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mrprettywhenhecries · 2 months

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don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

08. | Like Jack and Sally

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 6.4k words ⇾ tags/warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, misogynistic themes, alcohol use, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), canon typical violence/blood, accusations of cheating, Gator’s kind of a dick ⇾ a/n. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

When Roy throws a wrench in Win’s Halloween plans, needing Gator to do a job for him, her temper gets the better of her and a misunderstanding nearly tears them apart.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

Gator had just stepped out of the Spirit Halloween at the old K-mart building when his phone went off. Thinking it was Win calling to ask if he’d gotten his costume for the party yet, he pulled his phone from his pocket to answer, his grin faltering when he saw his father’s name flash across the screen instead.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked, bracing himself, a bad feeling churning in his stomach.

“Got a job for you. Meet me at Hammurabi’s in twenty minutes for the details.”

Before Gator could protest, Roy had already hung up, leaving Gator standing in the parking lot twisting in the wind.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, pocketing his phone with more force than necessary and striding stiffly to his cruiser. If Roy wouldn’t tell him the job over the phone, it had to be something serious.

Roy’s truck was already parked out front when Gator arrived, and he followed suit when his father climbed out and ambled over, meeting Gator halfway.

“So I was thinkin’ about what to do with Nadine,” Roy said, stepping in close and pitching his voice low, and Gator frowned in confusion for a moment.

“I told ya, she goes by, uh, Dorothy now,” he said, but Roy brushed the detail aside.

“Yeah. At first I was thinkin’ we’d leave her alone until after the election.”

“But…?” Gator prompted, sensing there was more his father wasn’t saying.

“Is what I was thinkin’—” Roy reiterated, cutting Gator off, “—what with all the heat from the feds sniffin’ around, but then last night I had a dream. What’s today?” he asked, and Gator’s brows pinched, trying to catch up with his father’s somewhat erratic train of thought.

“Uh, Halloween–” he answered, but Roy was already one step ahead of him.

“Exactly. All Hallow’s Eve, in which the world of the Gods is made visible to humanity and the dead come back to life. That’s what Nadine is, can’t you see? She was dead, but now she’s back.”

“So…?” Gator asked, shaking his head slightly, not following.

“So, we get her tonight.”

“Tonight?” Gator asked, his stomach knotting at his father’s words.

“Yes, tonight,” Roy snapped, sensing Gator’s reluctance. “What, you got other plans?” he scoffed, watching Gator wince.

“Well… yeah, kinda.”

“Too fuckin’ bad,” Roy interrupted, his bluff face turning hard. “Tell that whore of yours you can’t see her tonight.”

“But–”

Gator’s halfhearted protest had Roy’s eyes narrowing sharply. “This is the best chance we have to get this done. You tell me which is more important,” he said, voice dangerously low, and Gator swallowed, giving himself a shake.

“This is,” he murmured, ducking his head obediently and Roy nodded, pleased with his answer.

“Good. Now, everyone’ll be in costume, the streets’ll be busy. So, ding-dong, trick-or-treat, we send two around the back, breach ‘em from both sides, tie ‘em up, put their masks on,” Roy explained, leaving Gator squinting in confusion.

“Their, uh, masks?”

“Their Halloween masks,” Roy clarified, an edge of irritation to his voice.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah,” Gator exclaimed, nodding quickly.

“Victor and villain, in-cognito, then boom, you’re out the door, you’re in the van, and no one’s the wiser,” Roy continued.

Gator nodded vacantly as he listened to the plan, trying to fix every detail to memory, though his thoughts kept returning to what he was gunna tell Win.

“Now remember, only guys we can trust. Got it?” Roy finished and Gator nodded.

“Say it.”

“Only guys we can trust,” Gator repeated.

“Good,” Roy grunted, nodding back toward Gator’s cruiser. “Now get goin’, you’ve got a long drive ahead of ya. You got this,” he added, patting Gator’s shoulder in encouragement. “I believe in you.”

Gator watched as his father climbed back into his truck, a dazed grin still stretching his lips as Roy’s words echoed in his ears.

I believe in you.

This was it. This was his chance to prove himself.

As soon as he was back behind the wheel, heading back toward the costume store to grab a few more masks, Gator quickly dialed the number of a guy he knew to put a crew together, stalling as long as he could before having to break the news to his girlfriend.

