Tig Trager x Reader
(GIF isn’t mine)
SMUT / Violence
You could see it in his eyes, it had been a tough day. The tension in his shoulders was visible from the kitchen as you watched him hang his kutte on his coat rack and lean down to untie his boots.
“You okay?” you asked, stepping around the kitchen island and closing the distance between you as he stood from kicking his boots off. You reached out to touch his arm, but he shrugged you off, “M’fine,” he grumbled, moving past you and into the kitchen, “Dinner done?” he asked, gesturing to the lasagna that was sitting on the stove, cooling. You took a deep breath, it wasn’t your fault he was being short, he was just stressed.
“Its cooling, but its finished. Sit down, I’ll fix your plate,” you forced a smile, gesturing to his kitchen table.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Alright,” he sighed, plopping down at the table as you approached the stove to dish out his meal.
You sat his plate down in front of him along with a freshly opened beer and squeezed his shoulder before you returned to plate your own food.
On days like this, being with Alexander Trager was a tough job. It became even tougher when taking into account the fact that you weren’t his wife, old lady, or even his girlfriend. You were just his favorite croweater, the one he allowed to spend the night and didn’t kick out in the mornings. You had made it clear recently that you wanted more, and he had seemed open to it, you just had to keep your cool and take his bad moods in stride. You needed to prove your worth to him.
You sat down with your plate and a glass of water; across the table Tig had his head down, shoveling the food you prepared in his mouth. You chuckled, causing him to look up, “I guess it’s good then?” you smiled.
“Too much sauce.” He shook his head, looking back down and continuing to eat.
“I made it just like I usually do,” you spoke softly, looking down at your own plate which tasted fine.
“Obviously not.” Tig grunted, tossing back his beer and letting out a belch. He stood from his seat and pushed his plate away from him as if he was disgusted. You watched, trying to keep your cool, as he pulled another beer from the fridge and walked into the den to plop down on the sofa.
Just like that your appetite was gone. You pushed your plate away and stood up, taking a deep breath and walking lightly over to him. You sat down on the coffee table in front of him, placing your hands on his knees and while his head that was once leaned back against the seatback tilted down to look at you, you whispered to him.
“Talk to me?” you pleaded, meeting his eyes.
“Nah…” he sighed, looking away and taking a swig of his beer.
“Tig I just–”
“–You just what? You’re not my old lady. I don’t owe you anything.” His words stung like the tears that you were trying to hold back as they welled up in your eyes.
“K….” you huffed sadly, standing up and walking back to the dining room to gather the plates none-too-quietly to put them in the sink.
“Right. That’s how you get to be an Old Lady by throwing a fit like a fuckin’ baby when your feelings get hurt.” Tig bit out over his shoulder in your direction.
You threw your water glass in the sink, causing it to shatter as your top finally blew. You were livid. “I don’t deserve this Tig!” you cried out, breathing heavily, your anger bubbling over at how easily he insulted you over and over again.
“You’re right,” he said, standing up from the couch and turning around to face you, “So why are you here?” he asked.
You let out a humorless laugh, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You know what? I’m done with your abuse.”
You stomped towards the door, struggling through your anger to put your own boots on as Tig continued to make things worse.
“I hope you’re not bluffing, thinking I’m gonna beg you not to go.”
“No. Tig. I wasn’t expecting that from an asshole like you!” You didn’t care about pissing him off anymore, in fact, you wanted to piss him off like he pissed you off.
“I’d rather be alone anyway!” his voice was getting louder.
“Well you’re getting your wish,” you answered matching his volume, “I’m gone.”
“Am I supposed to be sad?” he was bitterly mocking you now, getting louder.
“No,” you spat, “And neither am I because unlike YOU, I won’t be alone tonight.”
“So?!” Tig growled.
“So! Your. Dick. Ain’t. Shit!!!” You yelled finally before turning and fumbling for your keys in your purse, your anger boiling over making your hands tremble and your breathing unsteady.
You could feel the uneasiness in the air as Tig processed the last words you spoke.
“…… What did you say?” His voice was shaking lividly as he questioned you through gritted teeth. He was still standing at the sofa, his fists were clenched, and his jaw was set.
“You heard me,” you growled as you continued to look for your keys.
With that, Tig was striding over to you, his eyes were intense and furious. You were actually afraid for your safety but you held your ground, swallowing your fear and looking him in the eye as he stepped toe-to-toe with you.
“You wanna say it again,” he was daring you.
“Your dick,” you paused, studying his face, “is weak.” Your top lip curled into a scowl before turning into a menacing smile. Of course you were lying, but insulting Tig’s manhood was the only card you had to play, so play it you did.
Tig looked down, tilting his head to the side and cracking his neck. His mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out as he shook his head and flexed his hands, talking to himself.
You had just begun to turn around to leave Tig standing there in his own company when he grabbed your arm, spinning you back around to face him, and pushed you backwards. You couldn’t help the squeak that left your throat as your back hit the door and you threw your free hand up in front of you defensively.
It was Tig’s turn to laugh humorlessly, “It’s not smart to piss someone off who can beat your ass.”
