#gus gilbert

you stand up from your seat, slowly walking towards him, your hips swaying. looking up at him through your lashes as you stand before him. you smirk, a well manicured hand coming up to trail up his chest, "you're looking good,"

Gus grins, his broad chest rising and falling with each steady breath under the warmth of your hand. "you pocket my key last time, or d'you just pick my lock again?" he asks with a small quirk of his lips.

you grin up at him, looking through those damn pretty eyes of yours. "you never leave your keys around me, you know that." you raise your hand to hold his face. "missed you, Gus.."

he grins, large hand slipping around your waist. you grin, tilting your head to the side. you quickly lean in, your chest pressed against his as you reach for the cuffs, kicking his left foot from under him. he lets out a grunt, slipping to the floor-- not without pulling you down with him.

you grunt as you land in his lap, your hand firmly holding the cuffs. "you do always look so hot beneath me.." you trail, eyes dragging across his broad figure beneath you.

he pants a little, chest rising and falling beneath your palm. "can't complain about the view either," his dark eyes trailing down your chest.

you sigh, dragging your nail up and down his stubbled jaw. you know Gus is watching you, looking for an opening. hell, he probably knows that you know that he's looking.

so you put up much less of a fight when he pushes up and flips you around so his sturdy frame is pressing you into the floor. the cuffs being clenched between both yours and his hands.

you grin up at him, wetting your lips with your tongue, watching Gus' eyes follow the movement. "you haven't called," you drag a hand up his chest, hooking one of your legs over his hip.

"you still haven't given me your number," he returns, exhaling as his hips are pressed into yours by the hook of your leg.

you grin, feeling him harden against your core. "now where would be the fun in that?" your tip-toeing up his shoulder before pulling at his collar, Gus' face inching closer at the motion.

he huffs, eyes squinting a little as he breathes against you, his hot breath fanning across your lips. you watch him for a second longer before smashing your lips up against his, with both your hands and the surprise you manage to get the cuffs from his hands, sliding them across the floor.

Gus groans into the kiss, before pulling away and pinning your hands above you. "you want me to dig and find it, don't you?" he pants against your lips, his hips pressed firmly into yours, letting you feel just how much he's enjoying this. "want me to put in all the work, huh?" he nudges your nose with his.

he tsk's, that dark look in his eyes. oh boy, does that get you going.

you grin, wiggling in his hold as you throw your other leg around his waist. "come on, doesn't the reward taste better after some effort?" you pout up at him.

he knocks his nose against yours, lips brushing against yours as he speaks, "suppose it does," he breathes.

you grin against his lips. "so why haven't you yet?" you ask, you kick one shoe off, it clatters somewhere in the room. "you got that fancy database," you kick the other shoe off. "you could look me up," you nudge your nose against him. "and see if you can find it." your tongue comes out to lick a teasing strip across his bottom lip.

his hips buck against yours, his delicious hard on pressed flat against your aching core. "nah, where's the fun in that?" he mutters against your lips, pressing half of a kiss to the corner.

you run your tongue across his upper lip, which Gus catches between his teeth. you merely smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. Gus grunts, indulging you for a second as his tongue sneaks out to swirl around yours, deepening the kiss. you moan against his lips, your hips rolling up against his.

you pull away, leaving Gus' lips chasing yours. his lips land on your jaw, trailing down to your throat in a feverish way. "you like me showin' up like this," you tilt your head to press your lips against his ear, "don't you?" you pant.

Gus lets go of your wrists and they shoot up immediately around his neck to pull him down against your lips. he groans into the kiss. "maybe."

your fingers fumble with the buttons of his uniform shirt, pushing it off his shoulders once you've reached the last button and dragging your hands across his hairy chest. uhg, you've missed him.

his thick fingers make quick work of pushing up your sheer nightgown, only breaking the heated kiss to pull it over your head and throw it across the floor. his large hand immediately travelling the bare skin of your waist and stomach.

your hands shaking with adrenaline and anticipation, desperately unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his slacks. "mm, you always looked so good in uniform," you moan against his lips, stabilising yourself beneath him before flipping the two of you, landing you back in his lap.