Reluctantly pulling up Win’s number, a message notification popped up on his screen—a photo of her in her Sally costume, her face painted to look just like the animated doll—and Gator allowed himself a wistful look before pressing the call button and bringing the phone to his ear, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously as the phone rang.

“Hey, you get your mask yet? Are you on your way over?”

Win didn’t give Gator a chance to even say hello, buffeting him with questions as soon as she answered, her excitement only making him feel even more guilty about what he needed to tell her.

“Uhm… actually, I got some bad news…”

The line went ominously silent and Gator grimaced, pushing on. “Somethin’s come up and dad needs my help with something tonight.”

“Tonight?” Win echoed incredulously. “You can’t do it tomorrow?”

“It’s kinda time sensitive,” Gator explained, sensing Win’s mounting frustration, and he couldn’t exactly blame her.

“Okay, well… could you come after you’ve finished?”

“I wish I could, but… I kinda hafta… drive to Minneapolis,” Gator mumbled, bracing himself for Win’s reaction.

“Minneapolis?! But that’s like a six and a half hour drive one way!” she exclaimed, the disappointment in her voice cutting right through him.

“I know,” Gator sighed. “I don’t like it any more than you do.”

“Did you tell him you had plans?” she asked, though he knew no matter how he answered she wouldn’t like it.

“Course I did, but this is important. He’s counting on me,” Gator insisted, a little more heated than he intended.

“So was I,” Win murmured.

Gator scoffed before he could help it. “It’s just a party, Win. There’ll be others.”

There was a beat of silence and Gator knew he’d fucked up.

“I know it’s just a party,” Win snapped, a hard edge leaching into her voice. “But I wanted you there. I wanted to play for you,” she murmured, a soft sniff punctuating her words. “I wanted you to meet my friends. That’s–that’s kind of a big deal for me.”

“Win–”

“No,” she exclaimed, interrupting him, not wanting to hear any more. “Go on. Go do daddy’s dirty work. See if I fucking care.”

“You don’t get it, Win,” Gator replied, begging her to understand. “I have to make him proud.”

Win snorted. “No, you don’t get it. No matter what you do for him. He will never be proud of you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Gator’s jaw flexed, his teeth gritting together as anger seared through him.

“The fuck do you know about loyalty?” he demanded, knowing it was a low blow.

“Jesus, you’re a fucking dick. You know what? I’m glad you’re not coming tonight,” Win spat, hanging up on him and Gator briefly wondered if he’d made her cry, quickly burying the pang of guilt beneath his anger.

———

Crouching to plug her guitar into her amp, Win took a swig from the bottle at her feet before discreetly checking her phone.

No new messages.

She scowled, unsure which she was more angry about—that Gator hadn’t texted since their fight, or the fact she wanted him to.

“Hey, you okay?” Beau asked, noticing the look on her face as he slung his bass over his shoulder and adjusted the strap.

“Peachy,” Win muttered, taking another drink and Beau shared a look with Lydia.

“I’m gunna hazard Tillman bailed?” Lyds asked carefully and Win’s scowl deepened.

She knew her friends still didn’t understand why she was even dating him, and right then, she didn’t blame them.

“I don’t really wanna think about it,” she muttered, straightening.

“Clearly,” Beau mumbled under his breath. “I just hope you’re not too blitzed for our set–”

He cut off with a glare from Win and grimaced.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, but Lydia looked doubtful.

Before either could say anything else, the music playing over the speakers cut out and the party’s host jumped on the small makeshift stage to introduce them. Win stepped up to the mic and began the intro to their first song without preamble, trying not to focus on the crowd in front of her too closely, lest she find herself searching for the one face she knew she wouldn’t see.

Once the first song came to an end, the last chord echoing through the speakers, she grabbed the mic stand and pulled it closer to address the audience, most of whom were also dressed in costumes.

“Happy fuckin’ Halloween you ghouls and goblins! Don’t you all look spooky tonight?” she drawled into the microphone, pointing out over the crowd before tugging lightly at her skirt. “Do you like my costume?”

A small cheer rose from the crowd while several wolf whistles pierced the clamour and Win huffed a humourless laugh.

“My boyfriend was supposed to come tonight as the Jack to my Sally, but he bailed on me, can you believe that?” she scoffed and someone in the audience called out: “I’ll be your Jack!”

