Tumgik
#joe keery put fear into my gut
luciferssworld · 2 years
Text
When he canonically murders people for views doesn’t wash his hair kidnapped a person and stole a car but he’s also a feminist 😍
31 notes · View notes
youthereader · 4 months
Text
Gator blackmails you.
Tumblr media
pairing: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader
summary: 1.9k. to avoid arrest, you do something for gator.
rating: e; dubcon, mentions of underage drinking, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, blowjob (m recieving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, toxic dynamics
a/n: there's just something about this guy! I hate him but I want him! this is my first ever joe keery character fic, so please be gentle.
Tumblr media
“Go fuck yourself!”
“I wouldn’t be talkin’ to me like that if I were ya.”
This town makes it easy to hate cops, especially because of Sheriff Tillman and his son. Luckily for you, or not so luckily, depending on how you look at it, you’re dealing with Gator tonight.
He has you backed into the side of his car, all alone, and it’s freezing cold. You can see your breaths in front of your faces, your body occasionally shivering. Your cute outfit just feels idiotic now, along with many other decisions that led you up to this point.
Gator’s eyes shift to the end of the street, which is completely deserted. You and your friends were there together up until a few minutes ago, when his cop car turned the corner and spotted you.
“Your friends ain’t gonna help ya,” he says. “They’re long gone.”
“And I meant it when I said it the first time – go fuck yourself!”
He smirks, lifting his vape to his lips and inhales. He exhales away from you, but you can still smell the mango scent as it drifts into the night. He smells like whatever body spray he showered himself in earlier, too. It’s not bad, exactly. Just invasive, lingering. Kind of like Gator himself.
You’ve known each other for years. He was in your older brother’s class in high school, in and out of your life forever, and this is the closest you’ve been to him in a long time. He always sort of scared you as a kid, but now it’s a different kind of fear. Less boogeyman, more realistic and sadistic.
Especially after he told you to suck his cock so he doesn’t arrest you for drinking underage.
“Somethin’ like this on your record when you’re applyin’ for college…”
He trails off, shaking his head. Your face warms and your guts twist. He can’t be serious, and yet you find it entirely possible he means it. His eyes dip to your lower half, your stupid short skirt and tights. You’re not even wearing snow boots, what the fuck were you thinking? You’re not even tipsy anymore by how sobering this is.
“Your brother would be shattered, too.”
“Don’t talk about my brother,” you snarl.
You take a step forward and he doesn’t flinch, eyes dipping to your lips. Your stomach flips at the sight of him taking you in like that.
“You a virgin?” he whispers.
You step back, face on fire, ignoring him. He makes a show of sighing, putting his vape away to take out his handcuffs.
“Okay, turn around.”
“Wait-”
“You can explain you and your delinquent buddies down at the station-”
You do think of college now. You care about getting out of this town, away from shitbirds like Gator Tillman. Without college, it’s that much harder to succeed. You think of the shame and humiliation your family would feel, because it would get around so fast, your drinking.
“Okay, okay! Okay!” you yelp, as he spins you around.
He presses up against you, hips to your ass and you gasp at the force of him.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” you whisper. Your eyes shut and you gulp. “I’ll blow you.”
“Nope, changed my mind-”
You start to beg, but he still cuffs you, takes hold of your wrists to open the backseat and pushes you inside with ease. He’s deceptively strong. You land sidewards, and he slams the door shut as you struggle to sit up, slipping into the front seat.
“Asshole,” you hiss, hating him.
You start to wish your arrest would be for more, like assaulting an officer. He probably tried to blackmail you just to see if you’d say yes.
He takes off and you manage to sit up, huffing as you glare at the back of his head through the divider. You realize then that he’s not headed towards the station, but further out, further away from the center of town. You feel panic start to set in, your eyes meeting his in the rear-view mirror.
“Hey, what the fuck?”
“Y’know, I was on my way home when I picked ya up,” he calls over the engine.
He’s speeding and you feel each lurch of the car, every swerve.
“I wasn’t even lookin’ for some action tonight. But you always are. Fuckin’ whores.”
He can’t be talking to you. He must mean the collective ‘you’, of all the girls in town he sees. Has he done this before?
“You’re all whores.”
He seems on a roll, so you stay silent. He drives to the high school, to the football field at the back, the turf iced over and crunching underfoot. You know this because you walk across it most days, dreaming of somewhere far warmer. College was meant to take you away from the cold.
He parks the car. As it idles, he turns around in his seat.
“So have we got a deal?” he says, and you blink at him.
“Uh, yeah.”
He seems to have changed, he seems younger. You stare back at him and he frowns. It’s almost comical.
“What did ya think I was goin’ to do?”
“What kind of question is that -?”
He jumps out of the front and opens the back, crowding you, and he shuts it behind him, settling beside you. You glance down at your own arm pointedly, and he moves forward to uncuff you.
“I wasn’t gonna rape you or somethin’… your brother’s my buddy.”
“I hope he’s not,” you snap.
“Hey,” he says, and he tugs you toward him. “I still could arrest ya. Public intoxication? Underage drinkin’? Intent to sell?”