Gus groans as you grind down against him, his huge hands gripping your hips. god you've missed his big hands so much.

you pull his belt out, throwing it in the direction of your gown, before getting up with that horrible grin. "as much as i'd love you to fuck me here, i'm getting kind of thirsty.." you trail with heavy sways of your hips as you make your way to his kitchen.

Gus grunts, hurriedly getting up and following close behind you. you bend over, pulling open his liquor cabinet. "mm, what do we have here?" you hum. Gus yanks you back a little by the fat of your hips, his broad hips pressing flush against yours. picking up an expensive looking bottle of scotch, you turn around with a mischievous look in your eyes.

Gus crowds you against the counter as you move up, his strong arms caging you in against it. he watches you as you pull the cork from the bottle, lifting it to your lips and tipping it ever so slightly for a few drops to run onto your tongue, you lean back as you savour the liquor, moaning. "you've got such good taste Gus, truly,"

he grins as he watches you. you tilt the bottle to take another sip, most of the liquor rolling onto your tongue, though a few drops slip past your lips and dribble down your chest. Gus groans at the sight, "whoops," you grin up at him.

it's your turn to moan as Gus' lips attach to your skin, licking and sucking up the liquor from your skin, his hips grinding against your lower stomach as your hand comes up to hold the back of his neck. his lips trail down more, think fingers pulling down your thin lacy bra to capture one of your nipples with his lips.

a low moan leaves you as he suckles on it, his tongue rolling around to sweeten the pleasure. "oh god, yes," you breathe, dropping the hand holding the bottle.

Gus is quick, catching the bottle before releasing your nipple and kissing his way up your chest. "tsk tsk, can't have you wasting good scotch, can we?" he sets the bottle on the counter, roughly pressing his lips against yours again.

you whine into the kiss, your hands running all over his body before settling on his slacks. you unzip them, slipping your hand into his boxers before cupping his hard length. it's Gus' turn to moan into the kiss now, hips bucking against your hand as you stroke him. his large hands yank your underwear down your hips, dropping them to the floor and you step out of them.

Gus grabs your hips, his strong arms lifting you up onto the counter, his big hands pulling your core flat against your hand as you palm him. you breathe shakily into the kiss, one of his big hands suddenly pulling your hand from his underwear.

in the blink of an eye both your wrists are caught between one of hands, and the telltale 'clink!' of handcuffs can be heard. you whine against his lips, feeling him cuff you to the handle of the cabinets behind you.

he shoves his slacks down his thighs, pulling you closer by your plush thigh. you let out a lewd moan as he rubs his weeping tip through your soaked folds, an equally pleasured moan leaving him. "shit baby, you're so wet for me," he pants, his fingers digging into your hips as his other hand keeps himself sliding through your folds.

he groans loudly as he guides his fat head in, before pulling back a little, lips parting. "god, i'm gonna explode if you don't fuck me now, Gilbert." you plea with a whine, pulling his hips back into yours with your legs, his tip pushing into you again.

he presses his forehead against yours. he sinks in, moans and groans spilling from the both if you as lewd squelching accompanies the sounds. you drop your head back against the cabinets as thrusts in fully, his head following to press into your shoulder as you pulse around him.

he drags his lips across your throat, teeth nipping at the skin as he slowly starts moving, pulling out before pushing again. "oh fuck," you moan, wrists tugging at the cuffs. his hips buck against yours, your eyes rolling back, "god, why didn't i come find you sooner," you pant.

he grunts as you clench around him, "i don't know dollface, i don't know," he suckles on your collarbone, slowly building up his pace.

it doesn't take more than a minute before he's slamming into you, one large hand gripping your hip as the other is planted behind your head on the cabinet to prevent you from knocking your head against it and hurting yourself. always so thoughtful..

his thick and rough thumb slipping down to rub gentle circles into your clit, the feeling sending you jolting forward into his hold. "just like that-! shiit, just like that," you plea, tears of pleasure prickling at your eyes.

sex with him is always so damn good. and he fucking knows it too-- always that smug look on his face.

your head swirls with pleasure as he slams into you, his thumb working your clit and his lips on your shoulder-- it would never take long for you to cum all over him, teary eyes and sore wrists.

