Tumgik
#gator tillman oneshot
cozymaples · 5 months
Text
thankful (gator tillman x reader)
warnings: slight misogyny (we all know gator is a pos lol) but they are a couple!!! , degradation, possessiveness, afab!reader happy thanksgiving!!!!!!
"didn't tell me what you're thankful for," gator says, his cock ramming into you from behind. he has you pressed against his bedroom wall, your cheek squished against it.
"i'm-" you start, but you can't finish. tears prickle in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. "yeah?" he asks, scoffing. his hips snap harshly against you, moans spilling tirelessly from your mouth. "i'm thankful i've got me a nice city girl; who i get to teach how'ta fall in line. nice pretty pussy, all to myself." he laughs, almost as if he can't believe that he's actually accomplished making someone like you his girlfriend, but you know that he feels entitled to have such things.
you're not sure how he's managed it, either. his demeanor was something that never failed to make you roll your eyes, scowling every time he was around. every shitty dive bar you found yourself in somehow managed to have him as a resident, without fail. every time. and every time, he would beg you to come home with him; to let a nice country boy take care of you-protect you from 'those shithead city boys,' since he's above the law and all. you'd finally succumb to his antics, finally agreeing to let him fuck you, as long as you got something to show for it. he nearly moans out loud when you agree to be his girlfriend, and the two of you made out in his truck for close to 2 hours-nothing more. which had surprised you, and almost disappointed you, considering all the things he'd said to you leading up to this moment.
"speak up, darlin'. wanna hear you say what you're thankful for." your eyes roll back into your skull as you whine, a brain fog of lust dizzying you as his free hand reaches up to squeeze your throat. his other hand is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into his thrusts so you can really feel his cock ramming into you. "'i'm-m'thankful for you-" you sob, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you speak with such vulnerability. "yeah? bet you are, sweet thing. thankful for this cock rammin' into your tight little pussy, i'll bet. such a pretty thing, too-fuckin' dripping every time she sees me." you choke out broken moans as your face presses harder into the wall, the dresser beside you shaking from the movements. "god, i love you-" he says, and he finishes the sentence so quick that you can tell he hasn't meant to say it this soon. "god fuckin' dammit-" he groans, lowering his hand from your waist to your clit.
his forearm still keeps you steady, angled against your stomach. he uses the opportunity to gain control of the situation, despite meaning what he said. "say it back. say you fuckin' love me." he demands, rubbing messy circles into you clit. you feel like you could pass out, overwhelmed from the pleasure, as well as his confession. "i love you-i-" you say, sincerely. "again." he demands. "m'gonna fuckin' come, sweet thing-shit-again-" he moans, groaning out his words. "i love you, i-" you say, tears spilling as you feel your orgasm approaching. your pussy clenches around his cock, and it sends both of you over the edge. his grip tightens on you, his hand around your throat and his fingers rubbing rapid circles against your clit. "come-" he demands, "on my count. one, two.." your fingernails scrape against the wall, broken sobs of pleasure leaving you. "three." you both come undone, feeling his load spill inside of you, dripping out of you when it has nowhere left to go. you finish, both of your orgasms now dripping down your thighs. he keeps his cock inside of you, thrusting once, then twice, hard, to make sure he fucks his load back into you. he's still got you by the throat, finally leaning forward to press kisses along your jaw. "there you go, honey. you like that?" he asks, and you nod. "i know you do. know you love it when i fuck you good." he finally pulls out of you, the absence of his cock making you whine.
you don't know whether or not to mention the 'i love you', so you opt against it, smoothing out your skirt. "meant it' by the way." he says, avoiding eye contact as he takes a drag from his vape. you can't help but glance over at him, a tiny grin working its way onto your features. "meant it too." you say, nodding once. "c'mon," he says, draping his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side.
"gotta have dinner, then i'll have you for dessert."
486 notes · View notes
wroteclassicaly · 4 months
Text
Pick You Up At 7
(Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: When your date goes bad, Gator reacts in unexpected ways.
Warnings: Language, implied smut/smut, low self-esteem, body dysmorphia, food insecurity, fat phobia, fat shaming, Gator and reader roast one another, have nicknames, mentions periods, Gator being a tad misogynistic, anxiety, and depression.
Word count: 2,913
Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader
A/N: This one isn’t for the faint of heart, folks! It’s straight up self-indulgent, it’s intense. So… yeah. Read the warnings and read at your own risk! Wanted to provide a little release/comfort for myself, and I’m proud of this one!
Tumblr media
You knew they were laughing as soon as you got into the office the next morning. Not so subtle hushed whispers and baiting for remarks that you’d normally snap back with. But you keep your head down, lunch forgotten in the car. You’d never let someone tell you what he had last night, not usually, but you’re sure that it’s what you expect from the guy you hate yourself for really wanting - will do, that’s got you worked up the most.
No, that’s a lie. It’s an added situation, but what happened on your date last night, you’ve never felt so disgusted or panicked.
The men continue to talk before they go back to paperwork and shit talking, leaving you to shed your winter attire carelessly by your rolling desk chair. You sit down as if it’ll break, pulling your long gray buttoned down cardigan over your form. It’s not what you usually wear, either. Proud to show off your figure, knowing the guys here aren’t into your extra pounds, it never bothered you that much to put your cleavage on display while working in the police station as their only secretary. If they have any inkling towards you, then it’s ‘do me a favor’ or ‘get a beer for me, maybe join the rest of the boys as we hit on every other female but you’ kinda thing.
The air in the place changes before the sound of his thick leader combats approaches your desk. You keep your head down and plead, pretending to organize old files that are ready for the shredder.
Please don’t. Please don’t come over here. Please. Please.
“Hey, twerp.” He leans over the counter, vape in one hand, his newly freed arm propped across his other.
You raise a brow as your simple acknowledgement, trying to hold your breath as his cedarwood cologne and mint hair gel soak into your nostrils when he bends down to sort through the little decorative holographic candy dish you keep. Annoyingly, seconds later he’s whining. “Where’s the goods at? The fuck? Shit’s practically empty.”
Go away.
You manage to speak, cringing at how cracked your voice is, dangling over the precipice of breaking down. Here. In front of everyone. In front of him.
“I’m working right now. Go to the Dollar Tree if you want candy so fuckin’ bad.” You don’t even address him with a nickname or his last name. And it unnerves him. With a shove of your small crystal bowl, you watch the leftover mints slosh onto the counter and over your papers, and only then your reaction is what he wants. He needs you to look at him.
