part time soulmate, full time problem
Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!
Summary: The brat and brat tamer finally show their true colors while the snowstorm rages on.
CW/Tags: explicit language, toxic banter, discussions of “harder” kinks, sex toys, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamic, brat/brat tamer dynamic, bondage, forced orgasm, rough unprotected sex, daddy kink, aftercare
Word count: 9.2k+
Series Masterlist // Read on AO3
Day 4
The snow won’t give up.
The only way you can see anything outside is if you breathe on the glass of the old, drafty windows upstairs, and catch even a glimpse past the ice that gives way to the quick burst of heat. It’s useless when you realize how hard it’s snowing outside; not even the sun is visible.
You’re waking up slowly, enjoying the warmth of the bed, grateful the power kicked back on last night. The last thing you needed was sharing anything with Gator.
That sliver of peace is ruined by the metal music blaring from Gator’s room. It’s muffled, but the old walls of this farmhouse aren’t forgiving when it comes to any sound above a whisper. Glancing at your phone for the time, the numbers glow for 7:54 am.
What the fuck is his problem?
You roll over into a pillow and scream out of frustration. You’re not sure how much longer you can take of being stuck in the same vicinity as Gator. At this point, freezing to death seems like a better option than staying inside with that fuck boy.
Footsteps heavily work down the hall, and the bathroom door slams, followed by the shower running.
Great, we’re back to the childish temper tantrums.
Music still continues from his room, and you try ignoring it, but it’s just adding to the overwhelming irritation that is the existence of Gator Tillman.
If you just focus on something else— cat videos. Let’s try that. That always works for distractions.
You’re 30 seconds into a video compilation of cute cats on your phone, and can’t pay attention with the fucking music vibrating through the hardwood floors.
Headphones. Those help, noise canceling, should do the trick.
You shove your earbuds in, but even with noise cancellation, it doesn’t bypass the vibrations of music down the hall.
Jesus fucking christ, that’s it.
In one swift chain of motions, you roll off the bed, toss the earbuds aside, and throw the door wide open before stomping down the hall to Gator’s room.
It’s dark; he might be the only one in his family who appreciates blackout curtains. Probably the only thing the two of you have in common. Eyes adjusting to the stark difference from your bright room to his darkened one, you squint at the messy bed, noticing something. It takes a moment, but you make out that it’s two objects.
Then it hits you, and your eyes widen.
Gator was definitely jacking off minutes ago. And the idiot left his phone open on whatever porn he last watched, and—
Is that a fucking sock?
You stifle a laugh; poor dude probably doesn’t even realize fleshlights exist. The sock haphazardly tossed aside had a dark, damp spot.
Yeah, he totally came into that. Fucking loser.
Curiosity gets the best of you, and you’re reaching for his phone without a second thought. Immediately you notice he’s not in incognito mode, and another laugh threatens to escape you. You toss a look over your shoulder, down the hall; bathroom door is still shut, water still running.
Right, music. Turn the music down. That’s what I’m here for, nothing else.
You find the tiny speaker that’s causing all the ruckus, and turn it down low, sighing with relief. Still, you hear the water running, and with another quick glance over your shoulder, your attention falls back onto Gator’s phone.
Tapping on ‘recent searches’, your eyes fixate on the first few searches:
Rough sex, hardcore, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, rough blowjob, —
Your eyes roll; typical searches of a fuck boy on a power trip like him. As you keep snooping, the searches get a little more erotic:
Handcuffs, spanking, humiliation, facefucking, praise kink, anal play—
Dizzy. You feel dizzy. Just a little, but you weren’t expecting this. Your thighs press together as your thoughts spiral, thinking about Gator watching porn about any of these things and getting himself off. You wonder who he thinks about when he touches himself.
Scrolling further, your jaw drops in awe as your eyes scan over kinkier searches:
Forced orgasm, orgasm denial, BDSM, brat taming, choking, femdom—
Your breath hitches while you subconsciously bite your lip.
There’s no fucking way.
Eyes glued to the screen, you can’t stop reading on:
Knife play, somnophilia, CNC, girls with tattoos—
You throw the phone onto the bed at the last one.
Nope. Nope nope nope. I shouldn’t have looked. I should’ve minded my own business.
You knew he had to be into some kind of power play dynamics, but not… not some of these.
And of course, most are ones you’ve searched to get off to in theory, some you’ve tried and liked, and some you’ve heard of but never looked into.
But now? Now, your mind is flickering through multiple scenarios; being bound with a vibrator, left to have one forced orgasm after another while Gator just watches, waking up to Gator railing you. Kneeling on the floor with your hands cuffed behind your back, letting Gator take control and fuck your mouth, spit drooling all over you, him releasing down your throat while praising you for being a good girl—
The dirty thoughts are out of control now; you’re wondering how he sounds when he moans, when he cums, what it’s like when he’s the sub obeying you—
How the hell did Gator not know what the term ‘vanilla’ means?
— does he know CNC has to be discussed before role playing? Does he know safe words exist? You’re hoping he has an ounce of common sense among the brain rot to understand how consent works in these scenarios and kinks, that porn isn’t truthful when it comes to aftercare. Jesus… Does he even know aftercare is a must?
… I could teach him— no. No. Brain, shut the fuck up. Stop snooping, go back to your room.
You turn quickly to scurry out, but literally run into Gator as he’s entering the room. You’re bumped back a few feet, eyes met with the view of Gator in just a towel, hanging low on his hips. His hair is pushed back as usual, but it’s not styled, so a few strands fall in his face. Droplets of water dance down his body, and you’re trying your hardest to not follow them, watching where they end up.
“Lookin’ for somethin’, freak?”
“N- no, I just wanted to turn the music down. It’s 8 in the morning, Gator. I wanted to sleep.” You’re trying to hold yourself together, like you weren’t just combing through his porn searches, like you weren’t just squishing your legs together to relieve the ache from arousal, even a little bit.