"oh fuck- i'm close Gus, god i'm so close-!" you cry out, digging your forehead into his hand behind you as he drags in and out of you so damn pleasurably. you hate him for feeling so good.

his hips stutter, teeth grazing your shoulder, "c'mon baby, c'mon let go for me," he encourages, his hand moving from the cabinet to run the rough pad his thumb over on of your nipples. you cry out, the feeling throwing you over the edge as you cum around him, Gus' hips stuttering as your walls erratically clench around him. "that's it, that's it sweetheart," he groans, feeling his own climax approaching.

he ruts up into you, your moans and pleas making his eyes roll back. "please baby, please- cum for me," you voice cracking with each stroke. he shutters against you, hands gripping your hips.

he pants, "where do you want it?"

you clench around him at the question, eyes rolling back. "inside, please, please, please,-"

Gus lets out a broken groan, his pace faltering before he picks it back up, slamming into you with a mission. your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into his fat ass as you desperately tug at those damn cuffs, with a few tears slipping down your face.

his teeth find purchase on your shoulder, gently biting into the supple skin as his climax comes crashing closer. "oh shit-" he moans into your shoulder, and you can feel him twitching against your walls.

"please baby- oh fuck, please cum for me-!" you beg. Gus grunts at your voice.

his pace quickens, and with the echoing sound of your pleas and your aching cunt clenching around him, he cums. his hips stuttering violently as he spills into you, painting your spasming walls with his spend. his teeth still buried in your shoulder.

his stuttering comes to a slow halt, slowly thrusting in and out as he gently fucks his cum up into you before stilling completely. he drops his head into the crook of your neck, resting one of his palms against the counter as the other holds you close to him.

he pants against your throat, large hand stroking up and down your back in a loving way. he tiredly chuckles against you, pressing a kiss to your skin. "damn, doll.." he mumbles against you.

you lean your head against the cabinet, eyes closed and with a tired grin on your lips. "yeah," you mutter.

he hisses as you adjust your hips a little, his hips jolting against yours. he leans back a little, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "still not gonna give me that number?" he mumbles against your lips as he uncuffs you. his large, strong hands picking you up from the counter as he carries you up the stairs and into the bathroom.

you rest your head against his shoulder, playfully clenching around him. "gotta work for it, mister."

he shutters at the feeling, setting you down on the cold marble of the bathroom sink, shaking his head with a tired smile.

「 ✟ authors note,, realised wayyyyy too late that i should give Gus some love too, so here's some saucy Gus smut for the fellow lovers 🙂‍↕️💕.

✟ taglist,, @plvtozz @bluephoenix0702 @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @blackbeautyiloveyouso @yallgotkik @womb-complex @corviluna @bichvanderlinde @geffjoldblums @owlgirl34 @suspiciouslysexy . 」

There was a certain allure to wandering, packing up and leaving everything you’d known behind. Maybe it was the nagging reminders of previous wounds around every corner, like a knife twisting between your ribs. Maybe it was the boredom. Or maybe, you surmise, the universe had finally decided to cut you a break.

It isn’t as if working in law enforcement was your first choice–far from it, in fact–but you had flirted with the idea as a gateway into greater things. Like crime scene analysis, forensics, the wonderful world of breaking down an atrocity into neat little facts and figures. Impersonal, logical, removed. That was the real dream. Well, that and a hefty retirement package from being a public employee, but you knew better than to bet on that just yet.

On a whim, you applied. And, again being favored by fate, you were called for an interview. Rinse, repeat. It felt like there would never be an end to it, no respite from the slow and tortuous drag of preparing and regurgitating every detail of your work history. Three rounds of interviews. No one had ever warned you about the tortuous interview process. Followed by what felt like months of silence, you received a job offer. You had never even so much as met these people in person, living hundreds of miles away, and yet somehow you had charmed your way into their good graces.

After a whirlwind of apartment applications, address changes, visits to the DMV, and the assorted multitude of banal little tasks to complete just to move–you finally find yourself there. Day one. Fresh meat. Even with an employee badge you still feel like an outsider, as if walking into this building borders on criminal. The anxiety dissipates as the day drags on, having been introduced to the rest of your unit and several of the deputies and dispatch staff.