He’s smirking and chewing on the filter of his vape, blowing a smoke cloud into the air and making you grit your teeth. That clock in the distance sounds louder, cheaper. And Gator Tillman takes your distracted gaze and creeps around and starts looking at your desk. It’s your space here, regardless. And up until now, he used to know that too. You sigh, asking him what he’s doing,
“Where’s your purse, kid? You must be hiding it all in there. You on the rag, that it? Would explain why you’re being a bitch and the stuff isn’t here.”
“Gator…”
He kicks your coat aside, but pauses his searching when you say his name. Like a damned addiction he can’t yet admit to
“Calm your granny panties down. Where is it at?”
“It’s not here.” You’re losing control of yourself. He keeps pushing.
“Why? You know nobody gives a shit if you bring your red tide plugs in here. Can’t have you bleedin’ all over shit. It’s mighty unprofessional, you know?”
“Take your shriveled little ballsack elsewhere, I’m bored with you.” He’s grateful you’re engaging, hands sliding over his cargo pockets and patting.
“Or —“
Your heart rate accelerates, knowing exactly where this is going. It’s why he originally came to your desk, you’re not stupid.
“ — You didn’t get laid last night. Would also explain this crap.”
“Stop it.” It's pathetic, a weak demand, even to your ears, but it’s all you got, that anxiety clawing your esophagus and winding up around your lungs like a cobweb, squeezing like a vice.
“I told you he was a loser, darlin’. You never listen. So what happened?”
“I asked you to quit.”
“And I asked you what happened. What? He’s too much of a pussy to put it in when there’s a little blood? Did it make him queasy —“
You’re out of your chair and facing him, hands on his leather jacket. And he’s down in your chair, the wheels moving so fast that he flies back and hits the filing cabinet, scattering things everywhere, his legs coming up and then his heels slamming down rather comically. The guys howl in the background, making Gator having to inhale sharply to get it together. You’re walking away from him and down the hall to the restroom where he follows, walking right in behind you and slamming his hand on top of the metal stall door to prevent it from closing.
You try but it’s no use. Your fight is gone, the burn blurs your vision, scorching your throat, making everything hazy.
“You don’t fuckin’ do that to me in front of them, you hear me? You don’t disrespect —“
A sniffle that would’ve been quieter, it echoes in the expanse of the cold, gray walls. You pass him and find yourself clutching the sink, pleading. It’s like you’ve lost all ability to walk, to think, to process how to guard your tightly kept emotions.
And it scares Gator Tillman to death.
“Gator, please just go away?”
His boots creak and squish on the floor as he pivots and finds a space beside you, folding knuckles resting beside your hand, nearly touching, a warmth that threatens you both within its encasement.
“Is this about your outfit? The baggy sweater thing? You know the guys all stare at your big tits when you wear those other tops, right?”
You’d laugh, even be prideful, but you don’t believe a damned thing right now. Because in spite of what he says, you know Gator has a soft spot in his heart that isn’t touched by his namesake’s cruelty. You shake your head and watch him take the vape out, your eyes glistening with tears when you take in his form. He blows a line of smoke and damn near chokes when he sees the actual tears drip down your cheeks.
“Can I have a hit of that?” It’s a bold move. In part because you always roast him for it, and two, because his mouth has just been on it and he’ll get to taste you. You’ll be tasting each other.
He hands it to you, fingers brushing yours. He wants nothing more than to touch you, and he has to fight himself where he stands, feeling an electricity at the nape of his neck that shocks his flesh full of goosebumps, as you wrap your lips around the mouthpiece and puff a few times, coughing. He smiles softly, in spite of the situation.
You, you’re trying to mull over how you can taste his minty saliva beneath the nasty ass acidic fruit cloud that’s misting over your lungs. “Jesus Christ, what flavor is that?”
Taking it back, he’s all too eager to sample you, clicking his lips together and pocketing the vape. “Think it’s banana kiwi.”
There’s a comfortable beat before you both remember why you’re here. It dawns on Gator then, and you both know it. There’s this dark look that pools in the mossy oak of his gaze, drowning out all rationality. His voice cracks sharp, a tone that you’ve never heard before. “Did he hurt you? What happened last night?”
“Just drop it, okay?” You find your voice again, but Gator is already seeing red, a tunnel vision of fire and brimstone with your date from the night prior.
You aren’t ready for it, not in the slightest. Your skin prickles to life, body drenched in elation, relief, and struggling to catch up with your racing heartbeat. His pointer and middle fingers find your chin in the gentlest press, tilting. “Kiddo…”
“Doesn’t matter what he did.”
“You know it fuckin’ does.” Gator’s thumb twitches as it catches a teardrop. It tracks across your jaw and back.
You’re a little angry now, finally snapping at him like an animal that’s cornered. “Fine. You wanna know what he did, Mr. Prom King?” Gator winces at how you use his former title, clearly not impressed. You didn’t run in the same circles and he knows where this is going.
“Twerp, c’mon —“
“Just shut your mouth and listen for once, since you want to know so badly.” Your hands leave the speckled counter and you step away, swiping at your damp eyes. “He took me to dinner and waited until the waiter came to take our orders, to tell them that he wasn’t paying for mine. And you know, I just thought he was a douche. But I guess he had the smarts to wait until the waiter left again before he told me that what I ordered wasn’t appropriate, so he didn’t feel comfortable paying for it.”
Gator, still a little confused, speechless, questions, “Well, what did you get?”
“Steak and fries.” You want to scream at what Gator is not seeing.
“But most people like that kinda shit? I eat that every weekend —“
You blow out a breath that causes you to choke on a small whimper. This causes Gator to change his tune. “Wait…”
“He thought I should have the side salad for ‘someone my size.’ And after dinner was over, he made it a point to inform me that no one would go out with someone dressed in a dress that tight. How embarrassing it is.”
Gator is positively seething now, teeth clenching. And the fact that you wore this for the dickbag and he wasn’t all over you?
“I pointed out that at least half a dozen women in the restaurant were wearing more revealing outfits, that it’s not up to him or anyone else to judge. And he couldn’t wait to cut me off to let me know that he didn’t care about that. He cared about…” Your voice breaks and you laugh in wet disbelief.
“He cared about what?” Gator’s tone is at toxic levels now, nearing a whisper.
