nod, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes and dampening your temples. he applies a slightly tighter pressure to the sides of your neck, and you can feel every press of each finger to your skin, knowing already that you'll bruise in the shape of his fingertips.
"crying for me, baby?" he teases, thrusting into you with this reckless abandon now, like he's on a mission, "don't worry, not gonna stop 'til you let it all go, hon. keep cryin', fuck, keep cryin', know you're close."
you are. so, so close. body wound tight like a coiled spring as he uses you, spreading you impossibly wider. you can't keep your teary eyes off of his frame, unable to stop yourself admiring the constellation of moles and freckles that spatter over his neck and torso. he's so pretty, so pretty when he's fucking you rough.
the leather of the seats cling to your sweaty skin, every window in the cruiser fogged up with how much heat you're producing. he's fucking you so hard, there's no way that a passerby wouldn't know or see what was happening. if anything, that makes the burning in your gut worse.
"feels s'good," you moan, a little guhh noise escaping your dry mouth, "can't- can't-"
"i got ya, hon. just take it," gator grunts, and he - he fucking spits onto his fingers, rubbing his pointer and middle with his thumb to wet them, as if you even fucking needed it to get you there. then he's taking those spit-damp fingers down to your clit, circling it with precise movements.
"oh, fuck," you cry, spine going taut as your body basically tries to jerk fully away from him, toomuch toomuch, "gator, m'gonna. oh fuck, fuck, fuck."
you're hiccupping, crying big fat crybaby tears because it's just so, so good. too fucking good.
and it's too late, his calloused fingertip catches on your clit just right and the pressure building in your gut erupts violently. your legs dig into the base of gator's spine and force his cock further into you as you cum, mouth open in a high-pitched wail.
"that's it, feel so good baby, god that's it-" gator's grunting, fucking you in sharp thrusts through your peak, hips becoming sporadic as he hurtles towards the edge, "fuckin' tight, christ. m'fucking cumming, uhh-"
you feel it. every pulse of his cock in your swollen, used pussy. overstimulated and raw all over when he collapses on top of you unceremoniously, but you take the weight willingly, immediately burying both hands in his hair and soothing him.
it's a long while you lie like that for. or maybe it's really only a few minutes, you're not sure you can tell the difference with how out of it you are.
so out of it, in fact. that you ask him to come in, when he takes you home after.