Gator’s brow quirks up as he eyes you up and down, then to the bed behind you. “Uh-huh. I heard the music get quiet five minutes ago. Wanna tell me why you’re really here?”
All thoughts dissolve with the darkened look in his eyes, holding your glazed over look with a death grip. All you can bring yourself to do is shake your head slowly.
“Where’s all that backtalk from last night?” Gator takes a step forward, and you’re frozen in place.
“You—“ You’re pushing yourself to gather the tiniest amount of courage before blurting out, “You don’t even use incognito mode?”
“That’s what you’re asking?” He laughs, and there’s that signature smirk again. Your fingers tighten into a fist at your side, anger bubbling up inside. “What’d you see? How much, huh?”
“Enough to see what you’ve never done before, just fantasies.” You can’t keep the words from spilling out with spite. “Which, I guess, is everything, huh?”
The smirk falls, and Gator reaches for you, but you’re faster, grabbing one of his arms to pin it behind his back as you shove him face down onto his bed. While he’s bent over, you repeat your actions from last night, pinning him in place with the strength of your legs. This time, you’re standing over him, and you imagine this position must be humiliating for him.
Except, Gator moans.
Your cunt throbs at the sound, but you hold your composure.
“What did I say last night? Touch me again and your teeth will be decked down your pathetic, whiny little throat.” You tug his head up by his hair, water dripping between your fingers back onto him and the bed. He whimpers before you continue taunting him. “Who the fuck jacks off into a sock anyway?
“I- I don’t like making a mess,” He sputters as you push his face back into the bed, stepping off of him. He stays put while you head for the door, both of you breathing heavily. As you turn back, he flips onto his back, entire body red, outline of his member completely visible through the towel as it grows hard. He pushes his hair back, panting as he keeps his eyes on you.
“You should try it sometime, makin’ a mess.” You’re the one with the insufferable smirk now. Before walking down the hall, you give him a once over before turning. “It’s kinda hot.”
You don’t look back, but you know you have that man falling apart already.
———
You’ve been opening and closing the weather app on your phone for several minutes now, hoping the forecast would change the next time you refresh the app.
It doesn’t. That’s not how it works. You know that. But you’re desperate for a sign of hope that you’ll be getting out of this house sooner rather than later.
Instead, the forecast continues to show the ongoing snowstorm, with no end in sight. Or not for the next several days, at least. You make an annoyed noise, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, dragging it out dramatically.
“You good over there?”
Gator’s been so quiet for once, you forgot he’s here, even though he’s just at the other end of the couch. You look over the top of your phone at him, and sneer, “I’d be better if I wasn’t trapped in this house forever.”
“We’re not snowed in forever.” Gator laughs. “Drama queen.”
You’re only a little offended, but you gasp dramatically anyway.
“Dramatics aside, Christmas is tomorrow, and it doesn’t even feel like it. And the people I came home for aren’t even here.” You frown a little, and Gator honestly does feel bad for you. “Not like they’d even make me feel welcomed back home.”
“I… I know I’m not someone you wanna spend the holiday with, but we could still try to make the best of it.” Gator’s voice wavers with his vulnerability, and it’s hard to miss.
You sit up to look at him, “Honestly Gator, I know you’d rather spend it elsewhere, far away from me… but I’d like to make the best of it too. If you’re serious, that is.”
“Well, yeah. I’d rather not have our families come back to a bloodbath from two ex-friends that couldn’t play nice.” Gator snorts while you playfully shove his shoulder.
“You make it seem like I hate you.”
Gator’s laugh drops as he stares at you, confused, “… Because you do.”
Your mouth opens, but you can’t think of the right words to release. “I, um…”
Gator shrugs, “It’s okay, really. Ya’ got every reason under the sun to hate me.”
You’re shaking your head as you move closer to him. “No… I did. I’m not gonna lie. Part of me still does, Gator. This is really weird. All of this. I didn’t think Christmas would be spent with the one person who pushed me away when I trusted them the most. But here we are. I’m trying to make sense of it all, so this is just… a lot for me.”
Gator’s gaze grabs yours, and it feels like everything at the edges around you two are fading out. There’s been a tension between the two of you these last few days that’s ready to break any moment now.
But you aren’t ready for the tension to break. Not yet.
Still, you can’t help but wonder, “Do you hate me?”
Gator’s brows knit together as he shakes his head. “No. No way. I mean, sure, you’re irritatin’ and a brat sometimes—“
Now wait a fuckin’ second.
“— I’m not a brat.”
“That’s an argument for another day.” Gator hits his vape, letting his head fall back onto the couch before he exhales through his nose.
“No, tell me why you think that.”
Gator’s trying his best not to laugh at your attempt to demand an answer. “It’s not that deep.”
“Then why’d you call me that?” You know you’re pushing his buttons, but you’re curious why he’s calling you a brat, especially after seeing his recent porn searches this morning.
“Are you hearin’ yourself right now? I thought brats were more self aware.” He hits his vape, laughing as he exhales.
Fine, you’ll just get to the point. “Is that why you were lookin’ for ‘brat taming’ porn earlier?”
Gator’s laugh falls short as he chokes on the last of the vapor escaping him. “Oh you got faaaaarrrr in my searches, huh?”
“You’re the one not clearin’ your browser history, fuckin’ idiot.”
The smug smirk is back, “No one said you had to look. Not like you should be goin’ through someone else’s stuff anyway, darlin’.”
Heat blooms across your face. “Quit callin’ me darlin’.”
“I’ll call ya’ what I want.”
“You’ll be callin’ an ambulance if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
Gator clicks his tongue in disapproval. “You’re always so quick to pull out the threats. You and I both know you can’t follow through on these.”
On the outside, you look pissed. On the inside, you’re hoping to wind him up enough to make him make a move.