There’s no way to hide how you're openly sobbing now, snotting, lower lip quivering. “He cared about girls like me thinking guys like him wanna see someone who weighs this much, wearing something like that.”
“He needs his ass strung up on a barn door and used as target practice —“
“Don’t act like you give a shit, Tillman. I’ve seen the posters in your room, the girls you flirt with at the bars, the ones you talked to in school. Don’t be a fucking marauder with me.”
“How do you know? You didn’t even know me in highschool!” He’s offended and it pisses you off. Another fib. In this small town everyone knows everyone, or at least hears of them - that is a given.
“Oh, I knew you. I knew your crowd. And you all made it abundantly clear I was to stay out of the way. You’re just like all of the other assholes around here when it comes to how you treat women, nothing changes. Weight defines everything, even when it shouldn’t, no matter what body type a person has. It always does to people.”
“Then why the fuck did he ask you out if he was going to act like a bitch?” Gator goes straight for it with a sigh of confusion.
You laugh this time, a sound that levels Gator with diabolical unease. “He was bored and wanted someone to get him off, so he thought I’d be an easy enough, sure thing. Entitled fucking prick.”
It’s a somber silence after, your dying sniffles ceasing as you swipe your nose and attempt to collect yourself, stomach hollow and nauseated. You can’t stay here anymore, not after this. You manage to look at Gator and step with one hand on the bathroom door. “I’m going back to work. If you can not tell the other guys, I’d appreciate it.”
And as Gator is left alone in the cool, dim light bathroom, he’s already formulating an idea, going straight out the back entrance and into his squad car.
Tumblr media
The next hour went by quicker than you thought, giving you time to push away all thoughts of your confrontation and reveals with Gator. You’ve given him more ammo to tease you with, but you’re also wondering why he’s not here? You’re in the midst of stacking new department funding files when you hear it. Your date’s voice.
“I didn’t do nothin’! You know I didn’t!”
And another, one that has your mouth going dry.
“Get your ass movin’, pencil dick.”
Your jaw is close to dropping, becoming unhinged seconds later as Gator rounds the corner in his gear, your date’s collar clutched in his fist, the vape in the other, and a very noticeable split across your date’s lip, complete with a bloodied nose. Gator stops short in front of the desk, shoving your date into its edge. He’s panting heavily, raising a brow at you, Gator amused from behind.
“Hey, twerp.” Gator grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Got a booking for ya to process!”
“I… what?” You come up with.
“You gonna tell her what you did, shitbird?”
“What’s going on?” You and Gator are going back and forth, your former date nearly ignored. This is not a coincidence. And you’re practically glued to your chair at the notion that Gator went after him in your honor.
Does this mean…?
“Caught this fucker side swiping candy at the damned Dollar Tree. What kind of prick does that when it’s a dollar?”
“I was not!” Your date is shouting.
The Dollar Tree? Wait…
You feel as if you’ve been hit with a pillow and swallowed the feathers, enjoying their light tickles that scratch at your throat. You want to laugh. By golly, you almost do. Gator whistles for another officer that takes your date down the hall. Seconds later he’s leaning on bended elbows, jacket crunching, his voice a whispered hum for you to hear, and you alone.
“Didn’t wanna forget this.” He unravels his arms and slides one into his pocket, his massive palm full of the candy you both like. He lets it spill into your dish, waiting a few beats before speaking again. “All good now.” With a snatching of his favorite piece of chocolate, he knocks his knuckles on your countertop.
“Get him processed in, yeah?”
You nod dumbly, watching him walk away. He turns around and waves with one finger, however, before he meets the other policeman and your ex-date.
“By the way, be ready at seven. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get supper.” He elgonates a leather clad arm, fingertips drumming on the doorway. His voice is raspy when he focuses back on you, eyes dark in a completely different way. “Wear that dress too.”
Your legs tighten together and you pinch at your cardigan, fanning yourself.
“You get your ass movin’ down that hallway, short stack!” Gator finishes, turning to you one last time and flashing a cheeky little wink.
Tumblr media
Gator did indeed pick you up in his truck. Seven on the dot. He wore nice dark jeans and a crisp white button up, loosened to let a silver chain peek out, nestled amongst the thick chest hair, his leather jacket over him, hair slicked back, and his watch and normal boots. You wore that tight dress with a little unease, and slightly heeled boots over your sheer black tights, a few rings adorning your hands. When Gator walked you to your side of the car after walking you out of your house, you weren’t regretting anything about the purchase of the form fitting dress any longer.
When you got to dinner, Gator waited as you ordered, encouraging you to get the steak and fries that he knew you wanted. And after drinks, you shared the biggest piece of chocolate cake in the joint. Conversation flowed easy, felt good. Your old date wasn’t mentioned, but you both knew. Gator had taken you back to his place (per your request), where he’d laid you down in his bed and held your legs open until you were begging him to fuck you. And that he did.
His hand splayed atop yours, your dress around your waist, he’d taken you from behind, plaster escaping his paneled wall as a result. When that had ended, he’d stripped you free of everything, and walked you to his mirror, chin on your shoulder, fingers in your cunt. Showing you what he liked about your body, but telling you that it doesn’t matter what anyone but you thinks. And if anyone thinks differently, he’d put them all away. Impractical, but enough to cause you to cream his thick digits and soak his floor.
The next day, you’d worn your most low cut top with pride, settling at your desk to another empty candy dish. When you look up, Gator is smiling in your direction, that damned vape in one hand, candy wrapper in the other.
We all need someone to help us feel good about ourselves sometimes.
Tumblr media
266 notes · View notes
stevesxyellowxsweater · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Dating Gator Tillman would include... (post finale)
Waiting for Gator while he's in jail,
Helping him read braille,
Comforting Gator at moments when he is feeling weak,
Letting him hold your arm to guide him,
Gator holding you close when you sleep,
Helping him learn his way around the house,
Letting Gator learn your face,
Spending hours exploring each others bodies,
Having sex being a whole new experience,
Gator spends a long time feeling every single inch of you,
Gator finding a new appreciation for music and sharing it with you,
Watching him learn and evolve,
Making it the norm to tell him what you're doing,
Both of you becoming very vocal during sex,
Finding ways to help him become independent,
Comforting him through the grieving process,
Going with Gator to get a guide dog,
Long comforting cuddles,
Letting Gator rest his head on your lap,
Bringing him oatmeal raisin cookies,
Having Dot, Wayne, and Scotty round for dinner,
Building models of the area to help him get around,
Assuring Gator you love him no matter what,
Always buying him Mountain Dew and jerky,
Watching Scotty and Gator bond over music,
Always falling asleep with the radio or tv playing so he doesn't feel alone,
Having family dinners,
Always letting Gator know he's not worthless,
Him one day saying he loves you,
and meaning it.
view more characters here
76 notes · View notes
togeprinxess · 4 months
Text
Can we have more virgin!Gator fics!? PLLLLEASEEE 🥵🥵🥵🥵
I’ll do anything 😭
22 notes · View notes
atinylittlepain · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Gator Tillman Masterlist
Series
Filth
15 notes · View notes
joshlmbrt · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
STVEHARRINGTN PRESENTS….
