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thecreelhouse · 4 months

Text

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: It’s been a full week since you and Gator came back into one another’s lives, unwillingly, before ending up snowed in together. Something’s changed enough in the last 7 days leaving you to wonder just how strong your feelings really are for him.

Word count: 8.4k+

CW/Tags: fluff, exploring feelings, language, discussions of harder/taboo kinks (knife and gun play is mentioned), super brief blood play, spit kink, somnophilia, sub!Gator/dom!reader, oral sex (m receiving), handjobs, femdom, brief self esteem/body issues with reader again, body neutrality/positivity, hurt/comfort, Roy Tillman being an absolute waste of space as usual

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: hey y’all!! please heed the content warnings before reading. It’s not incredibly insane and mainly discussing the rough stuff, but I just wanted to add the warnings of rougher kinks just to be safe!! Things are gonna ramp up from here on out, so get ready lmao. Thanks for all the support on this so far, and I hope y’all enjoy <3

Day 7

After catching up on much needed sleep, the rest of your sixth day snowed in with Gator was spent pretty much like the last few days; making up for lost time with updates on each others’ lives, and sex. …. A lot of sex.

Oh, and cleaning the air mattress, and all the blankets after Gator proudly made you squirt. Again.

By the next day, you could feel just how sore your entire body was from everything you and Gator had done since the tension broke. The pain is what wakes you up, and for once, you were up before Gator. He’s sound asleep, steady breaths and occasional soft snoring filling the silence in the room. You can’t take your eyes off of him, hoping to God he was actually asleep; you know it’s kind of weird, but he just looks so… peaceful.

Yeah, because he’s not running his mouth right now.

If you weren’t so attentive to him, you might’ve missed the quick whimper he makes in his sleep, stirring and adjusting himself. His hand subconsciously finds its way to his morning wood, still somehow fast asleep in the process.

Now you really can’t take your eyes off of him. A throaty groan pushes out from behind his lips as his hand unknowingly palms himself. It’s like this for a little bit, but then he moans your name, and you’re gone, just like that.

Yeah, maybe you’re too sore for sex, but that doesn’t mean you can’t play with him.

“… Gator?” You whisper, testing the waters. He gives no response before turning over, facing away from you, moving his hand away from his member in the process.

You let some time pass before he settles down, back into slow, steady breaths. He’s not making any noises now, nor is he squirming or touching himself. As quietly as possible, you shift closer to him, inch by inch, pausing every so often to make sure he’s still asleep. By the time you press against his back, spooning him, he’s still knocked out.

The outline of Gator’s back muscles are ever so slightly noticeable through his white sleep tee; you can’t help yourself, tracing softly along the details. From there, your eyes catch on some of the freckles on his neck, giving into an urge to kiss him softly on those spots. He stirs, but only for a moment, with a content sigh. You bite back a giggle, wondering if this is affecting whatever wet dream he was just having about you.

Your hands wander, tracing over his soft but muscular arms, still in awe at how he’s not the lanky, awkward boy you grew up with. One hand reaches over to the front of Gator, gently palming him. He stirs again, flexing his hips sleepily into your touch as his breathing picks up just a little.

Again, you check to make sure he’s not awake, whispering, “Gator?”

Nothing.

Sneakily, your fingers push past the waistband of his boxers, making contact with the soft, warm skin of his hard-on. Brushing past the tip, you feel precum stick to your fingers, and use that to slowly stroke him with a feather-light grip.

Gator bucks unexpectedly into your hand, and you have to bite back your own moan to keep quiet. He murmurs something incoherent, with your name to follow again. It sounds so sweet coming from him, while he’s unknowingly needy in his sleep. Without much warning, he rolls back over, and you’re quick to move and give him space, hand still on his cock.

Again, you wait for any sign of Gator waking up, but nothing happens. He just goes back to the relaxed state he was in moments ago. You take advantage of the calm before the storm, sliding under the comforter to carefully pull his length through the slit in his boxers. He sighs, but it ends there, so you dribble some spit quietly onto the head, mixing it with his precum with your hand to stroke him again.

Another sigh from Gator, another pause from you. He goes back to being quiet and still, so you begin jerking him softly again, leaning down to suck on his balls at the same time. A heavy breath shudders out of him, but you keep going, keeping things slow and soft. Every so often, obscene sucking noises come from your mouth’s suction on him, and little pleasured noises from him follow.

Gator moans your name again, hips bucking lazily, so you back off, softly kissing along his inner thigh, leaving a trail of spit behind as he calms down. Again, you wait, then go back to work, licking slowly up the underside of his cock, along the pulsating vein, signaling how needy he was without any awareness.

You softly suckle on his tip, humming as you taste him. The vibration of your noise causes him to whine, muttering something like, “Need you,” along with chanting your name a few times. It motivates you to keep going, taking your time as you push your mouth onto his length, hollowing your cheeks out as you feel him reach the back of your throat. You stay there for a moment, trying to suppress the gagging noise begging to escape as you choke on him.

His cock kicks in your mouth, and you have to pull yourself off before you start making louder sounds, but when you do, he whines even louder.

“Don’t stop,” He rasps out, beginning to pant as you start bobbing up and down on his length. “M’god… please don’t stop.”

You throw the covers off of you, checking if he woke up; Gator’s still sleeping, but you can tell he’s on the edge of consciousness by the way his hands grip at the sheets by his sides. He murmurs something quickly about wanting to touch you, pleading if you’d let him. You don’t answer, you just keep sucking him off, humming around him again.