“You talk real cocky for someone who cums in a sock.”
Gator looks annoyed now, hitting his vape again. “I told you, I don’ like makin’ a mess.”
It’s gotta be the cabin fever making you so bold by now, “… You could have someone to help clean up, y’know.”
Again, Gator chokes, eyes nearly tumbling from his head as they grow wide. “Are you- is this-“
You’re needy, you’re desperate, you’re snowed in and need to get railed, need anger taken out on you, need to take your anger out on someone. You need something.
“Gator?”
The tension, keep it going, that’s what you’re really enjoying. Not an actual outcome, not with him.
Gator’s leg is touching yours, just ever so slightly. He clears his throat before a small, raspy, ‘Yeah?” comes out.
Fuck it. You’re in too deep now.
You rest your head on the couch, sitting sideways with your legs folded behind you while you study Gator’s features.
“Can we play a game?”
Your hands inch towards him, one hand reaching his own, the other on his leg.
“Like… what?” Gator’s suddenly very aware of how dry his throat is, how dry it sounds while he talks, how chapped his lips are from the goddamn Midwest winter, how pathetic he must look and sound right now.
You’re about to swing a leg over to straddle his lap, “Like—“
—But his fucking phone rings.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Gator grumbles, quickly pulling out his phone to answer it without looking, “What?”
The voice is muffled on the other end, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but you know it’s Roy by the way Gator immediately stammers out an apology for the rude greeting.
There’s an unnecessary string of angry, loud tones coming from the phone’s speaker, and Gator can’t be bothered one bit to care. You’re pretty sure Gator hasn’t blinked while watching you, since resuming your movements over him. You settle your legs on either side of him before finally sitting on his lap. Gator’s biting his lip to hold back the small groan he wants to let out, squeezing his eyes shut to try and focus on the phone call.
Then, you roll your hips, just enough, causing friction between the two of you, and Gator twitches underneath you, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. His free hand grabs your waist roughly, holding you in place while he silently curses at you through a death glare. All while muttering “Uh-huh” and “Yep” and “Mhm” and “Okay, got it” into the phone.
You give Gator a smile sweeter than sugar, and his grip only gets tighter, digging his nails into your side while his jaw clenches.
Oh yeah, he’s pissed now.
“Yeah, yeah, okay— listen, I- uh, I’m getting sick, I think,” Gator fakes a cough into the phone’s mic, “I—“
Gator ends the call, silences his phone, and throws it on the floor before his other hand imitates the one already on your hip.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His teeth grit while his grip only tightens, along with his pants as he grows hard. “This is what I’m talkin’ about, you’re always getting under my skin, pissing me off for what? For fun?”
“Hey, I just wanted to play a game,” You hold up your hands, feigning innocence. “You could’ve ignored the call.”
“And you could’ve stopped bein’ a goddamn slut for two fucking minutes!”
That should’ve set you off, that should’ve been enough to send you back upstairs, ignoring Gator for the night.
Except it doesn’t.
It sets you off in the way that your cunt throbs, and your thighs instinctively try to clench together for relief, but you’re still straddling him. You pray Gator doesn’t notice.
Gator looks down between the two of you, then back up at you with that fucking smirk he’s always ready to flash.
Fuck. Yeah. Yep. He noticed.
“Degradation your thing, huh?”
Now you’re the one pissed off. “I ain’t tellin’ you anythin’ that I like.”
Gator nods, making a face like he understands, it’s reasonable, until he pins your arms behind your back, and it earns a whimper from you.
“It’s not that hard to make a pretty little canary like you sing,” Gator taunts as he brings you closer to him. “Bet you like a lotta’ what I like.”
“Why would I like what you like? You’re a sick fuck.” You wriggle in his grasp, but his grip only tightens. “Gator, fuckin’— that hurts.”
He loosens his hold a bit, gauging your reaction, “Want me to stop?”
“… No.”
His grip tightens again, and you cry out, but it feels good.
“S’what I thought, freak.” Gator’s smirk only grows more smug by the second. “What game did you wanna play?”
It was easier when you were the one taunting him about this “game”, but now that it’s the other way around, you can’t find your voice. You’re embarrassed.
“Aw c’mon, darlin’, you were doin’ so well runnin’ that mouth all day. What happened?” His other hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks as you pout. He mocks your pout with an exaggerated one. “You can tell me.” His hand lets go, trailing down your neck as he expands his fingers, like he’s about to choke you.
There’s gotta be some confidence in ya’ somewhere, don’t just submit to this idiot immediately.
“Well, thing is, Gator… I think we should forget about it.” You’re giving him your sweetest look before kicking his ego. “You’d just lose anyway.”
Annnnndddddd, there it goes. The smirk has fallen once again.
“Upstairs. Now.” His grip on you drops as he pushes you off his lap. You stumble a bit as you get back on your feet, but you wait before following his order. “What did I just say?”
“You said upstairs, but you didn’t say where, exactly.” You shrugged, “Did you mean the bathroom? My room? Yours? The attic? That creepy little storage closet at the end of the—“
Gator sighs, exasperated already by your bratty antics. Unfortunately for him, they’ve only just begun.
“Oh, for the love of— just go in mine.”
You salute him lazily, “You got it, officer.”
It takes all of his willpower to hold back from punish-fucking you on the spot, but you’re finally listening to him, and heading for the stairs.
Before you’re gone he calls out, “And take your fuckin’ clothes off. I want them on the floor by the time I come up there.”
———
You couldn’t even deny it, you really loved riling Gator up, pissing him off— it’s a piece of cake with that short fused moron— it gave you something to do in this depressing, hollow town. Especially if you’re snowed in with nothing to do.
It’s even better in a situation like this, where the two of you are on the verge of hate fucking.
“What— what the fuck is that?”