Tumblr media
! there will be a mix of angst (hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort) & fluff. content warnings will be at the beginning of every thought/oneshot/drabble - if there is a certain song you would like to be tagged on, let me know in the comments!
Tumblr media
valentine’s day is a time for loving others & yourself. a time for imagining sweet scenarios and thoughts.
so, here’s a small playlist while you get stuck in daydreams of kisses, cake, and chocolate hearts.
LIKED SONGS 💌 Scott Street - Phoebe Bridgers (Galentine Special) 💌 Bad Idea Right? - Olivia Rodrigo (Gator Tillman Drabble) 💌 Prom Song (Gone Wrong) - Lana Del Rey (Jimmy Darling Oneshot) 💌 I’d Rather Go Blind - Etta James (Eddie Munson Oneshot) 💌 Not Like I’m In Love With You - Lauren Weintraub (Steve Harrington Oneshot) 💌 I Miss You, I’m Sorry - Gracie Abrams (Carmen Berzatto Drabble) 💌 Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey (James Patrick Thought) 💌 Make Up Your Mind - Florence + The Machine (Steve Harrington Drabble) 💌 The Last Time - Taylor Swift, Gary Lightbody (Det. David Loki Drabble) 💌 Just Like Heaven - The Cure (Steve Harrington Thought) 💌 Head Over Heels - Tears For Fears (Truck driver!Dad!Eddie Munson Drabble) 💌 Ceilings - Lizzy McAlpine (Gator Tillman Oneshot) 💌 Ivy - Sombr (Spencer Reid Drabble) 💌 Work Song - Hozier (Steve Harrington Thought)
Tumblr media
-comment below if you’d like to be tagged in any one of these before they go up! these will be queued up and scheduled!
again, this is an idea from many, many talented people i’ve seen and there is too many to tag!
97 notes · View notes
loveshotzz · 10 months
Text
Leighanne’s June Fic Rec’s
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
inspired by @superblysubpar & @ghost-proofbaby I reblog as much as I can but I’d like to try and do one of these once a month to share some of my favorites. (also these all came out around various times of the year, just some of my faves i think of from time to time.)
all of these writers blogs are 18+ please respect their boundaries and read all their warnings and make sure to go and tell them how much you loved whatever fic by them you read. it truly fuels our creativity knowing people like what we’re doing. i can’t tell you how many times literally one person saying something nice about my writing has made my whole day. I think about your sweet reblogs all the time and re read them on my bad days 💕 and i know other writers do too.
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson
@carolmunson - Love Language
@chestylarouxx - Bite Me, Please
@courtingchaos - Braised
@superblysubpar - Might Love Me, Baby
@newlips - That feel good baby? // The Sheep
@abibliophobiaa - Begin Again
@boomhauer - Disjointed
@lilacletter - Eddie listening to you when you get spoken over
@ghost-proofbaby - Summertime & Stardust
@bewilderedbunny - Weed Man
@trashmouth-richie - Best friends Blurb
@myosotisa - I’m starvin’ darlin’
Tumblr media
Steve Harrington
@rustedhearts - The King of The Ring
@stevenose - Camboy Steve Series
@carolmunson - Always Something There To Remind Me // PBV!steve series
@superblysubpar - We’ll Call It Love & Summertime Magic - Steve’s story
@sweetsweetjellybean - If Tomorrow Never Comes
@upsidedownwithsteve - A Slow Motion Love Potion
@abibliophobiaa - Beyond
@lilacletter - Keep Trying // It’s golden, like daylight
@dr-aculaaa - Dad!Steve series
@roanniom - The Shift
@usedtobecooler - Alt!reader x king!steve (my request 🥰)
@wroteclassicaly - going crazy for steve’s happy trail
Tumblr media
Steddie x Reader
@sweetsweetjellybean - Aftermath
@newlips - dtotd steddie x reader
@upsidedownwithsteve - Something Unholy
@blueywrites - To Know You’re Mine
@lilacletter - invisible string
Tumblr media
Gator Tillman
@courtingchaos - Shared Inflicted Pain & the oneshots that follow.