Then Gator says something that throws you off; “Darlin’… please... Untie me… wanna touch ya’…”

You glance at his hands, knowing you never restrained him, but you can’t help groaning on his cock while you watch his fists ball up, frustrated he can’t touch you in his dream. The thought sends blood pumping straight to your core, heat blooming throughout your body. At first, you don’t realize you’ve straddled one of his legs, grinding lazily on him as you deepthroat him, too. Not really even to get off yourself, just needy for some kind of friction. His leg tenses up, causing you to yelp, muffled by his cock in your mouth.

That’s when Gator’s eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as he looks down at the sight in front of him, lifting his head to get a better view. It takes a bit for him to escape the sleepy fog his brain’s in, but when it clears, he finally realizes what’s going on.

“Oh… oh, fuck…” His head falls back onto his pillow, hands reaching up to his face to desperately rub the sleep out of his eyes before looking back at you while you still keep a steady pace on his length with your mouth. You pull off slowly, keeping eye contact as a string of spit drags out from your lips, still attached to the head of his cock.

“Untie you, huh?” You tease before your hand takes over on him, mouth sucking on his balls again. Gator’s eyes cross before rolling back in his head, hips bucking into your firm grip.

“Is- huh? I’m not…” He can’t form a coherent thought, whether that’s from waking up or the pleasure that woke him up, you’re not sure. “You didn’t tie me…”

Your mouth makes a filthy suction sound as you release from his skin, hand stroking him faster. “No, but I kinda wish I did after you moaned about it in your sleep.”

His face goes red with eyes going wide. “Fuck… do I sleep talk? Christ… the fuck did I say?”

You shrug casually before stuffing your mouth again with his throbbing cock, and while it pains him to do so, he grabs your hair, pulling you off of him.

“Tell me what I said,” He demands, but it sounds more pathetic and needy than authoritative. You let spit spill out of your lips and onto his cock, watching it kick on contact as he muffles a groan, biting his lip.

“Gator, you’ll let me go if you wanna finish.” You threaten, quirking a brow with a smirk. His eyes narrow at you, wanting to question you further, but he stays silent, loosening his grip on your hair. “Good boy.”

Those two words drive Gator insane; he grabs your head again, but this time he pushes you back onto his cock, shoving it all the way to the back of your throat as he moans loudly. The way your throat gags and constricts around him makes his eyes roll back. His hips are twitching as he spills his seed into your mouth without much warning. He’s bucking into your mouth sloppily, shoving your face to the hilt. You groan around him, letting the liquid fill your mouth as he rides out his high.

Panting hard, Gator lets go of your head and watches you pull off, his arousal seeping from your lips before you swallow, sticking your tongue out with a smile to show you finished your work.

“Mother’f fuckin’ god….”

“G’mornin’ to you too, sunshine. Didn’t think you’d finish that fast.” You crawl up to him before wrapping yourself around him without thinking, laying on top for a moment, but then you worry you’re going to hurt him, so you begin to move. Gator grabs you and holds you in place.

“Whoever made you feel bad for bein’ on top for anythin’ is a fuckin’ asshole.” He murmurs while his hands wrap around you in return, hugging you close to him. You can feel his heartbeat pumping wildly through his chest. “M’not kidding, gimme names, babe.”

You laugh before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t laugh, though.

“Darlin’, you know you’re beautiful, yeah?”

“Pfffftt. Quit bein’ so sweet just ‘cause I swallowed.” You tease, but again, Gator doesn’t laugh. So you pull back, sitting up a bit to get a better look at his face, gauging his reaction, but can’t quite read him. “Gator?”

“I mean it.” He’s serious, but not stern, or angry. Just sincere. “If I ever said anything—“

“Oh, Gator, no, it’s totally okay. It’s not you…. I mean, I remember your shitty friends teasing me about my hips and stuff in high school, but like… people are just shitty at that age.”

Gator’s expression softens, like a puppy that’s been kicked; he reaches up to your face, and you lean into his palm, eyes closing with a small smile as you feel comfort from his touch.

“M’sorry I didn’t stop them.” His eyes search yours, realizing the hurt you’re covering up.

“It wasn’t just that. Seriously, it’s okay Gator.” You try reassuring him, your own grasp holding over his hand on your cheek. “It took a bit for me to find people I trusted when I moved. I ran into some… not so kind people when I first started dating out there. Obviously the whole ‘Midwest Kindness’ ain’t a thing on the East Coast, but I quickly learned why most folks in the city are easily pissed off; you’d be too if some group of tourists blocked the same sidewalk you’re speed walking down to get to the subway on time for work.” You’re again, making light of things, but all Gator does is give a short laugh.

“But really, aside from that,” You’re elaborating on what he really wants to hear, “some people are just garbage wherever they’re from or wherever they go. Had a couple underwhelming dates that wasted my time. One dude was a real jerk-off”

Gator, while looking puzzled, smirks at the way ‘jerk-off’ sounds with the hint of your stubborn Midwest accent that refuses to die. “Not like you to put up with that shit.” He’s not blaming you for someone else’s shit attitude, just surprised some asshole thought he had the right to ever give you shit.

But then again, he was also an asshole to you for years. Maybe it’s not his place to judge someone else when he’s no better.