Gator comes into the room, pointing at your legs, covered by camo cargo pants, his to be specific, along with just your bra. Legs crossed casually as you sit on the bed, your attention doesn’t leave your phone when you respond flatly.
“They’re pants, Gator.”
“Yeah I fuckin’ know that. What are my pants doing on your body?” He strides across the room, yanking the phone from your grip. Unsurprised, you sigh, giving him an annoyed yet bored look.
“You said you wanted my clothes on your floor. I got cold, so I used my resources. You let me use a sweatshirt, figured ya’ wouldn’t mind this either.”
His jaw is clenched, as if he’ll intentionally crack his teeth with the force. It makes you smirk, enjoying where this is headed.
“Take ‘em off.”
Sharply laughing, you shake your head, pushing yourself off the bed. “Nah, I’m good.”
Gator steps closer, narrowing the gap between the two of you. His stare is focused, pissed off and ready to lose his temper over some goddamn pants.
“Take. Them. Off.”
You inch closer, smirking up at him; the height difference never intimidated you.
“I. Don’t. Think. So.”
He closes the space completely, chest against yours as he glares down at you, furious at your attitude.
“Take them off, or I’ll do it for you, brat.”
Again, you’re not intimidated. You know it’s all a tough guy act, toxic masculinity at its finest. Underneath it all, there’s no way Gator’s completely dominant.
Giving him a sickeningly sweet smile, your hand grabs his face, before hitting his ego where it really hurts. “I’d love to see you try, Gator, but you and I both know you’ve never really touched a girl long enough to take her pants off. It’s okay, I know zippers can be like, hard, and stuff.”
In a flash Gator shoves you against the nearest wall, pinning your hands above your head; your smirk still holds strong. He doesn’t find any of this amusing, though.
“You really wanna fuck with me?” He breathes, noses nearly touching. “You’re nowhere near my standards anyway, freak.”
“Ooooooh, what’re ya’ gonna do? Teach me a lesson on discipline, or whatever you pathetic Midwest ‘alpha males’ do?” You’re on a roll, thriving off the way his face is growing red with anger. “Standards? You talkin’ ‘bout the pornstar posters you got in your room? Not a single one of those women would ever touch you with a ten foot pole.”
Gator exhales sharply, grip tightening around your wrists. “Just take the fucking pants off.”
“Now, how do you expect me to do that when you’re the one holding my hands?” No intention of hitting the brakes now. “Y’know, I bet you wouldn’t even know your way around a pretty cunt if you had the chance to touch one. Bet I’ve given girls more orgasms than you, not like that’s hard. But with you? I bet they’ve all faked it. All two of ‘em.”
“You’re just askin’ for trouble, princess.”
“If you just wanted to fuck me, all you had to do was ask, Gator.” You know your teasing is the cherry on top of this ego death handed to him on a silver platter. “But, y’know, you got standards. I get it. Gotta stay loyal to that cock sock you fuck every night. Oh- wait. Is that how you slick your hair back? With your own cum? That’s why it stays in place, huh?”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?”
“Not for guys who unironically call themselves winners.” Your tongue darts out ever so slightly from your teasing smile.
“I’ve fuckin’ had it,” Gator grumbles, spinning you around to face the wall, shoving his body weight onto you fully. You hear him fumble with something for a second, then cold metal is locked around your wrists. Something about the over dramatic action causes heat to pool in your lower tummy.
“What? Ya’ mad my ass looks better than yours in these pants?” You shake your backside, rubbing up against Gator’s half hard cock. “Oh, you’re so enjoying this.”
Gator’s hips rut against you, and even through the layers of fabric between the two of you, you can feel his cock twitch. The sensation pulls a breathy moan from the back of your throat.
His hand pushes your face against the wall, squishing it a little. “You done runnin’ your mouth, freak?”
“Depends… you gon’ admit I’m above your standards?”
“You’re not,” He manages to get out, but you can feel the pressure on your face let up a little as he panics.
“No? C’mon, Gator. You were searching for porn with tattooed girls. Those searches are gonna royally fuck with your ads, by the way—“
Gator flips you back around, pushing your back to the wall again. He leans in, lips barely touching yours. “We gon’ ignore how you were snoopin’ around where you don’t belong? I think that’s a bigger issue, don’t you?”
“Yeah, actually. Until you admit the truth that I am your type.”
“Except, you’re not.”
“Right, so that’s why you handcuffed me over the fact I’m simply wearing your pants.”
Gator’s jaw clenches, leg kicking your feet wider apart. You stumble a bit.
“What’s tha— oh…”
Eyes fluttering shut, your head tilts back against the wall as your mouth falls open, all because Gator pressed his leg against your cunt.
“You’re not innocent either, freak. C’mon, make yourself feel good, just like you want.” Gator doesn’t move his leg, expecting you to do the work. It’s humiliating, and ignites something within you. “Thought y’knew the walls are thin here, but I heard you last night, after the power came back. Didn’t think you’d bring a vibrator of all things… you’re gross.”
Your eyes open but you’re too embarrassed to look at him.
“M’not gross…”
The scolding and degradation makes your hips move without thinking. Relief floods through your body as you start the friction on your clothed, throbbing clit.
“Look at me,” Gator grabs your chin, forcing you to look his way. “Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” You’re not even trying to be a brat, you just can't think straight with how his leg tenses against your core.
“Don’t play dumb, it’ll just make this worse.”
You take a moment to think; right, the vibrator. “It- it’s in m’suitcase… the little pocket—“
Gator pulls back, pulling you over to his bed. You fall face first into the mattress, just like he did earlier today. “Don’t move.”
He returns in record time, holding your vibrator, and another toy. You look over your shoulder, eyes growing wide at the second toy, a vibrating dildo.
“The fuck are you doin’ with this?”