@wroteclassicaly - Gator shows you he owns you
(I’m sure I forgot so many, but there’s always next month. I love all of you so much 💕)
233 notes · View notes
heartbreak-sandwich · 8 months
Text
✨ Master List ✨
18+, MINORS DNI ~ Ageless or underage blogs will be blocked; this content is for adults only. Thank you for understanding 💕
{❤️‍🔥} smut {✨} fluff {🔥} angst {🕊️} contains trigger warnings {📖} series {💭} headcanons {🦄} oneshots {👽} au
🔥 REQUESTS ARE OPEN 🔥 📖 Currently writing for: (Stranger Things) Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers; (Fargo) Gator Tillman *If you have any requests outside of the scope, just send me a message, and we can talk about it! ✨
*Thank you so much to those who have enjoyed my work! Feedback, comments, and reblogs are amazing forms of support and always so appreciated!*
Tumblr media
HOHOHOE WEEK 2023 HOLIDAY MINI SERIES Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (JJ Feron) BLUE CHRISTMAS {❤️‍🔥📖} CANDY CANE LANE {❤️‍🔥📖} WARM ME UP {❤️‍🔥📖}
YOU MADE A FOOL OF DEATH WITH YOUR BEAUTY (finished) Jennifer's Body AU Billy Hargrove x Tommy Hagan; Billy Hargrove x Jason Carver {❤️‍🔥👽🦄🕊️} [Read on Ao3]
RED LETTERS TO NOWHERE (WIP) Stepbro!Billy Hargrove x Mayfield!Reader {📖✨🔥👽❤️‍🔥} [Read on Ao3] 💕 CHAPTER ONE: Move-In Day CHAPTER TWO: Certain Type of People
ANIMAL MAGNETISM (finished) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {📖🔥❤️‍🔥} [Read on Ao3] 💕 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
ECHOES OF REDEMPTION: LOVE AND SHADOWS IN HAWKINS A Tale of Growing Up, Rock 'n' Roll, and the Battle Against an Unseen World (WIP) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {📖👽} [Read on Ao3] 💕 CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR
HE'S THE BAD GUY (finished) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥✨🦄}
BILLY HARGROVE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭}
JEALOUS BILLY COMFORTS YOU {✨🦄}
SIDES OF BILLY ONLY YOU SEE {💭✨}
WAKING UP NEXT TO BILLY {✨🦄}
🐊 Gator Tillman🐊
69 IN A 60 (finished) Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥}
Tumblr media
KISSING HEADCANONS {💭}
STEVE HARRINGTON IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭}
Tumblr media
THE CUMPETITION (finished) Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler {❤️‍🔥🦄👽}
EDDIE MUNSON IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭}
FULL CIRCLE WARNINGS (finished) {🔥🦄👽}
PLEASURE DOM EDDIE BLURB Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥}
💕 Argyle 💕
ARGYLE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭}
💕 Jonathan Byers 💕
JONATHAN BYERS IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭}
💕 Other 💕
ST BOYS UNEXPECTED TALENTS {💭✨}
METALHAMSANDWICH DOMESTIC CUTENESS {💭✨}
MUNGROVE MEETING {✨🦄}
RONANCE BLURB - NANCY REALIZES HER FEELINGS {✨🦄}
ST GIRLS DURING BAD BREAKUPS {💭🔥}
ST BOYS AS FATHERS {💭✨}
This list is updated regularly! ✨ Please feel free to send me an ask or message with any requests or questions, and thank you so much for visiting 🥰
131 notes · View notes
melodymunson · 11 months
Text
About me & Stranger Things & Joe Keery characters masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
About me
Moodboards
Masterlist
My profiles/socials
Fanfiction net profile
Wattpad
Ao3
All fics contain NSFW. 18+ only. All fics are oneshots except for the rockstar Eddie x fem!reader series & cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie. Only writing reader (Y/N) x character and character x character now. Open for requests. I write for Eddie, Steve, Robin, and other Joe Keery characters.
Blurbs:
Eddie x fem!reader x fem!groupie
Stobin blurb
tumblr fics
newest fic 
Goth cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie Munson chapter 1 of 2
Goth cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie part 2 of 2
Fem reader x Steddie Halloween
Gator Tillman x fem reader Fargo head canons 
Kurt Kunkle x fem reader oneshot
Steddie x fem!reader oneshot need u tonight
Platonic Stobin x fem reader oneshot
Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Chrissy Cunningham oneshot
Eddie Munson x Reader x Corroded Coffin groupie
Steddie x fem reader flesh for fantasy
Steddie x fem reader valentines head canons
Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem reader head canons
Other works and ao3 versions of fics
Rockstar Eddie x groupie x reader ao3
flesh for fantasy Steddie x fem reader ao3
Steddie valentines ao3
Rockstar Eddie head canons ao3
Steve Harrington x fem reader x Eddie Munson need you tonight
Steve and Eddie are your roommates. They hear you one night talking in your sleep and saying/moaning their names. They come to see if you are alright and find you touching yourself.
Gator Tillman x fem reader head canons I belong to you
Just head canons for Gator x fem reader and their life together
Kurt Kunkle x fem reader rock you like a hurricane oneshot
As Kurt's #1 fan, you go out of your way to meet him and drive Spree with him. You go on to commit violent acts together and depravity. You show virgin Kurt the time of his life and he has all of his sexual firsts with you.
Steve x Eddie x reader Christmas
Steve Harrington, Eddie and you spend an amazing night at Steves's place after a Christmas party and make it an early Christmas to remember forever.
Cheerleader reader x Eddie Munson
3-part series slow burn strangers-friends-lovers. You were dating the hottest jock in school until one day you meet Eddie and your life changed forever.
Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x fem!reader love my apocalyptic
You were former friends with Chrissy Cunningham. One day she showed up to visit the trailer park to buy some Ketamine from your boyfriend Eddie who you live with. What started as a rocky evening led to a night the 3 of you could ever forget.
Platonic Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley & fem!reader
The reader works with Steve and Robin in the Family Video and already has an established relationship with Steve. When Robin finds out she likes girls and that they have unrequited feelings for each other, they plan a date night at Steve and readers' condo.
Older rockstar Eddie Munson x younger fem!reader (series completed 21 chapters).
Series summary: Corroded Coffin have a reunion tour with none other than doom/gothic metal legends Type O' Negative. Reader recently finished college with a bachelor's degree in the music business. After being interviewed by none other than Eddie Munson himself, you get the job as their touring band manager. What starts as a business relationship grows into friendship and eventually an epic romance. Steve Harrington is CC's bodyguard. Eventual Steddie x fem! reader. Multi-series. Eventual smut.
Pics/selfies/Stranger things related:
Selfies 1
Eddie merch
More recent selfies
More me
More Eddie merch
My fruity four rp/ask blog @fruityfour-rp
My Steve twin/Steve lover and besties: @corneliuswatkins 😊 @keeryatmosphere
My fellow AHS & Michael Langdon lover Miss Dani: @americanhorrorstcry
The Steve to my Robin @koskeepsake😎
Chrissy/My Eddie twin and fellow Billy Lover: @chrissymjstan 😊
Some of my other lovely moots:
@headovaheelsinlove @eddiemunsonfuxks @aleisashortcake @brinasdead @edsbug @haceleyes @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @ofhawkinsandvecna​ @stevesxyellowxsweater @mrprettywhenhecries @bimbobaggins69 @unholy-church01 @rowanswriting @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @haceleyes @ali-r3n @jadeylovesmarvelxo @somethingvicked @tea-party-at-wonderland
An awesome Eddie fan blog @lovemesomeeddiemunson​
My Munson Twins @the-munson-twins
My sweet Eddie @hellfiremun​
53 notes · View notes
cozymaples · 5 months
Text
gator who fucks into you from behind, deep and slow with his arm wrapped around your waist. gator who insists that his shift that starts in an hour isn’t as important as hearing you cum for him. gator who’s fingers rub against your clit at a rapid pace, contrasting with his thrusts, just the way you like it. gator who’s getting a high off of you chasing your own, all caused by him.