“Don’t worry, I kicked his ass to the curb immediately.” You smirk.

“That’s my girl.” Gator praises, chuckling. You roll your eyes playfully.

“Dude couldn’t even find my clit. We literally have the internet at our fingertips, porn available 24/7, but the fucker couldn’t be bothered to learn how to rub one out properly.”

“Now that’s just embarrassin’.” Gator’s smug now, “Meanwhile, some motherfucker from the Midwest made you squirt twice.”

“Gator, if you don’t shut the fuck up—“

“Gimme somethin’ to put in my mouth and I’ll shut up.” He’s grinning like the smug son of a bitch he knows he is.

You tense up, legs wanting to automatically press together as your cunt throbs over his corny innuendo.

“Felt that.”

“I just woke you up with a blowjob, try to be a lil’ more humble.”

“Never,” Gator taunts, sitting up to kiss you softly while you’re still on his lap. He pulls back, looking at you with a smirk. “What do ya’ wanna do today?”

Another eye roll comes from you. “What else is there to do? Pretty sure we’ve run out of ideas since being snowed in.”

Gator thinks for a moment before shooting a mischievous look your way.

“Oh, no. I don’t like that look.” You laugh, shaking your head while you push off of him, but Gator holds you on his lap firmly.

“You’ve seen my porn searches, you should show me yours.”

Another laugh echoes from you. “Gator, I use incognito mode, like a smart, responsible adult.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He’s reaching for your phone on the nightstand, shoving it into your hands. “Just show me what you’re into already.”

———

“You said we didn’t have anything in common,” Gator scoffs, scrolling through the playlist you made on one of the many porn sites under a hidden account. You have to hold back a laugh, watching him with a confused and bitter expression while holding your obnoxiously glitter-smothered phone case, bedazzled with a sparkly pop socket. The contrast is funnier than it should be.

“I might’ve lied a lil’.”

You’re sitting up against the wall on his bed, with a cozy hill of pillows behind you, while Gator lays back on you as he sits between your legs. His head rests on your stomach while he continues scrolling down, stopping occasionally at thumbnails of certain videos, murmuring under his breath a couple times with some profanities, or groans, sexually frustrated and overwhelmed viewing what gets you off.

Gator tilts his head back to look up at you, but his head is practically right under your tits, so that’s all he sees, and snickers. You’d consider it immature, but you’re just as amused as Gator is.

“Oh, my bad,” You comically lift your breasts with your hands, leaning over him to see his face. “These things just get in the way sometimes. Need somethin’?”

Gator suppresses laughter, pointing at your phone screen. “You really like some heavy, rough shit, huh?”

You shrug, teasingly as you let go of your chest, hitting him in the head softly.

“God, I could die happy here,” Gator jokes as he dramatically snuggles back into you, enjoying the way your legs wrap around him, too.

Passing his comment by, you answer his previous curiosity, “Depends on a lot. The situation, if I feel safe, if my partner feels comfortable and safe, too. Where we are, or what toys we have, ‘cause some you can’t just substitute with every day items, y’know?”

Sitting up further, he slots the back of his head in the valley of your breasts, like it’s completely normal. You, on the other hand, find it silly, laughter picking back up.

“What? I’m comfy!” Gator defends himself. “But no. I actually don’t know about that. What do you mean?”

“Well, like, I guess it all narrows down to personal preference and consent, but, for example, you wouldn’t use a regular candle for wax play.”

Gator turns his head, looking over his shoulder at you, brows raised in surprise. “You don’t?”

“Nope, candles made specifically for wax play burn at a lower temperature, and don’t have scents and oils that would irritate skin for some people. Usually soy wax.” You’re kind of enjoying talking about kinks like this. Nothing bad about talking about them during sex, but the two of you got easily distracted several times trying to multitask. Gator’s honestly curious, and the way he’s clueless on at least half of these things in kink has your stomach fluttering from his rare innocence.

Oh, jesus fuckin’ christ, don’t tell me this is a new kink, too.

Gator breaks your internal self scolding with an “ohhhhh, gotcha’.” He swipes up on the screen, stopping on a knife play video, audibly gulping. “So you… you’ve never tried this? You said you didn’t trust anyone enough?”

You shake your head before pressing a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, leaning over his shoulder to look at what has him tense. His hand white knuckles your phone, staring at a thumbnail of masked man balls deep in a woman tied up. He’s got a knife in hand, holding it up, but not against, the woman’s throat.

Distractedly, you lick your lips; Gator notices the action in the corner of his eye. “I- yeah. I mean, fuck, man. Like… I definitely couldn’t ever be the dom in these kind of scenes. Makes me nervous. I don’t even trust myself.”

Gator’s intrigued. “Really? Why not?”

“I dunno… kinda like the riskier kinks more in theory than in practice. But I also like them enough to at least try once. I just haven’t fucked around with anyone I felt totally safe enough to try that. Or gunplay.”

That last bit slips out; you bite your lip, hand slapping over your mouth. You’re looking anywhere else other than Gator’s face as he processes those few words, but you feel him adjust and turn around fully to get a better look at you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wanted to take that one to my goddamn grave.

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he breathes lowly. “You. Of all people. You like gunplay?! You hate guns.” His mouth feels dry and sticky as he dares to ask, “… You ever try that yet?”