“Um. Well. Fucking myself, Gator. Y’know, that’s the use it’s intended f—“
Gator’s behind you as you’re bent over his bed, pulling you up by your hair, mirroring your own actions from this morning. “First you’re playin’ dumb, now you’re tryin’ to be smart… I don’t got time for this, freak.” He unlocks the cuffs, but still keeps you restrained with his hands.
“Clearly, you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be— hey!”
Pushing you onto your back, he nods to the bed frame. “Up.”
You do as he says, and Gator grabs each arm, cuffing them to the bed frame. “Jesus, how many of these ya’ got?”
“Two more pairs to hold down brats like you.”
Your legs instinctively go to press together, but Gator shoves them apart again.
“Stay.”
His hands are rough as he tugs the pants off of you, throwing them on the floor before restraining your legs, too.
You had to know if he understood trust and boundaries, and how important they are in kink. “Hey… what if I didn’t want this?”
To your surprise, his face softens, almost… worried. “Then we’re done. What’s the point if you don’t want it, too?” He goes to reach for one of the handcuffs, key in hand to unlock it.
“Wait!” Now Gator just looks confused, but hopeful. “I… fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, Gator, I actually do want… this.”
He pulls back, studying your expression. “Yeah?”
“Yeah… but only if you respect safe words, too.”
“Yeah, duh. F’course I do.” Gator’s voice softens while he climbs back over you, straddling you while you’re restrained, spread eagle style. “What is it?”
Your brain shuffles random things and tidbits, digging for something from the last few days. When you land on it, you have to bite your lip to hold back a laugh. Gator can tell you’re up to something, rolling his eyes.
“What is it?”
“… socks.”
“You’re not gon’ let me live that one down, huh?”
“Absolutely fuckin’ not.”
Gator sighs before leaning in closer, faces nearly touching again. Your breath hitches and becomes shallow.
“If there’s anythin’ you don’t like, you tell me. Got it?”
You nod enthusiastically.
“How the hell didn’t you know what ‘vanilla’ meant yesterday?” You wonder out loud.
“No fuckin’ clue.” He grabs your face again, this time a little softer. “You gon’ be good for me?”
“Ye- yeah, Gator.” You pout, looking at his lips. “Wanna kiss you.”
“Not until you earn it.” His voice is firm and low. He pushes off of you before reaching for your core, toying with the edge of your underwear, pausing to check if it’s okay to continue. Once you nod in approval, whimpering at his brief touch, he slides the fabric aside, murmuring, “Fuckin hell…” at the sight of your cunt.
“Can ya’ handle both?”
Your eyes grow wide; he’s talking about both vibrating toys, and you’re nervous. “I- I’ve never tried.”
Gator runs the tip of the dildo between your folds, already wet. When it brushes against your clit, your back arches as you mewl. “Y’get wet real easy, huh?”
Before you can answer, he pushes the toy into you about halfway. Your back arches further with a loud whine escaping you as it stretches you out. He slides the toy out slowly, while your hips roll forward, desperate for more. Gator pushes it back in, teasingly slow, enjoying the view of your head falling back onto his pillows, face twisting in pleasure.
He does this a few more times before leaving the toy inside you. “Oh, shit. Wait. I didn’t turn it on.” With a flick of the switch on the base, you’re seeing stars as the vibrations radiate through your centre. He knew what he was doing, smirking when you moan.
Gator turns the small vibrator on, too, placing it snug under the fabric of your underwear, pressed right up against your needy clit. You twitch and shudder out another moan while Gator pulls the fabric back in place, backing up to stand over you from the bottom of the bed frame.
“Wonder how long you can last like this…” Gator’s mostly mumbling to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear. He sits back in the chair by the desk, leaning back a little while he palms himself through his pants. You watch and whine, wishing he was closer.
“N- not long, I don’t think,” You stutter out, eyes crossing from the pleasure already. Shuddering moans emit from you, and Gator chuckles, pulling out his phone.
“I gotta make a quick call, can you stay quiet for me?”
You’re panting, fists grabbing at nothing, “Wha— No, what the fuck, Gator? I s— oh, fuckin’ hell—“ body shivering, you glare at him. “What if I do moan? Huh? What if I ain’t quiet? I could get you in soooo much trouble with your daddy.”
“And you wouldn’t get scolded by yours?”
“I don’t live here. But you do. I’m on my own now, I’ll be across the country while you’re still gettin’ pissed because your daddy won’t quit shamin’ you for havin’ a slut in his house.”
Storming over to you, he grabs a red bandanna, draped over the edge of the nightstand. He leans down to you as he rolls the fabric, “Don’t move, and keep your filthy mouth open.”
“It’s kinda hard to not move when I- ohmygod.” The vibrations between the two toys are relentless, hitting both of your sweet spots just right. You’re about to fucking lose it.
Your mouth hangs open, and Gator shoves the rolled bandanna between your lips, reaching behind your head to tie it securely.
You try making noises, but they’re muffled, not by much, but it’s enough. Gator brings his pointer finger up to his lips, silently shushing you. Another moan sounds out, but you quickly stop it halfway in its tracks as Gator glares at you with disapproval, phone already to his ear.
Gator starts speaking, but you can’t comprehend a single word he says. Your mind is fuzzy from the stimulation; there’s a reason you’ve never used both toys at once, and it seems like Gator will have to find out the hard way.
Once upon a time, you owned a rabbit, one of those vibrators that plays with your clit and g-spot simultaneously. That was the night you learned you could squirt, and you were conflicted with how good and dirty it felt. You tucked that toy away in a shoebox in the back of your closet, not using it since.
This… this kind of feels like that, and it’s not like you could warn Gator about the outcome now with your mouth crudely gagged.
Gator can’t take his eyes off of you, body shaking, legs convulsing, the way your knees try bending towards each other to close your legs, and how your hips continue to buck up into the empty space around you. Your sweet little facial expressions, like how you alternate from biting down on the fabric to clamping your eyes shut, how your eyes cross when you’re overstimulated, all while doing your best to keep quiet, as ordered.