“good girl,” he coos, pressing kisses against your neck as you twitch beneath him, gasping and panting as you come for him. “fuck-!” you whine, clutching desperately at his arm-the sheets-anything to ground you. he holds you steady, praising you through your orgasm. “uh-huh, there she is. so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.” you pant, exasperated, finally rolling on your back to look at him. lovestruck and fucked out, you can’t help the grin that spreads across your features. “sun hasn’t even risen yet, cowboy.” you tease. “surely you’re not complainin’,” he notes, raising his brows. you shake your head. “never.”
“good.” he says, knowingly. he grins, standing up to start getting ready for his day. “feel bad about wakin’ you all the time,” he says, “gotta fuck my girl back to sleep.”
475 notes · View notes
cozymaples · 5 months
Text
right place, right time. (gator tillman x reader)
warnings: afab!reader, oral!f receiving, public sex, brief mention of drunk driving, protective!gator
tags: @prettyboyeddiemunson
gator tillman who knows you're a handful, always getting yourself into trouble (or so he says). gator who knows that as your boyfriend, it's his duty, and god-given right to protect and serve. he's wary on the 'serve' part, unless, of course, it's for you. gator who's the first to show up at the scene of your little fender bender, some drunk asshole rear-ending you in his porsche at 3 in the morning. gator who spits on his shoes, after assuring him that 'daddy's money won't get him out of this one.' gator who scares him off so badly, the poor asshole is trembling as he raises his hands in defeat, driving himself off to god knows where.
"you can't just let him drive off-!" you protest, walking up to gator as you stressfully run your fingers through your hair, gesturing wildly. "hey," he scolds, "easy now, sweet thing. i can do as i please; you forget that?" he chews on a piece of gum, raising his eyebrows. you roll your eyes with defeat. "hey." he repeats, now stepping towards you. he closes any space that had been between the two of you, your back against his police truck, courtesy of minnesota p.d. you look up at him, silently thankful for the fact that he'd showed up. your car had really suffered little damage, luckily a few scratches and a crunched bumper. "thank you." you say, finally. he nods in silence for a moment, looking around to see if anyone's around.
they're not.
suddenly crashing his lips to yours, his palms find their way to your ass, kneading at the flesh as you moan into his mouth. "not gonna let some fuckin' prick hurt my girl. fuckin' asshole." he nearly snarls, his tongue licking into your mouth. the only source of light you have is a dim streetlight, causing you to begin protesting hurriedly. "gator, what if someone sees us?!" you sigh out a moan once more, feeling his knee knock between your thighs, granting you some friction against your clit. "they won't." he mumbles against your lips, large palms sliding to your hips, gently guiding you to ride his thigh. "and even if they do, who's gonna stop the law, sugar?"
his words always made your head dizzy with lust, forgetting any sanity you'd had before he showed up. you couldn't help that you'd fallen in love with such an asshole, but he was your asshole. and sure, you didn't want to be a damsel in distress all the time, but you've started to succumb to it; the idea of someone taking care of you-a knight in shining armor..with a lime green vape. the way he yelled at anyone who wronged you, scaring them with his authority made your clit throb. and, as if he knows, he's already on his knees between your legs. his hands rip your panties, and you gasp as you hear the fabric tear. "jesus, gator! would you fuckin'-"
"shhh." he soothes, sucking harsh hickies into your thighs under your skirt. "i'll buy you a new pair. always do." you know it's true, so you let him continue-(not like you wouldn't have anyway). your hands reach for his head, resting on the back of it as his mouth presses kisses to your pussy, raking his nails gently down the back of your thighs. the extra stimulation causes your knees to buckle, gasping out a moan as he steadies you. "there she is." he says, and you can hear the smug grin on his face. his mouth returns to your pussy, lapping at your clit mean and slow. you can hear his mouth, the sounds of his tongue working against your clit as he makes out with your pussy. he makes sure to work his tongue everywhere, between your folds, against your clit. he licks gentle stripes against your pussy every time he parts from your clit, and you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. "don't stop-" you beg, pleading as he chuckles into you. he doesn't stop, listening to you as your fists clench. you push his head further into your pussy, unraveling for him as his name spills from your mouth repeatedly. "that's it, honey. say my name." he coos, finally rising to his feet.
you're shaking as you come down from your orgasm, gazing up at him, lovestruck. "i don't think i can walk-" you confess, and he scoops you off your feet, into his arms. "c'mon, then we'll call a tow for your car. i know a guy." he says. "you're comin' home with me."
263 notes · View notes
wroteclassicaly · 3 months
Text
Sit Down
(Gator Tillman x Female Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: Maxed out on stress, Gator is tired of you. And of course, he thinks he’s developed the perfect suggestion.
Warnings: Language, NSFW, smut, rough sex, vaginal sex, some heavy petting, biting w/ a little blood, slight breeding kink towards the end, & some fluffy comfort. That’s about it!
Word count: 2,849
Pairings: Gator Tillman x Female Reader
A/N: I’ve been stressed out and everything, and I’ve been daydreaming all day of getting my brain shut off by Gator like this. It’s porn without plot, so I hope y’all enjoy? ❤️
Tumblr media
You didn’t smile at him, didn’t accept his fruitless jokes or quirky mannerisms. He tried to toss his half of the insults that you both usually hurl at one another, but nothing. It left a bitter bite on his tongue and a sucker punch to his guts. He’s embarrassed he even tried to converse with you. Balancing the local bank bordered pen between his thumb and pointer finger, Gator Tillman taps it against chipped desk wood, blowing a hot breath from between his winter chapped lips.
He can’t take it any longer, especially when you slam your purse down on the counter of your desk cubicle and insult the entirety of the precinct. His desk chair’s springs hinge underneath his weight, and he throws it forward to stride to you on faded snow covered combats. Elongating his leather clad arm, he watches his own thick fingers pinch your shoulder blade to get your attention and direct you towards him. He’s normally not this public with his reactions in regards to you, but you're under his skin, you’re inside of him more than he finds himself buried deep within you. It’s a given this was bound to break his reverie.