‘Yet’. Sweet mother of—

With shallow breaths, you finally reconnect your gaze onto his; Gator’s feelings and thoughts written all over his face. He’s honestly horrified at first, then worried, and not understanding why anyone would find pleasure in something so dangerous, but the more he thought of it, the more it grew on him.

“I still hate ‘em, but there’s just… somethin’…” You trail off as you answer bashfully before slowly shaking your head. “And n- not yet….. you?”

Neither of you realize his hand is on your leg until he’s gripping it like a vise. He forces a throaty cough as he loosens his grasp on you.

“Me ‘neither… never really thought about it till right now, though…” Gator’s voice wanders as his words come out, sounding dazed with lust. “Wh- what do you… what’s it supposed to be like?”

With a shrug, you answer cautiously, “I think it differs from person to person. I guess that’s the case with any fetish… but the thing about gunplay that turns me on is, uh, well…”

He anxiously waits for your finished thought, watching you intently. You nervously chew your lip. “It’s okay, darlin’, you can tell me.” His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering for a bit.

“You promise you won’t judge me?”

Gator sticks out his pinky, like he did the night the two of you got drunk when the storm started. “I promise.”

Hesitantly, you link your pinky around his, and he grips it firmly with his own before releasing. You nod, taking a few breaths to calm down; this was one of those things you kept to yourself, knowing how insane it sounds.

“Um… it’s… okay, I know it’s bad, but the thought of being made to suck a handgun off while someone watches, enjoying how scared I am… it’s so hot. I wish I didn’t think it was.” You’re ashamed as the words leave your mouth, your entire body burning up with embarrassment. You can’t bring yourself to look at Gator, missing the way his jaw drops over your confession. “I think it’s like, hand in hand with the whole CNC kink. At least for me, it is.”

Gator is speechless. His breath hitches, and never releases, looking absolutely broken on the outside. When you finally look at him, your heart drops, regret flooding your body after sharing all of that.

“You good? Fuck. I’m sorry, I shoulda’ kept it to mys—“

“Fuckin’ hell…”

“You said you wouldn’t judge me,” You frown, feeling more shame for sharing your dirty secrets.

Gator shakes his head quickly. “No, no, m’not. I promise. It’s just… really confusin’ that I find it… hot?”

Your frown dissolves as a small, devilish smile plays up on your features. “I like corrupting you, Gator.”

“Don’t take all the credit, freak.” He scoffs with an eye roll, but runs his hands through your hair softly before holding the back of your head with a light, soothing touch. “Aren’t ya’ scared of getting hurt?” His attention is on your well being more than anything.

“I mean… yeah, but I think it’s part of the thrill for me. If it’s with someone I trust, and we’re both consenting in a controlled scene, then I’m into it. I think that kinda goes for everything I like.”

Gator can’t help asking, “You trust me?”

“Gator…”

“You can say no, you can be honest, it’s okay.” He reassures softly, pulling you towards him before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I won’t be offended. Promise.”

You chew on your lip again before answering, “Honestly? I don’t trust anyone, even myself, dom or sub, I think it’s mostly a thing I like in theory. Would I try it with someone I trusted if given the chance? Probably. Do I trust you? Right now? Mostly. Not with anything risky like this, or knife play… but it’s not personal. Just something I really, really want to be sure I do with the right person if ever.”

Gator nods while his grip slides to your hips, beginning to understand you’ve thought this over carefully, too. “Just promise me somethin’?”

“What is it?”

“If this,” he motions between the two of you, “doesn’t last, if ya’ do it with anyone else, be safe. Okay?”

You catch yourself thinking, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else but you. You push the thought away, but Gator notices the way your brows scrunch together.

“What’s up?” He asks, but you duck your head onto his shoulder, not responding as you groan, nervous. He shrugs his shoulders to get you back up, but you don’t move. “Talk to me, darlin’.”

You sit up but can’t look him in the eye, murmuring words into a jumbled mess, “Idon’twantittobewithanyoneelse.”

Gator chuckles, “What was that?” He slips two fingers under your chin, directing your gaze to his gently. “One more time for me.”

Your skin feels like it’s on fire and shivering all at once. “You keep mentioning ‘if things last’… are you trying to say something else?”

“What do you— oh. Oh. No, darlin’. M’sorry if I worded it wrong.” He’s earnest in his tone, giving soft, sweet eyes with a warm gaze. “I just— I didn’t want to assume anything would be more outside of this whole snowed in together thing, that’s all. I don’t wanna tie ya’ down, m’sure ya’ still wanna enjoy yourself when you go back home.”

‘When you go back home.’

You’re baffled by his words. “What makes you think that?”

Gator laughs, but it’s void of much if any humor at all. “‘C’mon, you’ve been having the time of your life out there. I can’t compare to the guys you’ve dated in the city…. ‘Cept that one dude that couldn’t find your clit. He’s got nothin’ on me.” You can tell he’s trying to joke it off, but it’s obvious how the thought of you finding better so easily hurts him.

In the past week, you went from hating one another, to keeping things cordial, to amping up tension you hadn’t even noticed until moments before you touched one another, to fucking each others’ brains out, and now… this.

Nothing’s been labeled. There’s no declaration of any certain feelings, but they’re still there, for the both of you. The sexual tension broke days ago, but there’s still some kind of… romantic tension, hanging heavy in between and over the both of you.

It’s a tension neither of you are certain of how to break, or even address at all.