Yeah, he could get used to a sight like this, like you.
He leans against the edge of the desk, back in conversation with his father by the sound of it— Jesus Christ, that’s nerve wracking right now— while giving you the “shhh” signal again, already hearing how close you are to breaking.
Please get off the phone please get off the phone please get off the—
You’re unprepared for your climax, ripping you out of reality so quickly, but it’s easy to reach the top while overstimulated. Something about the way Gator watches you helps, too. The sting of broken skin on your lip, somehow made possible even with the fabric gagging you, the ache around your ankles and wrists from tugging on the cuffs; you know you’re not just coming undone, you’re absolutely wrecked.
It’s all so much, it’s all too much, you have no control over how your body takes the high, and you’re absolutely unaware of your reaction, drowning in pure bliss and agony. With the little sliver of sanity you have left, you’re left wondering how loud you were, and how mad Gator’s going to be.
Winding down, you’re nothing but putty, ready to melt over the edges of the bed. Your eyes focus on your surroundings; everything’s so blurry as you open your eyes, like you slept for 10 hours. There’s the taste of blood on your tongue. You’re panting, and you feel soaked everywhere.
“Why the tears, darlin’?”
Vision still fuzzy at the edges, you look up and see Gator at the edge of the bed, reaching out to wipe your face while extra jolts of pleasure make their way out of you.
“Seriously, ya’ alright?”
Am I what? Alright?
Gator pulls the fabric out of your mouth and down under your chin.
“I…. “
You realize you’re covered in sweat, but your entire bottom half of your body is wet from—
Oh, god fucking dammit.
“Gator, I- I-“
He’s quick to uncuff your limbs, one by one, before sitting behind you on the bed and pulling you close to him, letting your back rest on his chest.
Gator removes both toys slowly, trying to be gentle with how sensitive you must feel right now, and you can hear a wet, squelching noise as he peels the fabric of your underwear aside. You’re so embarrassed as you shut your eyes, still panting as you try catching your breath.
“C’mere,” Gator wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder softly, lips lingering against your skin.
“M’sorry, Gator.” Your voice is meek and raspy.
“For what? You stayed quiet for me.” Gator buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing at the curve where it meets your shoulder. “You were so good for me, darlin’.”
Your head shakes; you’re even more embarrassed how juvenile your reaction is right now.
“No? Why d’ya think that?” Gator asks.
“M’gross, I- it happened, didn’t it?”
He’s confused, brow quirking up as he leans forward to see your face better.
“What? Making noise? As soon as you started to, I got off the phone, I promise. No one heard you but me.”
Okay, that brought some relief. Normally, you’d find a situation like that incredibly hot, and even now, you did. But it was overwhelming this time. Like you’d really get yourself or Gator in trouble.
You almost feel like how you did as kids; the two of you would lie to have one another’s back. But now, the two of you are fully grown adults, and still as mischievous as ever, with a filthy twist.
“I- did I-“
“Squirt? Yeah,” Gator breathes with a grin. “That was fuckin’ insane. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”
“I was gonna, but you gagged me. Jerk.”
“Why are you upset about it, though? It’s normal, y’know.”
You knew. And you thought it was… oddly sweet that Gator was trying to reassure you on that, too.
“Not… not upset, just embarrassed, I guess.” Your breathing’s beginning to regulate, but you’re drained from everything. “Only ever did it once, and I was, uh…” Your voice shrinks, “I was alone.”
It takes a minute for Gator to get it, but when he does, that goddamn smug smirk is back on his face.
“I did that?”
“Gator I hate to break it to ya’, but technically, the fake dick did it.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m the first to see it though?” His voice is still excited.
With an exaggerated sigh, you say, “Yes, Gator. You’re the first person to watch me squirt. Happy?”
“Ya’ kiddin’ me? I’m on cloud fuckin’ nine right now.”
His enthusiasm makes you giggle. “I can help… with the sheets. I’m sorry.”
“Quit apologizin’ already. I’ll get it.” Gator doesn’t sound bothered, surprisingly. “It happens, and if it happens again, I won’t complain.”
With a grin, your eyebrows pop up as you turn around to see him better. “Again? You bankin’ on a second round, Tillman?”
He shrugs, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Well, someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta ya’.”
Gator reaches up to lightly grip the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to him.
“Still want that kiss, freak?”
With a quick nod, you’re the one to move in first, and it’s not like the movies. It’s not the way people describe in love songs. It’s not totally soft; Gator’s lips are chapped, and you’re sore from biting down on your own. He tastes like that stupid fucking vape, making him sweeter than he really is. Teeth are clashing every so often. It’s clumsy and rough, and definitely not silver screen worthy. But fuck, does it feel good.
Pulling back a little, your lips still touch his ever so slightly. “I still hate you.”
Gator laughs lowly, hand snaking down between the two of you to palm your still-soaked cunt. “Yeah, sure, what’s all this then?” You gasp, still sensitive, but he just presses harder, heel of his palm adding pressure to your swollen clit.
“I can’t—“
Gator’s hand pulls away and you whine at the loss. It hurt but felt so damn good, too.
“C’mon, lemme help ya’ get cleaned up.” He gets up, but you sit there, stunned.
“You? Help?”
He scoffs but follows it with a smile; it’s small, and you’re skeptical, but he says, “What? Is it so bad I wanna take care of ya’ right now? I ain’t a total jerk.”
“That…. Is incredibly debatable, but for another day.” You’re slowly getting up, legs weak. Gator reaches out his arm, and you grab it, face covered in disbelief. You murmur to yourself, “Didn’t think you even knew what aftercare was,” and Gator rolled his eyes as the two of you left his room.
“Look, I know there’s a lot I don’t do by the rules—“
“A lot….” You’re stifling a laugh, but Gator doesn’t find it funny.