You squirmed against his grip, “Tig, let me go.” His grip was bruising your arm as you tried to pull away.
“Unh Uhh,” he growled, pushing you with even more force against the heavy wooden front door, securing one hand around your throat as he did, and leaning into you, “Remember who you’re talking to, who I am. And next time you decide to get your feelings hurt, remember who you are,” he whispered aggressively in your ear as your chest heaved, both with residual anger from your altercation only moments ago, and now in fear of what Tig was capable of when he was truly angry.
He let go of his grip on your arm, but his other hand remained clasped around your throat as he pulled his face away from your ear to stare into your eyes with his piercing blue ones, his alcohol-ridden breath ghosting across your face while he watched you.
There was a beat of silence where you thought he might let you go and tell you to get out, but then out of nowhere he pressed his lips against yours. Shocked, you tried to pull back but his grip around your neck tightened as he held you in place and stepped in closer, pressing his body against you. He reached up with his free hand, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing it through your shirt as he ground his hips into you. You could feel him becoming hard through his jeans as he rubbed against you. Soon your fear gave way to excitement, his touch eliciting an involuntary moan to escape your mouth.
“You like that? Huh?” he whispered against your lips, and you nodded while his fingers uncurled from around your neck and shot down to your jeans to unbutton them.
“You dirty little girl….” he growled, kissing you again but harder this time, biting your bottom lip as he did.
He shoved his hand inside your panties, moving his lips from your mouth down to your neck and biting down on your pulse.
“God, Tig…” you panted, looking up at the ceiling as his assault on your neck continued and he circled your clit with his middle finger. As quickly as he began, he removed his hand from between your legs, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling your head back to look into his eyes. He kissed you one more time.
“On your knees.” he scowled.
“Fuck you,” you spat, scowling back at him.
He grinned menacingly in response, licking his lips before forcing you down by your hair and unbuckling his own belt to pull his dick out.
“Come on,” he ordered. You just stared at him.
Tig let out an exasperated growl, “You’re just making it worse for yourself.” He warned, yanking you back up to your feet and dragging you into the kitchen.
He stopped when he got to the dining room table, stepping aside and pushing down on your back to bend you over.
“Don’t move,” he warned, moving behind you and jerking your jeans and panties down. You had to stifle a giggle as he delivered a smack to your ass cheek, soothing the sting with a sloppy open mouthed kiss. Just as the sting began to subside, he bit down harshly, causing you to moan loudly.
“You like that?” he mumbled against your skin, “But I’m weak, remember?” he taunted you before pressing his mouth against your exposed core.
“Ohh fuck Tig,” you moaned aloud, your nails scratching at the tabletop you were pressed against as he worked his tongue against your center.
“God… Don’t stop.” You breathed, pressing your ass back against his tongue.
Tig pulled away from you, a low chuckle coming from his throat as he did. He knew how much you hated being teased and he was punishing you for insulting him. He stood up behind you, kicking his own jeans off and stroking himself as he traced the bruise forming on your cheek from his bite.
You began to stand up from your doubled-over position but Tig had other plans for you, placing his palm between your shoulder blades and pushing you back down, “I said…. Don’t move.” he warned as he ran the tip of his length across your entrance.
“Dick ain’t shit, huh?” he asked, as he pushed inside of you and you gasped at the intrusion.
Tig chuckled at your reaction, “What was that baby?” he taunted as he thrusted inside you, making you yell out.
“Shh….” Tig cooed as he stilled himself inside you, “Be quiet, doll. This weak dick shouldn’t be making you scream…” you could hear his smile in his voice as he began to move again. In an attempt to keep quiet, you covered your moans with your hand as he set a fast and violent pace, pounding into you. You knew he was trying to make you moan, scream, yell, and you knew you really wanted to, but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Your body betrayed you though, as your orgasm approached quickly, rippling through your body as your inner muscles spasmed around his dick. You turned your head to the side, a silent ‘Oh’ etched across your face as your knuckles turned white from the grip you had on the table.
Tig bared down on you, reaching forward and tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back so he could press his lips to your ear.
“Tell me the truth, doll,” he teased, “you love this dick.”
You couldn’t keep it in anymore, you let out a moan as he bit down on the shell of your ear, “I love it, Tiggy.”
“You fucking love it?”
“Yes baby I love it!” You answered just as he shoved his dick in you one last time before pulling out and spilling himself all over your ass. His free hand squeezing tightly on your left cheek while he stroked himself. The two of you let out a sigh at the same time, finishing in a snicker.
Tig slapped your ass, “Get off my table, girl,” he joked, beaming at his job well done.
You turned to him as you stood from the table, kissing him briefly on the lips before walking down the hall to his restroom.
“Hey, start my bath water while you’re in there!” he yelled to you as you reached the bathroom door.
“Watch who you’re ordering around, weak dick,” you winked at him from the doorway as his expression fell into a scowl again and he started down the hall after you.
“You are one hard-headed bitch,” he growled, a smirk beginning to pull at the sides of his mouth as he reached the doorway and pushed you inside the bathroom.