Sighing, you speak before you can fully think, “Gator… I said I like you. I have feelings for you, y’know.”

Making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, he nods. “I know. I like you too, y’know.”

You so badly want to open up further into your feelings for him, tell him how much you love—

No. No no no no no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re just infatuated for the moment. Nothing more. Just strong, intense feelings that—

“Fuck.” You don’t mean to say that out loud, but you do, and Gator’s smile fades. “Can we… figure this out maybe tomorrow? Or something? I like you, Gator. I really do, despite all the fuckin’ odds and times I wanted to fight you— wait. How are your knees doing?”

That makes Gator actually laugh, “You still get sidetracked easily. Some things don’t change, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“S’cute, always was.”

“Gator.”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine, look,” Gator awkwardly maneuvers to slide his pants down past his knees. He stopped using bandages; the cuts were mostly healed and faded reds and pinks. “They’re actually healin’ a lot faster than I expected.”

“Huh, wonder why that is.” You tease as you run your fingers over the healing cuts, now turning into little speckled scars, and Gator playfully pushes your hand away before he shrugs, kicking his pants off fully.

“Not sure, I think it had somethin’ to do with the angel that wanted to kick my ass but helped me instead.”

“Yeah, you’re right, the guys in the city ain’t like you at all. You’re the corniest man in the world.” You giggle, eyes rolling.

Gator rolls his eyes in return, before tackling you in a hug, pushing you back into the pillows, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“I’ll gladly wear that title with pride if those corny lines still make you smile.” He shoves his face into your neck, blowing raspberries against your skin, earning louder giggles from you.

“Gator! Enough!” You try scolding him, but can’t hold in the laughter.

This. This is what you want. Soft, sweet moments with someone you care for, someone who knows you, in between sex beyond your wildest dreams. What you’ve always wanted, with anyone, but especially with Gator. Just accept it already.

Gator pulls back as he hovers over you, eyes searching yours for a moment. “Alright, alright. I’m done.”

You cover your neck with your hands, laughing nervously as you anticipate more of his nonsense. “You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Promise?”

Gator goes back to tickling your skin, blowing raspberries again along your neck where your hands aren’t covering.

“That’s it, you’re goin’ to jail, bud.” You tease between laughs while he tugs your hands off your neck. “There’s definitely a law against this.”

“Can’t arrest me, I am the law.” He teases in between his actions.

“You are not,” You argue, laughing involuntarily as he continues. “Gator, you’re askin’ for a fight!”

“Yeah, sure sounds like it.” He stops, only to replace his actions with a gentle bite to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden change. “What? No protestin’ now?”

You don’t answer as he nips at you again, earning your breathy gasps while he makes his way up to your jawline, love bites turning into soft kisses.

“Huh, why the sudden change, darlin’?” He reaches the corner of your lips, kissing again, but when you turn your head to kiss him back, he pulls away, again, flashing his smug grin.

“Gator, quit bein’ a tease.” You pout.

He’s about to quip back, but his phone goes off, triggering annoyed groans from both of you. Sitting up as he straddles you, he grabs it and answers, immediately wincing as his dad’s voice shrills through the other end.

“Yeah, the snow’s been bad here, too.” He’s beyond annoyed, and you can tell. He’s been growing more and more fed up over time with Roy, especially in the past week alone. “What? Shovel the entire— are you fuckin’—“

Roy’s shouting something about how disrespectful it is to cuss at your own father, and Gator rolls his eyes. You catch the tail end of his scolding, hearing, “Wouldn’t kill ya’ to be useful, for once.”

To say that angers you is simply an understatement. It’s taking everything within you to not grab Gator’s phone, and scream at his father for all the damage he’s done to his son.

Hell hath no fury like a woman enraged.

Gator can tell you’re ready to snap, and he shakes his head, mouthing, “Don’t. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay, though. It never was. It never will be. What did either of you deserve to have such terrible, manipulative, abusive fathers?

“Yeah. I’m listening.” Gator reluctantly answers, eyes falling shut while he sighs out his anger. “You can’t get one of your guys to bring a plow over? Y’know I can’t get the entire driveway cleared before y’all get back.”

You go to reach for the phone, but Gator leans back further from you, again mouthing “Don’t. Please.” He looks… scared. It pains you to see him so stressed and tortured just simply trying to appease his father’s bullshit. You lean back and nod, and Gator reaches back for your hand, giving a gentle squeeze as a ‘thank you’.

“I ain’t makin’ her do that, that’s not why she flew home, y’know. She didn’t even get to spend Christmas with her parents, because you—“

Gator stops himself, knowing the consequences of his words for either of you wouldn’t be worth it. The yelling continues, and all Gator can do is just take it until Roy’s done with his grown-ass temper tantrum.

Your anger bubbles inside you, ready to spill over, but you’re trying your hardest to keep calm. Gator can fight his own battles, but you know he’s always felt like it was better to let his dad just take things out on him, like an emotional punching bag. It’s hard just letting this slide when all you want to do is take care of Gator.

If you can’t stand up for him, you can at least give him a justified distraction.

Letting go of his hand, you slide your hands down your own body before reaching between his open legs, lightly dragging a finger around his length, still covered in his boxers. Gator looks down at you, covering the phone’s speaker before hissing, “What are you doing?!”