He narrows his eyes at you while pulling you into the bathroom. “There’s just some rules you don’t fuck around with.” He leans you against the sink before reaching to turn the tub’s water on.
“And what are these mystical, fictitious rules you speak of?” You’re a little delirious, laughing weakly, watching Gator check to see if the water’s too hot. He turns to look at you from the floor, expression void of any kind of smile.
“I’m serious, the last thing I wanna do is hurt ya’.”
A laugh tumbles from your kiss-swollen lips, “…. Unless I consensually ask for it.”
That breaks Gator’s stoic gaze with a tiny huff of a laugh. “Okay, freak. Noted.”
You know he’s just responding in a lighthearted tone, but you wonder if things would last long enough to get to that level. You wonder what other kinds of trouble you could get into with him. So, you can’t help asking about it, “Speaking of… did I see your entire kink list this morning in your searches?”
Gator stands up; this time, the height difference isn’t him trying to be intimidating. You’re not sure what it is, but something about the entirety of this moment is comforting.
His go-to smirk appears with a shrug. “What do ya’ think?”
“What do you think I think?”
He steps closer, “I think… it’s funny how I’ve seen more of your body than mine and it’s only been four days.”
“And somehow, in the last four days, I’ve learned more about your sex life than you have of mine.” You retort with a sly smirk. “Guess we’re even.”
“Not even close, babe.” Another step closer. “We got time to make up for it, though.”
You frown. “You’re not answering my question.”
“‘Cause ya’ didn’t answer mine.” He murmurs lowly. Leaning forward, his hands rest on the counter, arms caging you in.
Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, fingers grabbing at the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly before answering. “I don’t think it’s everything… but I wanna know everything.”
“Oh, do you, now?” Gator’s lips are nearly on yours, just touching enough to tease. “Ya’ finally gonna tell me what you like, then?”
Breath stuck in your throat, you nod silently before Gator finally closes the gap to kiss you.
This time is softer and slower, with open mouthed kisses, sighing into one another. Your hands wind around his hips, tugging him closer, his clothed hard-on brushing into your sensitive centre causing you to whine.
Gator gently nudges you up onto the sink’s counter, and your arms explore up his back, under his shirt, clawing lightly at his warm skin. Your legs hook around his waist, while his hands are already teasing under your bra, groaning as his fingers brush against the piercings in your nipples before lightly pinching and pulling, earning more soft whines from you.
“Fuck… when’d ya’ get these done?” Pulling back, Gator kisses and nips lightly along your jaw, down your neck, murmuring into your skin, “Keep makin’ those noises, darlin’. You sound so cute when you’re needy.”
That alone makes you shudder out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your head falls back onto the mirror. Gator takes the opportunity to bite and suck at your neck, soft and slow.
“Didn’t think you— ah— could be sweet, Gator. Or is that just when ya’ want somethin’?” You gasp, hips already moving to meet his.
“Just wanna know what you like, that’s all.” He keeps kissing down, biting every so often as he makes his way towards your tits. He pulls your bra down, groaning at the sight of your bare chest and the piercings. They’re tiny barbells, with little gems on either end, but it’s driving him insane. “Fuckin’—“ He can’t finish his thought before latching onto your nipple, sucking in an agonizingly slow, teasing way. Every so often he nips at your skin, then soothes it with his tongue swirling around.
All you can think of is how good his mouth would feel working like this on your clit, speaking without thinking while in a daze, “Wanna know what game— fuck— what game I wanted to play?”
Gator doesn’t move, but his eyes glance up at you while he continues his cycle of sucking, biting, and soothing. Mouth still on you, he responds with a muffled “Uh-huh” before resuming his motions. You grip the back of his head as you gasp, back arching slightly away from the mirror.
Between breathy moans, you respond with only, “Just the tip.”
Gator’s eyes roll back in his head as he moans against your skin. He pulls off, the motion echoing a soft popping noise against the walls, admiring how messy you look already with darkened eyes.
“Yeah?” Gator’s hand reaches under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “You sure you can handle that?”
Nodding, a mischievous smile appears from you. Your eyes are hooded, sleepy with lust. “Mhm, but can you?”
Gator scoffs, “F’course I can, freak.”
“First one to give in loses. If I win, you have to guess three of my kinks.” You’re pulling his pants down, eyes going wide at the sight of no boxers, then his cock springing free. You whisper to yourself “Christ, you’re big…” but he clearly hears it and laughs.
“Fine, and if I—“ Gator chokes on his words as you lean forward, spitting onto his cock before slowly stroking him. “-I- I get to- to—“
“Aw, it’s okay,” You taunt, taking your time stroking and spreading your saliva on his member. Your thumb swipes over the tip, feeling it pulsate under your touch as precum begins to leak out. “Take your time, Gator, words are hard when you’re busy.”
Gator’s stuck between a submissive, needy moan, and a growl, irritated with your sweet, backhanded taunting.
“You sure you wanna do this?” You ask against his lips, relishing in his desperate gasps he tries to hide. “Don’t want to hurt your ego, baby.”
“Watch your mouth, brat.” Gator’s hand grips at your throat, not squeezing, just resting, waiting for your signal.
“I’ll make it easy for ya’, if you win, you get me like an open book.” You grin, leaning into his palm resting on your neck. “You get everything I like, everything I’ve done, everything I wanna do. How’s that sound?”
Gator’s hand moves, lifting your leg as he pulls your underwear to the side, still wet from earlier. You slip your arms under both of your legs, taking over. He guides his cock against your cunt, sliding his length slowly along your folds. The two of you are already making loud, lewd noises, each of you fixated on the place where your bodies finally meet so intimately.
“Fuck, darlin’ you’re so-“ He’s speechless, watching how easily your arousal makes his cock glisten. You rock against him, tip brushing against your clit, making you shudder.
