Short n’ Sweet
Gator Tillman x fem!reader - Masterlist
Summary: One of your’s and Gator’s favourite times of day is when he calls home on his lunch break. Second only to when he actually gets home. Today is no different. Nothing, not even workplace behavioural regulations will keep him from hearing your voice.
Warning: FLUFFFFFF, some insinuations to sex so MDNI, Gator is down BAD, reader knows and loves it, no physical descriptors of reader, only that they’re in a sun dress (or could be I guess) (if I’ve missed anything lmk!)
w/c: ~900
a/n: Shit summary but this little blurb has kept me happy on long drives 😝. Basically an entire ~900 words based on Ethel Cain’s unreleased demo of Louisiana. Not really in line with the show but it’s vague enough that it can work.
He’s having a conversation.
Or at the very least he’s meant to be. Not even sparing a glance to the beat cop in front of him who was vehemently expressing how handing out parking tickets is the true first line of defence in ‘the war on drugs’. Not a single moments hesitation before he turned his whole body away from him and headed toward the alcove near the front of the station holding one of the last pay phones in America.
You thought it was more romantic he thought.
Throwing his hands up in a combination of embarrassment, defeat and just a little bit of offense, the cop expressed his upset.
“What the hell man?!”
Another man stationed at the desk behind didn’t even look up from his laptop to deliver his response.
“He’s calling home.”
Even without an explanation, the cop’s smirk could have told the story just as well.
Quickly another man chimed in, having had to move out of Gator’s line of fire as he charged off toward the phone.
“Don’t even try man, 12:00 o’clock on the dot, everyday, he’s on that fucking phone.”
Gator didn’t even blink. Only running a hand over his already cemented, slicked-back hair as if he was actually about to be face to face with you once he dialled your number. His number too. The one listed under ‘home’ in his personnel file. The thought had him lowering his chin toward his chest in attempts to conceal the blush beginning to creep up on his cheeks.
It didn’t even take two rings.
He could practically see you.
Curled up on the love seat in one of the sundresses he adored to see you in.
He could hear the kitchen fan whirring in the background and your smile through the phone the second you picked up.
Gator spoke first after a subtle, but there, sigh of relief.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hi, honey.”
He knew he didn’t have long, but as always he wanted to leave an impression. Something for you to smile to yourself about ‘till he came home.
“How’s the weather down there huh? Warm? Ya sittin’ pretty while I’m out ‘ere workin’ away aren’t ya?”
“…Maybe. It’s somehow colder here without you though… If you want I’ll go with you.”
“And where’s that baby?”
“Wherever you go…
You could take me for a ride along or somethin’.”
Gator was sure you could hear his shit eating grin through the receiver. Biting his tongue before he made a joke about ridin’ somethin’ else so early into the call, while he knew he was catching stray glances from the guys behind him.
“You that much of a mess without me?”
He knew it. And he fucking loved it. What he loved more though was you. And how you proudly declared your independence but still ultimately desired to have him take care of you.
“Baby, it’s July. May as well be in Louisiana.
I’ll be sweating through this dress till you get home.”
“Well honey, I’ll be home soon enough to get that dress off ya, don’t worry. Be good for me, I’ll see you when I get home.”
“Always.”
The simpleness of your sincerity warmed something deep in his chest and turned something over softly in the pit of his stomach.
Working to move past the emotion clawing its way up his throat while standing in the middle of a police station, Gator cleared his throat as a signal that the topic was to change.
“…So uh, what’s for dinner?”
“Hmmm. Not sure about dinner but I have a pretty good idea for dessert.”
Your insinuation was not lost on him.
God he loved you.
“Do you now?”
“Mmhhmmm. I was thinking something short n’ sweet.”
Most likely referring to the dress that you were currently sprawled out in, Gator couldn’t fathom the idea of anything else about your reunion being ‘short’.
“Well I don’t know about short honey, but i’m definitely fiendin’ for something sweet.”
“Is that right?”
His turn.
“Always.”
“Well then I’ll have it wrapped and ready to go by the time you get home.”
Exhaling through his nose and leaning his head back, Gator’s restraint was evident in the pronounced tendons straining in his neck.
“Ugh, Baby, you’re killing me.”
Your soft laugh could be heard perfectly through the static. Clearly you had the desired effect in him.
“The sooner you clean the streets the sooner we can get dirty. How ‘bout that?
“Funny. You’re a minx, y’know that?.
I’ll be back home before it gets dark.”
The lack of words cutting through the static in that moment said more than anything else did.
Looking up and over his shoulder, Gator made sure the rest of the guys had lost interest in his conversation before he spoke his next words.
“I love you, you know that right?”
“I know. I love you too, Gates.”
He had no right to revel in the nick name he thought.
But he did.
God he couldn’t wait to get home and hear you say those very words again, this time directly into his ear.
He felt like the luckiest man alive.
Which honestly? To have gotten a woman like you, he was.