You only smile sweetly in return, flashing false innocence. His eyes narrow as he glares down at you, until you palm him, and he has to bite down hard onto his bottom lip to hold any noise back. A trickle of blood bubbles up from the self-inflicted wound, staining his bottom lip. With his free hand, he grabs both of your wrists together in a firm grasp, jaw set as he grits his teeth, shooting daggers with his stare.

“Yeah. Fine. We’ll shovel the fuckin’ driveway.” Gator’s desperate to end the call because he thinks you’re being a major brat, as usual. Your face falls; you just want him to feel good. He notices the way your attitude shifts, and rushes his dad off the phone. “I gotta go, since you want this damn driveway cleared by hand.”

Roy continues yelling on the other end, but Gator hangs up before tossing the phone aside. His grip loosens along with his jaw, bringing your wrists to his lips, kissing both of them gently. “Fuck, m’sorry baby. Are y’okay?”

Your voice is soft, not scared, but concerned you upset him further. “I’m okay, I’m sorry for touchin’ ya’, I just wanted to help you feel better. Wasn’t tryin’ to brat out this time, I swear.”

Gator pulls you to sit up and hug you tight. “I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

“It’s okay, you had every right to think I was pullin’ some shit, like the first time it happened.” You’re referring to the day the two of you finally broke the tension, and how it was kicked off by you grinding on Gator’s lap as he spoke to his father on the phone. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”

“No apologizin’, I was just overwhelmed, but it doesn’t excuse me bein’ angry.”

“It was kinda hot, though. M’sorry about your lip.” You pull back to look at him, make sure he’s alright.

“Huh?” He touches his lip, fingers pulling away with sticky blood. “Shit, I didn’t even realize.” Gator huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “What were you tryin’ to do anyway?”

Without a second thought, you grab his hand, slipping his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the blood on his skin. You’ve got a look that seems innocent enough on the surface, but by now, Gator knows better with you. His jaw drops a bit while watching you, feeling the warmth and softness of your mouth, noticing the little bit of red tinted spit that dribbles from your bottom lip, onto your shirt.

“We’re- we can wash that later,” Gator murmurs, unable to respond properly to what you’re doing to him while mentally losing it over your actions. You nod and hum around his fingers before pulling them out, now blood free.

“M’kay. Can I make you feel better? Or try?”

He nods quickly, “Yeah, please. If you still wanna—“

“Get up, baby.” You order, but it’s not harsh. As Gator moves, you settle back into the pillows against the wall, holding your arms out for him. As he moves to lean forward, you hold him back by extending your arms, pushing back on his shoulders with your hands. “No, turn around. Like before.”

So, he does that, and settles back against your body, watching the way you wrap your legs around his, lazily pinning them to the bed.

“Gator?” You kiss his neck while your hands splay out onto the tops of his thighs, caressing up and down as far as your arms let you. He shivers under your touch.

“M’yeah?”

“Is it okay if I cuff you this time?”

He chokes on air before nodding wildly. His voice cracks with desperation as he answers “Please. Please.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” He breathes out, willingly placing his arms behind him with ease. “They’re on the f- frame behind you.”

You’re surprised he’s so eager, but you’re not complaining. Reaching through the pillows, your hands hit the cold metal, pulling them off with ease; he kept them unlocked since the last time he used them on you. Your touch is softer than his was when he cuffed you, and you snap them closed loosely, afraid to hurt him.

“Tighter.”

“You sure?”

Gator looks back at you as best as he can, nodding. So you push the metal into the cuffs further, but it’s not enough. He shakes his head, needily asking, “More?”

“Honey, I don’t wanna hurt ya’.” You murmur, kissing his shoulder. He shudders at the combination of your words and touch.

“You won’t. Even if ya’ did, I’d love it. Promise.”

Hesitating, you breathe deeply before giving two more clicks, leaving the cuffs snug on his wrists. “That okay?”

Gator whines, nodding as his wrists move, testing the handcuffs. The metal clinks but doesn’t budge.

Hooking your arms through and under his, you pull him back towards you, as closely as possible. As you pull his boxers down, you ask “If anything’s too much, you promise you’ll tell me to stop?”

“Promise, darlin’“ He rasps while you hold out your hand in front of his face, palm up. Before you can ask, he takes the hint, spitting into your hand.

“You catch on fast.” You praise lowly, spit-covered hand on his half-hard length, softly stroking the liquid up and down the entirety of him. “Good boy.” His cock twitches in your hand. “You like being praised too?”

Gator bites his lip, opening the wound back up right after blood dried over it. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, baby, don’t hurt yourself again.” Your free hand reaches up to his lips, trying to wipe the blood off, but Gator leans forward, sucking your fingers into his mouth, triggering a pleased, relieved groan from him, and a whimper from you. Pulling them out, you drag your blood-tinged-spit-covered fingers down the front of his neck before stopping, hand ghosting around his throat.

Leaning into your grasp, Gator moans while your hand still strokes him at an agonizingly slow pace. “Please?” He sounds so needy and pathetic, and it makes your heart flutter.

Hand closing around his throat with the slightest bit of pressure, his eyes flutter shut while his head lolls back onto your shoulder. He’s panting already, bucking into your hand on his cock; your legs spread his apart and pin him down tighter, keeping him still.

Precum begins leaking from his tip, so you spread it onto his length in the next round of strokes.