Win rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched in amusement. “Find me after our set and we’ll see.”

By the time their small set ended, Win stumbled off the stage to pack up their equipment, her vision spinning slightly, though that didn’t stop her from grabbing a bottle of beer from a nearby cooler.

“Hey, you okay? For real?” Lydia asked, joining her, and Win shrugged a shoulder, snapping her guitar case shut.

“I will be. Nothin’ a little party can’t fix.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

Win let out a heavy sigh. “Driving to Minnesota.”

“Minnesota? Why?” Lydia exclaimed, her mouth dropping.

“Dunno, some errand for his dad. He didn’t go into detail,” Win explained, taking a long swig of beer.

“I don’t wanna say ‘I told you so’...” Lydia said, holding her hands up and Win snorted, taking her friend’s arm and pulling her toward the makeshift dance floor.

“Then don’t!”

It wasn’t long before dancing ceased to hold her attention and Win’s thoughts returned to Gator. Heading outside, away from the noise for a cigarette, she pulled her phone out to check for new messages, hurt to find none, not even a simple ‘I miss you’.

Before she could second guess herself, she dialed his number and brought the phone to her ear. With each ring her heart sank a little further, hoping he was just busy. Hoping he was alright. He’d never said exactly what this “errand” for Roy entailed and it only just occurred to her that it might be something dangerous.

When the call went to his voicemail, Win took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes.

“Hey, I wanted to see if you were okay,” she said, fiddling with the cigarette between her fingers. “I miss you…” she murmured, letting her eyes slip shut before a fresh wave of anger washed over her and her lips twisted sourly. “Actually, you know what, no. I’m glad you’re not here!” she exclaimed stubbornly, repeating what she’d told him earlier, though she didn’t really mean it. She just wanted to make him hurt like she was hurting.

“But y’know what, it’s your fuckin’ loss. I’m gunna go back in there and get fuckin’ wasted and have a great fuckin’ time without you and you’re gunna be sorry you missed it—“

Before she could finish her drunken thought, a couple of guys stumbled outside, the music from inside blaring for a moment before the door swung shut behind them.

“Hey! Hey, it’s sexy Sally,” the one guy said, his words slurring slightly as he recognized Win from earlier.

“What’re you doin’ out here all alone? You want some company? You did say to come see you after your set,” the other guy exclaimed, his voice loud over the phone before Win ended the call and spun to face them.

“Not if you’re gunna be creeps,” she snapped, taking a step backward and flicking her cigarette away.

“Aw c’mon, we’ll help ya forget all about your jerk boyfriend,” one of them drawled, an almost predatory grin stretching across his face.

“Fuck off,” Win huffed, pushing past them to head back inside and find her friends before they could get any ideas.

———

“Drive! Just fuckin’ drive,” Gator barked as he jumped into the van after hauling their unconscious teammate into the back and slamming the door. He craned his head to watch the flames dance higher across the roof of the house as they drove in the opposite direction, the tires struggling to find traction in the hard packed snow, and he silently kicked himself.

Roy was gunna be so pissed.

Though, Gator wasn’t sure which would be worse, his father’s anger, or his disappointment. Roy’s last words before they parted ways earlier ran through his head, only making his stomach hurt more.

You got this. I believe in you.

Gator wanted to scream, to beat his hand against the dash.

Nadine had been ready for them, but he’d gotten so close. Even though she’d banged up his crew pretty bad, he’d had her cornered, desperate, but then somehow the fire had started, quickly spreading out of control and he’d been forced to retreat—the fire department already en route, sirens hot on his heels.

One of the guys in the back let out a pained groan as the van hit a pothole and Gator scowled, pulling his phone from his pocket to distract himself. There were no messages from Roy and he didn’t dare send a status update, knowing full well not to leave an evidence trail. When he noticed Win’s voicemail however, his heart leapt, just the thought of hearing her voice reminding him just how much he missed her. That is, until he began to listen to the message.

The vitriol in her words felt like a punch to the gut, but when Gator heard unfamiliar masculine voices in the background—you said to come find you after your set—his jaw clenched, clamping his mouth shut against the wave of nausea that threatened to carry him away.

Win wouldn’t do that to him, right? She wouldn’t fuck someone else just to get back at him. Would she?