“Please? Just a little, just wanna feel you…”
“I dunno, might split that pretty pussy right in half.” Gator grunts as he teases the head of his cock along your entrance. Your eyes want to roll back, but you force them to stay on Gator, watching his every move. “Not sure I’d fit.”
“I know you,” You gasp as the tip pushes in just a tiny bit. He pulls back out, teasing at the entrance again. “You’d make it fit. You’d make me take it, huh?”
Gator’s head falls back, mouth open as he imagines railing you without mercy.
“You’d make me cry, huh? I bet you’d like to make me cry, make me beg for more, even if it hurts at first.” Your words exit without warning, but you can’t stop yourself, not when Gator feels this good against you. “You’ve been dyin’ to hate fuck me, I know it. C’mon, you can tell me.”
Gator’s eyes shut tight, trying to control himself, because he could honestly just cum right here with how you’re talking and how good you feel on the outside alone. He breathes slowly, cautiously looking down at you.
You’re already cock-drunk, chest heaving as you pant, eyes heavy with lust, already looking like you could slip into sub-space at any moment. Gator wants more than anything to be a winner, but with how you look right now—
“Fuck it,” He grunts, about to push into you, but as much as it pains him, he stops himself. You’re about to ask if he’s okay when he blurts, “I don’t have condoms.”
You giggle, “M’on the shot.”
“The what?” Gator looks so confused among the desire controlling him.
“Birth control. Duh.” You breathe, and Gator takes a second before it hits him.
“So you mean—“
“Yes-“
“Are you sure? Because I- we can-“ suddenly he’s stammering, nervous, and it’s almost sweet that he cares.
But you don’t want sweet right now.
That’s all out the window though, with you saying, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gator. Just fuck me already.”
Wasting no time, Gator pushes his head in, trying his best to be patient and let you get used to him. Your eyes twist shut as your mouth falls open in a silent cry, feeling yourself stretch around him while he continues pushing slowly.
“Stay with me, darlin’, I wanna play with ya’ before I ruin ya’.” Gator mutters in a gravelly tone, hand reaching up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “Doin’ alright?”
You nod quickly, but your eyes are still shut. Gator’s fingers reach up into your hair, tugging lightly, testing the waters. That opens your eyes.
“Answer me.”
“Yeah, yes, I- keep going, please.”
Gator loosens his grip with a rough laugh, “You got it, darlin’.” Every time he calls you that, your grip around him tightens. “Jesus fuckin’- you like me callin’ ya’ sweet names?”
He bottoms out, and you lock him in, legs back around his waist. You breathe, “uh-huh..”
Gator slowly pulls back, nearly pulling out, watching your reaction as he does. He enjoys the way you pout, already so wrapped up in the feeling he’s giving you.
“I like bein’ sweet with ya’, darlin’…” Gator snaps his hips, thrusting into you without warning. You cry out as he fills you up so quickly. “… but I think we both know you need it rough right now, yeah?
You’re whimpering as you nod, clawing at his back. “Mhm, yeah, yeah.”
“Like I said,” Gator rocks his hips harder, hitting your sweet spot, grunting as he does. “Someone’s gotta— oh, fuck— gotta fuck the brat outta ya’.”
It’s a slip of the tongue, it’s fleeting, but you beg, “Please, daddy.”
Gator’s fully inside you, stopping as your words hit his ears.
Fuck.
“… What’d you call me?”
You can’t gauge his reaction, so you shake your head. “Nothin’.”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Face heating up with embarrassment, you repeat, “… Daddy.” You can’t look at him, so he grabs your chin, forcing you to.
“You want daddy to fuck the brat outta ya’?”
“Mhm,” You’re so overwhelmed with embarrassment but want him to keep going. “Please…”
Gator’s hand slides down to your throat, and you nod, giving permission for what he’s been teasing all night. His fingers stretch around your throat, gripping just enough in the right spots to play with your blood flow, picking back up where he left off and thrusting hard again.
Eyes rolling back, you moan, but it’s strangled as Gator’s hand tightens just a bit more. The sound of skin slapping echoes in the bathroom, filling the gaps between gasps and whimpers and words dripping with filth.
“Takin’ me so well… y’gonna let me fill this cunt?”
“Pleasepleaseplease!” You cry, feeling your high build, between his dirty talk, his grip on your throat, and his relentless pounding.
His grip on your throat loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely. His other hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing circles with just the right amount of pressure. It doesn’t take much for you to reach the edge, and with how you’re squeezing him, it won’t take him long, either.
“I- can I- is it—“
“Uh-huh,” Gator breathes, unable to find his own words as the two of you climax together. His head falls to lean against yours while his cock twitches inside you, releasing and filling you sinfully, while your walls grip him to the high heavens. A mess of whines and moans tangle between the two of you, hips thrusting sloppily as you both ride the high out together.
The dreamy daze of the comedown is broken through by the sound and sight of the bathtub’s water spilling over the edge and onto the tiled floor.
“Gator—“
“Gimme a second,” He’s trying to catch his breath, but you reach up to turn his head to the side, pointing over his shoulder. He forces himself out of his daze, pulling out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of one another, as he dives to the floor to shut the faucet off.
He curses under his breath, and it’s a comical sight to witness; he’s exasperated, resting himself against the tub, sweats pulled down partially while half soaked from the water, still half hard and covered in the mixed arousal of you both, strands of hair falling out of place from the usual pushed back style.
You watch everything, still on the sink, resting against the mirror as you’re still panting, core sore and dripping from the mess you both made. You can only imagine how disheveled you look as well.
Gator catches your eyes with his, and something sparks laughter between the two of you. Laughing at how ridiculous you both look, how the scene around you is anything but picture perfect, how weary but content you both appear.
“Guess I should clean up too,” Gator admits. “You gonna share the bath?”
You smirk, “Only if you admit I’m above your standards.”
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