“This is what I wanted to do, baby.” You let go of his throat, hand traveling under his shirt to just caress any part of him you can get your touch on. “Just make you feel good.” You purr at the shell of his ear, causing him to shiver and arch his back, flexing himself into your grip further. “I’d love to do this and edge you next time. Would you let me do that to you?”

A strangled gasp echoes through the room. “N- now?”

“No—“

“Now. Please. Please, now. Right now?”

You weren’t expecting him to beg, ever.

“M’not gon’ last long if ya’ don’t.” He strains out, bucking his hips into your fist again. As his back arches again, his hands brush against your core; Gator gives a satisfied hum, feeling how soaked you are. You gasp as the wind’s knocked out of you from just a simple manipulation from his restrained hands.

“Who did this to you?” Gator’s smug at first, until your hand slaps over his mouth, shutting him up fast.

You don’t answer him, just stroke him faster. There’s a sickeningly erotic sound of the mixture of your saliva and his precum on skin; it’s saturating both his cock and your hand, making him writhe and moan.

“Who did this to you?” Your tone is sweet like sugar but your attitude is wicked. Gator clearly can’t answer with your hand blocking his mouth, but he tries to speak anyway. “Baby, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that. Maybe try again, yeah?”

Gator foolishly does try responding again, but once more, his shuddering, needy voice is muffled. His eyes nearly cross when you slow your heavy petting down; he’s jerking his hips, trying to regain friction and pace again, but you slow to a stop.

“I’m sorry, I thought you asked me to edge you.” The kinder your voice is, the more your words and their intent drip with venom. Gator’s face is flushed red under your palm, pent up energy and sexual frustration getting to him. “That is what you asked for, right?”

Your hand stays in place, and all Gator can do is huff through his nose, glowering at you.

“I dunno, babe, you might be more of a brat than me.”

He bites your hand, and you yelp, reeling back.

“Fuck. Fuck. Is this how you feel when I’m in control?” His chest heaves as he catches his breath, still wound up from the unfinished handjob. You begin to worry you’ve done too much.

“Gator, we can stop. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I hurt you at all or upset—“

“I’m fuckin’ pissed…” His words make you wince with guilt until he finishes his thought. “… but fuck, I love it. Is that bad?”

You’re shocked, and honestly confused. “Are you asking if I ever feel frustrated like this when you’re the dom? Fuck. All the time, but it gets me so wet for you. The morning you stopped eating me out to fuck me had me infuriated, but you know how good it felt for us both. Feelin’ that isn’t bad at all, as long as it’s consensual.”

It’s almost laughable, how you’re breaking these feelings down when he’s probably ready to break out of these cuffs if it means he’ll cum faster.

Gator nods breathlessly, turning his head as much as possible to look at you. His lips are swollen with dried blood speckling the bottom one, while his face is still red, eyes darting from your own, to your lips, fixated on both. “M’all yours, darlin’.”

“Yeah? You’re mine?”

He nods while licking his lips. “Kiss me.” He’s begging, not ordering. Not like he’s in charge, anyway.

Your hand softly winds through his hair, and his eyes flutter shut, but he grunts as you pull on his hair roughly.

“Earn it.”

Gator grunts again when your fingers wind tighter within the strands of his hair.

“Open your mouth.” You’re not playing nice anymore. Gator obeys as you tug his head back, spitting into his mouth. He gags but a gravelly groan follows. “Swallow.” Again, Gator listens, so you praise him, “Good boy.”

His cock is still painfully hard, leaking and red with need without your touch.

“Need you,” Gator rasps, trying to struggle against you to get you to make a move. Your hand slithers behind his back, hooking around his arms, still restrained behind him. Your grip tightens, and it causes him to cry out.

“You always need me, babe.” You spit into your free hand, returning to his length to finish what you started. A weak breath shudders out of him as you guide your spit and his precum along his cock. “You always have. Always will. Won’t you?”

“Mhm…” His panting picks back up, along with his hips snapping upward, fucking your hand sloppily. “Feels s’good.” He tries to touch you from behind again, but your grip holds him in place, and he whines. “Wanna touch you too.”

“Next time, honey.” You’re grabbing his balls roughly, then massaging them; the pain and pleasure clouds Gator’s mind. “Look at you, so fucking drunk on just my hand fucking around with you. You’re so fucking easy, Gator.”

“I- I am,” He gasps, groaning in disappointment as your hand leaves, but he bites his lip as you move back to his cock.

“Doesn’t take much to get you hard, huh? But you sure love thinking filthy thoughts.” You’re taunting him, jerking his cock as he tries to writhe, still held down by your legs. “You said we like the same things, but it turns out you were so much more innocent than me. Turns out it’s so fucking easy to corrupt guys like you that like to play pretend; you’re not as tough as you try to seem. You’re falling apart from my fucking hand, babe.”

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” Gator’s consumed by the pleasure, with the degradation dragging him deeper into his own version of sub-space. “Just want you to ruin me, I need you to ruin me.”

“Oh, honey, I know. I know you’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?”

“Y- fuckfuckfuck— yes!” His eyes are clamped shut as your grip speeds up.

“How long have you waited for this?”

“Sin- since— god, please—“ Gator’s so fucked up, so, so very fucked up on the way you’ve got control over him right now. “Before y’moved away. Thought ‘bout you every day for months after watchin’ ya’ leave.”

“What did you think about when you jerked off? What did you fantasize about with me?” Your voice is demanding, and he’s in the palm of your hand— literally— willing to answer anything at this point. Except, he takes a pause, and your hand releases his length; Gator cries out, pained by the loss of your touch. “Answer me.”