A voice in his head that sounded a lot like Roy reminded him she had a reputation for getting around, but Gator stubbornly squashed the thought, hastily dialing her number, though his insides squirmed uncomfortably.

With each hollow ring, the pit in his stomach opened wider, until the call went to voicemail and he felt like he might be swallowed whole. Chewing his chapped lip, he deliberated whether or not to leave a voicemail himself, finally making up his mind when the recorded greeting ended, punctuated by a shrill tone that only grated further on his nerves.

“Hey. I’m on my way home, but uh, what the fuck was that message about, huh? Who the hell was that guy?” he hissed, forgetting for a moment about the others in the van with him. “Call me back,” he added, fighting the urge to throw his phone and let his anger boil over.

Following up his message with a strongly worded text, he reached for his vape, needing to take the edge off his frayed nerves while he waited for Win to respond. As the minutes ticked by, however, and no call came, he brought the phone to his ear again, but this time it went straight to voicemail.

Now on the verge of panic, Gator tried again and again, the outcome unchanged in each few minutes between attempts.

Starting to spiral, his thoughts veering toward the worst, he stubbornly kept calling until the guy in the back let out an annoyed sigh.

“Dude, give it a rest already. She obviously doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

Gator whipped around in his seat to glare at him, the other, finally conscious again, flinching away from his gaze.

“How about you shut the fuck up before I shoot ya, huh?” he snapped, half reaching for his pistol strapped to his thigh.

The guy held his hands up in surrender and kept his mouth shut, heaving a breath when Gator turned back around to grumble at the driver. “Can’t you drive any fuckin’ faster?”

By the time the van pulled into the ranch’s drive, the sun had already crested the horizon, lighting the sky with its weak rays and Gator rubbed at his eyes—they felt grainy and his limbs felt heavy, stiffness having set in from the long drive and the bruises he was starting to definitely feel.

When the van parked, he snatched his mask from the dash and slid out, wearily making his way up the walk to the farm house. On the front porch a small group of ranch hands were working to cover several bodies in a tarp and Gator frowned.

“What happened?” he asked Bowman, who seemed to be standing guard in front of the house, supervising the clean up.

“Boogeyman came in the night,” he grunted, turning to eye Gator. “Left a warning in the kids’ room.”

“Who, Munch?”

“I don’t know the guy’s name,” Bowman huffed. “Full on wild man, though. Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

Gator let his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a heavy sigh whistling through his lips. More than anything, he wanted to climb the stairs to his room, collapse into bed, and forget the entire night ever happened, but he knew he wasn’t done yet and this news only made things more complicated.

“Where’s Roy?”

“Had to take care of something,” Bowman said, his breath steaming in the cold morning air.

Getting the address, Gator headed to his cruiser, needing to speak with his father.

———

Gator’s boots crunched on the gravel walk as he slowly approached the lone house trailer, Roy’s favourite horse hitched outside confirming it was the right place. He didn’t have long to wonder what Roy was doing there when the crack of a gunshot from inside made him jump and he quickened his steps, his heart in his throat as he pushed through the door and rushed into the trailer, his pistol already cocked and at the ready as he performed an initial sweep of the room, surveying the carnage.

Roy was unharmed, but the man across from him clutched at his throat as he sank into the couch behind him, blood spurting from between his fingers and frothing on his lips as he gasped for breath, his body spasming in the throws of death.

“Fucking hell,” Gator breathed, lowering his firearm as his stomach churned, and he finally tore his gaze from the dying man, shifting it to Roy. “You okay?” he asked, though Roy Tillman looked completely unruffled.

Roy didn’t answer, merely standing to ask the dying man’s wife for a glass of water. As she hurried to obey, Gator’s eyes unwittingly returned to the man still gasping and gurgling on the couch and he holstered his gun, not needing it any longer.

“Uh dad, what’re we doing?” he asked uncertainly and Roy once more ignored his question.

“So, did you get her?” he asked instead and Gator’s gaze instantly fell.

“Uhm–” he hesitated, trying to find the words to explain.

Roy let out a sigh, simply holding his hand up to stop Gator right there. “Don’t bother, I can see it all over your face. Worked you over pretty good, did she?” he asked, noting the fresh bruises already darkening Gator’s eye socket.