Your brows nearly meet in anger, creating a crease he fights to kiss off. He’s pissed, he has to let that lead right now. He can see your heavy breaths beneath the crinkle in your overcoat, your heaving breasts covered by a satin, blood red blouse that you’re wearing today. You don’t dare move, but wait. He likes this.
Your nostrils are brimmed with the hot cinnamon spice of the aftershave that’s wrapped around his neck, licking his jawline. You follow those freckles that wind around his jugular, single out those moles, all the way to his pretty pink mouth as it separates and begins to command you in a voice so deep it rattles your ribcage from a startled heartbeat. Pulsing, thumping, pounding, leaving muscles sore and aching.
“Get your ass out to my squad car! I need to have a talk with you.”
“No.” You spit, looking up at him, watching his adam’s apple bob from a jagged swallow. Did he expect that? He knows your mouth has a doctorate in back talking.
Your energy, your stress, it all piles into combat mode and it pushes against you, leaving you whimpering to its orders. You let it guide you, piss you off.
“You like havin’ a job to pay your rent?” It’s condescending, knowing what it can do, his tone is ever so present. Abusing his power just the way that you fuckin’ like it.
Here we go, the give and take that’s finally broken all boundaries, publicized whatever your relationship with Roy Tillman’s son is.
Your jaw clicks and you lick the roof of your mouth. “M’ pretty sure I can find another place to lay down my head at night, Sheriff.”
He can barely stand how the anger burns from his toes and electrifies his neck’s nape. He can’t see through its aftershocks, rolling forward and landing back on heavily booted heels. He fully clasps your shoulder now, leaving no room for another choice. You’re out the door first, the faux fur on your snowshoes dusted in the white powder, sludge scrambled beneath your heavy footfalls, Gator’s right behind yours. The cruiser is off to the side of the building today, shimmering beneath the wintery condensation, scoped out by the buttery glow of a Midwestern, countryside sun.
You hear the automatic lock release, and resist the urge to call him a good little boy. You’d chastised him for leaving a police vehicle, something that a Tillman drives — unlocked. He listened. You peel open the passenger door, a bit tough due to freezing conditions. Ice chips shred themselves and shake loose of the door, melting as they pelt your boots. Gator has a white knuckled grip on the driver’s door, standing opposite, a cold smoke cloud trickling off his mouth, his mossy eyes having evaporated into a midnight black.
You climb into the cold expanse of the car and slam your door with purpose, sealing your paced fate. You don’t turn as he leans down to look into the car, or even as he joins you and cranks the engine for some heat. His benefit beyond your own. There’s a few wrappers, however, that you do notice when you glance across the dashboard.
This is the thoughtful pause where your tongue feels heavy, legs a deadweight, yet lighter than a feather. Your body reacting to Gator while your mind becomes caged to his capture, and he’s the only one with the key. He’s the first one to react today, again. The sound is one you’ll never tire of hearing, saliva pooling on your tongue as he peels back the leather from his belt buckle and it clatters apart, giving him room to undo his jeans entirely. He gives halt to his actions and snaps his fingers in your direction.
“Look at me.”
Your knees knock together and it causes a smirk to tug on the corner of his beautiful mouth. He’s got one hand, a watch wrapped wrist - deep into his underwear, sliding his hand back and forth, squeezing, preparing, and levels you to the seat with that gaze that reaches, that cradles beneath his eyebrows, bringing them into focus. When he’s got you tangled into his trap, he grits his teeth as he struggles to free himself, his fingertips only grazing around the beautiful girth you’re once again gifted privy to personal indulgence with.
Cocky. He’s fed and greedy. “Oh yeah, you want this, huh? You can be the biggest bitch in Stark County and I’ve still got somethin’ you want, that no one else can ever give you. Ain’t that right, baby?”
You don’t verbalize, it’s pointless. Tears blurring your vision, burning into the ducts. You need him, you always do. He fixes you, even when he breaks you, puts you back together when he’s the one who's pulling everything apart.
“Get over here, quick, pretty baby.” A compliment and it has you crawling across the console and right into his lap, his cock jumping, smacking against that plain black t-shirt he’s wearing beneath his jacket, when your warmth is above him.
He doesn’t touch you yet, his spare hand tight on his holster and the other on his cock. You can feel its thickness scraping against you, and he grins, tapping the weapon. “Not like you’ve cared before when I wear this when I’m inside. Think that you like wonderin’ if I was smart enough to remember the safety, don’t ya?”
You start to say something, and he removes the gun and places it where you were sitting moments ago. No more crackling plays. He’s ready. That massive palm drifts in between your legs and wiggles around to find the hem of your work skirt, bringing it up and ordering you to hold onto it. The moment that you do, it’s an audible growl that festers from his throat, birthed in his diaphragm. He’s seen your situation through the sheer tights that you’re wearing, in addition to the massive wet patch that’s stained the seam.
“Where’s your fuckin’ panties?”
“Forgot to do the laundry. Sue me.” And he would on the spot, give you a sentence, a ticket, something. The way he’s looking at you when you permit your eyes to meet. That amber ring is completely engulfed in the vast expanse of his orbs.
“You’ve just been walkin’ around like this?”
“Looks like.” You sass, hands trembling to hold up your skirt, especially when he lets go of his cock and uses both hands to demolish the crotch of your stockings, fabric ripping down to your inner thighs, leaving you swollen and bare for him.
Vulnerable. Ready to have your worries shut off and be put aside. He leans up and you meet, his nose mashing into yours, lips shaping over your own, caressing, yet not meeting.
“Sit down.” He commands, and spits a clean line of saliva into his own palm, tucking it between your legs and rubbing.
You disobey instruction and sway forward, knuckle bones cracking as you fist your grip into the shoulders of his leather jacket, its echoing crinkle roaring in your ears with the static blood rush. Your lips part and it’s a trembling whine that escapes. Gator is elated, using his calloused digits to separate you messily, slapping once, twice. You jump, back smashing into his steering wheel and laying on the horn. He chuckles, uncaring now. It’s feeding season and he’s here to claim.
“Goddamned pathetic mess, aren’t you? Like a lost doe waiting on her buck to take the lead. You just needed me to fix everything you’ve been goin’ through, right?”
He craves to be your antidote, the only prayer you pray, even when you’re not on your knees for him, but at your bedside, and your sole place of worship. He knows that his home lies inside of you — warm and safe, all abandoned and found. He’s gripping his cock to hold for you, waiting, letting his sopping wet fingers leave a webbed string from your cunt to the digits, to which he takes greedily into his mouth and sucks. You’re on him completely within a flash, that fat head putting a welcomed pressure on the damp ring of muscle that beckons him a little deeper, gets off on the pain his size is about to bring. You tighten your grip on his jacket, rolling it back off his shoulders to slide your hands beneath and grip the fabric of his t-shirt.