But one tiny thought, buried under a litany of other concerns, manages to wiggle its way to the forefront of your mind. Who exactly is this sheriff anyway? Mentioned but not seen, nearly mythologized in the way people spoke about him. You were torn between assuming he was the biggest asshole in the county or a small town darling. At the end of the day, did it matter? It isn’t as if a lowly records clerk would have any sort of contact with a publicly elected official, you reason.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You barely had time to walk through the door after your lunch break when he arrived. Initially, you didn’t even bother to look over. Whoever it was spoke in a pleasant rumble, with an accent you couldn’t help but snicker at internally. It seemed so much more pronounced than the others, almost comically so. But you drown out the conversation more or less instantly. Some men just happened to have voices that are a little too relaxing; that kind of baritone that lulls you into a sense of security, that blends into the soundscape in a way that you only notice when they’re gone.

It’s only when you hear your name that your attention is drawn back to the conversation at hand. No sooner than you register it, footsteps approach. Heavy, confident, undoubtedly masculine. You quirk a brow but make no effort to acknowledge the presence, praying that perhaps it’s simply another deputy passing through. But those footfalls stop right behind you.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

His question comes with a quiet chuckle, the kind that indicated he was rather amused with himself. You roll your eyes, take a deep breath to steel yourself for yet another introduction in a day already full of them, and turn your office chair to face the offending party, It’s then that panic truly strikes. Your gaze falls naturally mid-belly, and you inevitably have to crane your neck a bit to meet his eyes. Of course, of course the one with an attitude has to be tall.

“Not to strangers, no. Isn’t that your first bit of advice in this field, don’t talk to strange men?”

The response is slightly more acerbic than you had intended, and unfortunately for you, he picked up on that instantly. Your mind is already halfway into wondering why he has to be so infuriatingly handsome when his lips curl into a smirk. Oh, that’s dangerous. That’s a look that could melt even the strongest resolve, turn any hard no into a “maybe, but only for you” without so much as an argument. And it only worsens as he draws near, leaning against your desk just a hair too close for comfort, crossing his arms over his chest. Smug motherfucker, you think to yourself, he’d be downright punchable if he wasn’t so goddamn pretty. And it doesn’t help that he smells heavenly.

“Name’s Gus, Gus Gilbert. See, sweetheart, now we’re not strangers.”

Somewhere in the background you can hear your supervisor laughing, as if even she seems to take some kind of twisted pleasure in watching you squirm under his scrutiny. You begrudgingly introduce yourself, offering a polite handshake that you immediately regret the moment his hand seems to completely engulf yours. It’s at this moment you realize Gus may well be a demon built specifically for you, all of your weaknesses wrapped up in one smarmy package. And this was only the beginning.

“I hear you’re our newest addition. Good to meet you, I apologize I didn’t introduce myself sooner. Busy work, bein’ the sheriff,” he adds with a tilt of his head that indicates he’s reveling in burying the lead. In letting you flounder about helplessly as you realize you’ve been terse with the big man himself. But you simply respond with a smile, intent on showing him that he can’t win every fight with charm and good looks. Even if internally, you’re beating your head against a wall.

“I’m sure it is, sir. I don’t envy you, that’s for sure,” you chirp, putting in that extra bit of effort to sound chipper. It doesn’t even fool you, really, and you’d gathered enough about him to know that he almost certainly saw through it. Mercifully, he says nothing about it and instead leans in just enough to tower over your seated form.

“You need anything to settle in, you let me know. I take care of mine.”

It strikes you how genuine he sounds, as if he does actually care, and that paired with the twinkle of playful mischief in his eyes is enough to set your heart racing. Not trusting yourself to speak just yet, you nod and offer him a warm, sincere smile.

“Will do, thank you. I hope I see you around.”

The second those words leave your mouth, you’re kicking yourself. Is it untrue? No, not even close. But admitting it feels like giving him more power over you than you’d like. He seems to pick up on it like a shark scenting blood, flashing you a toothy grin that you know you’ll still be thinking about later.