“It’s like he said, some kind of tiger,” Gator muttered, sighing. “The husband got hurt. House caught on fire–”

“Not now,” Roy warned, cutting him off as he glanced over at the wife, hovering uncertainly at the edge of the kitchen, her back pressed tight to the counter behind her.

“Oh, we got Munch,” Roy exclaimed instead, and Gator’s eyes widened. “You did?” he asked, relief surging through him, only to freeze in his veins at his father’s next words.

“Yeah, got him right there on the couch,” Roy replied, nodding to the dying man across the room. “It’s the guy from the filling station, the cop killer. Tip came in over the hotline. Lenore here called it in herself, didn’t you, Lenore?” he asked, turning to the trembling woman.

“Husband came home bragging he killed a state trooper, wounded another, I responded, shots fired, you were my backup.”

Gator frowned, a mere pinching of the brow as he struggled to put it all together, his sleep deprived brain making it harder than usual. “So…”

“Loop’s closed, I’m sayin’,” Roy said, giving him a pointed look. “State can call off their dogs, and we’re free to settle our differences in private.”

Gator nodded, finally getting the picture, and he watched silently as Roy turned to deal with the widow, discreetly bribing her to corroborate their story before she shakily agreed and he followed Roy outside, their business inside concluded.

“Somethin’ else’s botherin’ ya. What is it?” Roy asked as he untied his horse’s reins, his piercing gaze swinging toward Gator, who tried to wave his concern away, shaking his head with a stutter.

“Come on, out with it,” Roy insisted and Gator let out a reluctant sigh, looking down at his boots.

“Win went out without me last night. I got a weird message from her, some-some guys in the background–” he cut off, shaking his head. “Now she won’t answer my calls. I-I’m getting worried.”

Roy grunted. “I think you already know what she was up to. Stop kidding yourself.”

“What? No!” Gator exclaimed, his head snapping up, a look of horror on his face, but Roy could see it in his eyes and he shook his head as he climbed into his saddle. “Once a whore, always a whore,” he mused solemnly. “Best you cut that one loose. Save yourself the headache and the humiliation. Sooner or later, she’s gunna show you her true colours, and I’m not gunna say I told you so.”

Roy booted his horse, and took off, riding off into the rising sun without another word, leaving Gator standing there, once more twisting in the wind.

———

Gator barely waited til his cruiser was in park to cut the engine and jump out, practically stomping up the walk to pound at the door, past caring about the early hour and who might hear. After stewing all night and half the morning, his blood was boiling and he wanted answers.

When Win didn’t answer, he peered through the window, scowling when he saw her sitting at the kitchen counter, ignoring him.

“I know you’re fuckin’ in there!” he called, pounding the side of his fist against the door hard enough to rattle the window. “Lemme in, Win!”

When Win still didn’t get up, Gator’s scowl deepened and he began searching for a hidden key, hoping she had one. If not, he’d be forced to move onto plan C and just kick the door in.

“Ha!” he exclaimed as he flipped over one of the rocks in the empty flower bed, revealing a little silver key.

It wasn’t until she heard the click of the bolt opening that Win finally jumped to her feet. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she cried, standing her ground against Gator. “That’s breaking and entering!”

“Not if I have a key,” he countered, holding it up for her to see before slipping it in his pocket.

“What was your backup plan? Bust my door down?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing daggers.

“Yeah, actually it was.”

Win let out an incredulous huff. “I’d love to see you try.”

Gator took a step closer, his jaw flexing with the effort of trying to keep his anger in check. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart, after the night I’ve had, I wouldn’t fuckin’ tempt me,” he muttered, his voice growing low, holding an edge of menace that did little to intimidate Win.

“Oh? After the night you’ve had? Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?” she spat, not backing down. “Piss off, Gator.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Gator demanded, ignoring her jab and Win turned away, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“Because I didn’t want to talk to you. I was mad–I am mad!”

“You sure it wasn’t cause you were busy fucking someone else?” Gator hissed, his good hand clenching into a fist at his side as he fought not to lose control–everything Roy had ever taught him about discipline racing through his head.

“What?” Win asked, spinning to face him, Gator’s accusation ripping through her like a bullet. “Is that what you really think?”