“I- I-“ He’s so fucked out, unable to think straight. You laugh at how overwhelmed he is, and it causes his cock to kick with desperation. “This. With you. Switchin’ with you. Makin’ you scream n’ squirt— god, please fuckin’ touch me!”

Your hand hovers over his cock, warmth radiating onto him, but not close enough to feel your touch.

“Keep talkin’, Tillman.” Your fingers teasingly flex above him.

“Never thought ‘bout half the things we did so far, everythin’ I thought of with you wasn’t nearly as- as—“ Chest heaving as his panting becomes shallow, he’s leaning back onto your shoulder, desperate for your attention. “Please, please touch me. M’gonna fuckin’ lose it, darlin’. I wanna do everythin’ with you. I trust ya’ more than anyone.”

“Yeah, I know.” You answer simply with a devilish smile. He grunts, absolutely beyond frustrated, trying to snap his hips into your palm, but your legs keep him in place. “Y’gonna be good for me?”

“Always, I- I- can be so good f’you,” Gator’s practically babbling at this point, ready to scream if you don’t touch him. “Please?”

You’re basking in the glow of this control over him, loving how easy he is to please, how easy he is to ruin. But, you did start this to distract him and make him feel better, so you know you have to end this soon on a high note for him.

You grab him again and begin stroking at the pace you left off. He sighs in relief, melting into you.

“You’re mine, yeah? All mine?” You’ve never sounded so possessive over someone before, but it’s only turning you on more.

“Yeah, yes, m’all yours baby.” He’s nearly drooling on himself as his cock throbs in your hand; he’s close to his high, losing himself in the feeling while his eyes roll back in his head. “I’m yours, I’m—“ A strangled groan cuts him off.

“Y’wanna know somethin’, Gator?” You’re talking softly, before moving to his ear to whisper, “I’m all yours, too. Ain’t no one takin’ that from ya’.”

It’s unexpected, but that is what sets him off, that’s what triggers his climax. His body shakes as he cries out, sounding so damn relieved to finally reach this point. He’s moaning your name, moaning profanities, grunting as he cums all over your hand, all over himself. “Babybabybaby—“

And with that, Gator’s gone. He’s on another fucking planet, spilling himself everywhere, body tensing and trembling as the pleasure strikes through his entire being. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he rides it all out, slinking down against you, resting limp like an old doll on your tummy as the moment of ecstasy fades away into exhaustion.

“Gator, babe, lemme get these off of ya’.” You’re gently pushing him forward, and he groans weakly; you reach for the keys on the nightstand, unlocking the cuffs as fast as you can so he can rest. When you free his hands, he doesn’t move them at first, so you move them around to the front for him. “C’mere, honey.”

You’ve got no clue how the sickeningly sweet pet names continue growing between the two of you, but you’re not mad about it. Not at all.

Gator can’t bring himself to move, so you gently maneuver yourself, slipping off the bed as you lay him back on the pillows. “Gimme a second, ��kay?” You disappear for a few moments before returning with a towel for him, and begin cleaning him off, keeping your touch gentle and light as best as you can.

With heavy lids and heavy breaths, he watches you reach his cock, taking him into your mouth fully to clean him off. He shouts at the overstimulation, so you keep it quick, licking your lips as you shoot an apologetic smile. He uses the last of his energy to sit up shakily, grabbing you and pulling you close; he’s kissing you in his usual clumsy, yet soft way he always does.

When he pulls back with a dopey, spaced out smile, you speak your mind, “I meant what I said, Gator. I’m all yours. No one, not here, not in New York, can change that.”

All he can reply back with is, “Same,” before falling back onto the pillows, pulling you down with him. Laughing, you fall onto him, and he pulls you on top fully. You don’t second guess it, you don’t fight it, not this time. Your head rests on his chest, where you can hear his wild heartbeat attempt to settle down.

You’re kissing him all over, softly, slowly, praising him in whispers. “You were so, so good, Gator.”

He’s so out of it, almost looking stoned, when he grins at you. “Yeah?” You’re giggling at how zoned out he is. “Thank ya’ for the distraction. Helped lots.”

“Yeah.” You answer, feeling him relax and meld into the mattress, “Always here for you, Gator ”. You’re also feeling exhausted, ready to sleep this off with him. “Even if it’s just for a handjob.” You joke, earning a pinch in your side from him at that before he kisses your cheek.

Before he succumbs to rest, though, he’s mumbling into your neck, “Tomorrow I’m teachin’ ya’ about gun safety.” He pats your shoulder sleepily; he’s serious, but you snort at the way that this is what he’s thinking about after everything that just happened.

“We’re not shoveling the entire driveway?”

“Fuck no, he can fuck off. I ain’t makin’ ya’ shovel the snow. He’s a fuckin’ jerk-off.” You notice your lovely East Coast vocabulary is growing on him.

“Okay, Gator.” You’re stifling more laughter, but he’s laughing too, delirious from wearing himself out with you. “We can worry about that tomorrow. You definitely need a nap now or somethin’.”

Gator doesn’t respond, only soft snores answer back as he keeps cuddling with you on top, lulling you to sleep with him

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman smut #fargo #my fics #part time soulmate full time problem #i know i said like two hours ago id post tomorrow but whoops couldn’t help myself

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