“Intent to sell what?” you retort. “I have nothing on me-”
“For now.”
You glare at him, rubbing your sore wrists, and he smirks again. His gaze dips again to your mouth.
“You’re kinda cute when you’re pissed off, did ya know that? You’re eighteen, right?”
“You are fucked up,” you say.
The silence between you is heavy, and he pulls in a breath, not disagreeing with you. You close your eyes for courage, breathing in his scent. Annoyingly, he smells really good, and the heat of his body makes it weirdly intimate.
“If I do this, then you’ll let me off the hook?”
Your eyes meet and he nods. “Sure, baby.”
You sigh, moving to unzip his fly and put a hand in his underwear. He’s hard already, and huge. Holy shit, you were not expecting that – and neither did you consider physically reacting to him like you do. Your stomach flips as your face burns with want. You want this.
“C’mon.”
You obey, ducking down to swallow him, trying not to cough, and Gator sucks in a breath on impact. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, your thighs pressing together. His direction helps you with your initial nerves. Giving bad head would surely mean arrest.
You find yourself trying to not show too much enthusiasm, either. This tightrope means sucking his cock but suppressing your moans, because you’re not a virgin. You’ve done this many times before, but it hasn’t been like this. It hasn’t been risky, or so matter of fact.
He holds you like someone with experience does, and you like it a lot. You shift your hips a little, heat below your navel. He yanks you off him, drool on your mouth and chin, and kisses you.
His hot tongue pushes into your mouth and you grunt in surprise, not disgust, and he’s good. He’s really good at making you go in for more when he moves his lips away from you, staring at you with a glazed expression on his face.
“I knew it,” he whispers. “I knew you’d enjoy this.”
“Shut up,” you mumble.
“Hmm, I like it…”
His hand trails down your side, then under your skirt. You turn your head away from him, whimpering when his fingers curl into the waistband of your tights, pulling them down. You take his cock into your mouth again, re-doubling your efforts, and Gator groans for the first time, his hand more determined.
His fingers meet your underwear, rubbing over the clothed cut of you. You know you must be wet by now, and he doesn’t humiliate you for that. Instead, he pushes aside the material to reach your cunt, tucking two fingers inside with ease.
“Fuck,” you moan, because he’s not gentle.
You bob your head, tasting his pre-cum, sacrificing air to get him off. You’re fighting the building pleasure inside you, until he pinches your clit and you cry out, starting to tremble.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he whispers, and you cough, taking him as far as you can out of sheer desperation. “Good girl…”
You come, your orgasm ripped from you, and you can’t hide it by how you clench around him and shudder. You ride his hand to the very end, and his fingers stay inside you, that possessive edge to him still as he grips your neck a little tighter.
“C’mon…”
He starts to pant, your eyes streaming now as you commit to his end, and within a minute he follows you over the edge. His come hits the back of your throat and you go still, unsure of whether you’ll swallow. He doesn’t let go, and you decide then that you’ve gone this far already, you may as well…
“Good girl,” he gasps, and that does it.
You swallow, panting. Your ears are ringing and you feel dazed. At some point, the events of tonight will feel real. For now, you have to feel outside of yourself, watching Gator’s fingers move from under your skirt up to his mouth. He licks them clean and then tucks himself away, zipping his fly.
It is utterly bizarre, especially when he glances your way, searching you.
“I’ll drive ya home.”
“Yeah,” you murmur.
“Your friends are shitty, for runnin’ away like that,” he adds.
You nod. You wonder what you look like, sweaty and wrecked.
He moves back to the front seat, and you stare at him through the divider. When he finally looks at you again, you realise he must remember the way to your house from years ago. Something about that makes your chest ache. It’s been a weird night.
“Don’t do shit like that again, alright?” he says, and you nod again.
You don’t know if you’ll do as he says. He is right about your friends, though. Whatever apology they offer you when they see you on Monday will be bullshit and you know it. At least Gator isn’t bullshit.
He stops the car outside your house, and the lights are off. You snuck out hours ago, and your parents won’t know you ever left. But Gator will.
You think about seeing him again in town but don’t feel as miserable as you expect.
“I still think you should go fuck yourself,” you say, ducking under his arm when he lets you out of the car. You feel a little better already.
You glance back at him, and his eyebrows lift. He smirks.
“Okay, baby.”
His vape is back and he watches you walk to your front door. You smell his body spray still, you can taste his come. You’re still a little congested with it, your lips rubbed raw.
“Good girl,” he calls, as you unlock your front door, your back to him.
Your head whips toward him and he disappears into his car, the engine coming to life as you slip inside, heart pounding, the image of his glistening fingers still fresh in your mind.
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading! If you liked it, consider throwing me a like or reblog it. 🖤
309 notes · View notes
luciferssworld · 2 years
Text
I think we all know Spree has been called “American Psycho for the digital age” and stuff but if Spree was filmed anything like that movie I’d probably spontaneously combust
11 notes · View notes
luciferssworld · 2 years
Text
Why aren’t there more photos of busted eye Kurt Kunkle tho
6 notes · View notes