His toes curl in his boots and he shifts, letting his heels roll back to assist him in a raise of his muscular legs as he pushes hard and fast, his wrapped hand meeting your folds in a sticky press. He lets go to grasp at your waist, keeping you steady and still. You fall into his neck, thighs shaking so hard that it causes him to practically vibrate, choking on the quaking. It’s a few moments that he gives you before he’s fetching you by the back of the neck and dragging you from the dotted crevice where you’d begun your quest to kiss those freckles and moles painted into his skin. This is how he holds you, irises matching to meet, your hips rolling to a rhythm that this amount of limited space can barely accommodate, with his fingers squeezing your neck, keeping it propped, adjusting your head when it lolls back.
He grows impatient within the next few movements, gritting his milky whites, pawing at your heavy coat, moving it to get to your clothing beneath to rip your blouse, buttons pinging all over, bouncing from the crystal windshield and onto the dash. Hell, you were sure one made it past the cage divider and into the backseat. Your bra cups are pushed beneath your tits and exposing your nipples to the change in temperature, which Gator immediately takes advantage of. Slapping each swell before taking a nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue to overstimulate you, getting you to move yourself a little faster over him, drawing his heavy balls just a little tighter. And then he’s letting himself steer it in reverse to watch you take what he’s giving.
He knows it hurts, a boastful pride that’s also made him bashful at times, surprisingly. But you’re taking him, riding him, holding onto his shoulders as your perfect tits bounce with every movement. There’s not enough room in here, it’s cramped, smelling of sex and faded fast food wrappers, but Gator doesn’t give two flying fucks. Your clit drags across that patch of hair at his base, smearing your thick cream down his shaft when he pulls out to push back in, and it has you begging him to hurt you some more.
His spare hand goes for the plush of your waist, and he gives a vice pressure, his boots leaving the floor as he gives you all he’s got, his cock colliding with that diabolically delicious spot inside. “How about that?” He’s panting.
You tighten around him, flooding him, jaw becoming unhinged to let your tongue roll out, licking your lips, your eyes glazed over. You reach for his hold on your neck, holding onto his wrist. And your other hand ventures into purchase, your body pressing forward, flipping his shirt up enough to press your breasts into those tufts of chest hair, your mouth finding his neck and you lick away that aftershave soaked perspiration, all the way from his gulping jugular, tasting his overworked breaths, to going across his jawline, and you nose your way into the overpowering smell of his hair product, your hand bypassing his chest and sliding between his slicked back locks, shaking them into a disarray, yanking so hard that he hisses, “You fuckin’ bitch. You know how much I hate that.”
But he doesn’t. He can fix his hair. And his pathetic cock pulses inside of you, letting you know that he’s close, so fucking close that his goddamned throat is on fire with it. You’re too brainless to make a sassing remark, that tightening in your belly beginning to take hold. Gator steps in to save, witty on encouragement.
“Soaking my fuckin’ dick. Think you’re about to cum for me, baby. Should I let you ride it out? You gonna talk back to me when we’re out of this car in a few minutes?” He cuts himself off, gasping into the kiss you steal.
You’re nodding, unsure of what you’re answering. You just know that if you don’t have your release that you’re going to tip off the precipice and shatter. Gator takes your warning, closes his palm over the back of your neck, and begins to piston his hips until the car starts to rock and you’re both unsure who’s making what noise. Your eyes roll back and he jerks you forward, keeping your beautiful chest-full against him, high on the stimulation. His nose is shoved in your cheekbone and he’s kissing you messily, your slick noisy and loud, embarrassing and overwhelming.
Gator bites down so hard on your bottom lip that you taste copper. He automatically licks it up. He fuckin’ loves it when he can make you bleed and tend to it. You’re crying, holding onto his hand around your neck, hand falling from his hair and onto his naked waist. All you get out is one word. “Please.”
“Fuck yeah, baby. You wanna cum all over my cock? Gonna let me fill up your worthless little cunt?”
That dam breaks and cracks at your foundation, flood gates exploding, Gator’s thrusts sounding wetter and messier. You know it’s happening before he does, uncaring how messy it is when it spurts from where you’re joined, drenching that connected trail of hair around his navel, matting back his bush with a translucent shine. His head thumps back against the seat and he swallows, crying out, “Oh, fuck. Good girl, fuckin’ mess me up.” He’s stroking, fondling your neck.
And then you’re taking the finality of his uncoordinated movements, his eyes connecting with yours once more, grip tighter on your neck, fingers laced with yours, other hand reaching for a breast, letting his fingertips tap down your sternum and press you apart to see himself engulfed in your cunt. He’s lifting his calloused thumb against your clit, blood smeared mouth kissing around the corners of your own. “Want you to do it again. Spill all over my lap and I’ll fill you so full that this town won’t have to wonder who put a baby in your belly. They’ll fuckin’ know.”
He’s got you so full on the next push that you lose your breath and give him what he wanted faster than you could’ve anticipated, the surprise of his words coursing through your every connected vein. Your body belongs to him, obeys, another layer dousing him. And he makes good on his promise, seconds later, whimpering, all the tendons in his throat tightening, his pupils expanding, and he’s brimming your insides with warmth, hips stuttering, movement fizzling out, holding against you as his orgasm completely drains him. You encourage him, you thank him, words jumbled. He’s seeking you out, forever needing solace and approval after it’s this intense (and it usually is).
He kisses your mouth, wettened, flat presses, his tongue licking inside as his hands move to hold onto the fat of your breasts. On the break away, he’s nosing you, an act of reserved affection. It’s all better now.
Tumblr media
After you’d ran some gas out and redressed in a comfortable silence, wiping yourselves down with the console napkins Gator keeps — he’d voiced his opinions from earlier, trying to mask the concern but failing miserably.
“Everything is okay though, right? Nothin’ we can’t handle?”
We.
You smile at him, adjusting your skirt over the ruins of your tights, both of you aware that you’ll be completely bare for the rest of your shift.
“Turns out that all I needed to do to feel a little better, was to ‘sit down’.”
// Eat me paragraph //
273 notes · View notes