Gator let out a derisive snort. “What else am I s’posed to think? I heard that guy on your voicemail message! He said you told him to come find you later,” he exclaimed, his fist trembling with rage.

Win winced; she hadn’t realized that’d picked up on the recording. “I-I said that during our set, but I wasn’t actually serious,” she tried to explain. “After I hung up, I told him off and went to find my friends. Nothing happened!” she insisted, but Gator rolled his eyes, his chapped lips pulling into a sneer.

“Maybe my dad was right. Once a whore, always a whore.”

Win’s mouth fell open and she stepped back as if struck. “You don’t believe that,” she said, voice small, the hurt in her eyes making Gator flinch, shame instantly seeping into him though he quickly squashed it down.

“I dunno, maybe I do,” he spat, avoiding her gaze. “Maybe you wanted to get back at me–”

Win shook her head.

“I wanted you there! All I could think about was how much I fucking missed you. I didn’t know what you were doing—if it was legal, if it was dangerous, if you’d come back hurt, if you came back at all. I cried myself to sleep and when I got your message it just made me mad all over again. That’s why I turned my phone off, not because I was fucking some guy,” she cried, her voice growing hoarse.

“For once in my fucking life there’s only one person I want and that’s you! So why the fuck would I ruin that?” she exclaimed, her gaze desperately pleading with him to believe her. “I would never do that to you, no matter how fucking mad I am!”

Gator deflated, exhaustion sucking all the fight from him. He knew in his heart she was right—since they’d begun dating she hadn’t so much as looked at another man—but his mouth opened and closed wordlessly, unable to form the words to tell her before his eyes fell to the floor and he tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. Silence fell over the room and he swallowed, working up the courage to admit he was wrong.

“I believe you…” he murmured, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I just–my dad said that shit and I got scared. I should’ve trusted you,” he breathed, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Yes, you should’ve, you dick,” Win huffed, giving him a frustrated shove, her admonishment not to believe a word Roy said about her—knowing the man’d take any opportunity he could to break them up—died on her tongue when she saw the way Gator winced and she grabbed his jacket, tugging him closer to get a better look at his face, finally noticing the dark bruise forming under his eye.

“What the fuck happened?” she breathed, carefully taking his face between her hands, tilting it this way and that to search for more injuries, wondering just how bad it was beneath his clothes.

“Fell down some stairs,” Gator muttered, pulling her hands gently from his face.

“Gator–”

“It’s the truth!” he insisted, thankful that at least he could be truthful about something, even if he couldn’t tell her how it’d happened.

Though Win looked skeptical, she didn’t press the issue, merely pursing her lips. “Yeah well, I don’t like that you keep getting hurt because of Roy,” she muttered, pulling her sweater tighter around herself.

“That’s not what’s happening,” Gator argued, pulling her closer to wrap his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“Isn’t it?” she countered, closing her eyes and pressing her face to his chest. “Everytime he needs you to do something for him, you come back with a broken arm, or a black eye and bruised ribs,” she pointed out. “And I don’t like the way he treats you afterward, like you’re some fuck up. You deserve better.”

“It’s not that easy,” Gator murmured, his brows pinching. “I want to make him proud. I have to do better,” he insisted and Win’s heart broke a little at his words.

If only he could see his father as clearly as she did.

“What if it’s never enough?” she asked, and Gator’s frown deepened. He didn’t want to think about that. If he didn’t acknowledge it, it couldn’t be true.

“I’m proud of you. Can’t that be enough?” Win whispered, her voice breaking.

Gator squeezed her tighter, guilt burning in his chest. He wished it could be enough, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there tonight,” he murmured, changing the subject. “If it makes any difference, I really wanted to be…”

“I know,” Win sighed. “There’ll be other parties, other gigs,” she said.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t there that’d bothered her, so much as why he wasn’t there, but she was tired of fighting, just glad to have him back.

God, but she was a fool in love.

Win stiffened as the thought caught her off guard. She couldn’t be in love. She’d never used that word before, not with any of her relationships anyway.

“Yeah, I know,” Gator said, not noticing Win waging an internal emotional battle over her sudden epiphany. “But I had the perfect mask for last night too,” he lamented, pulling the round Jack Skellington mask from his back pocket to hold in front of his face, and Win looked up at him, her chest aching with affection.

“The Jack to my Sally,” she murmured, raising up on her toes to press a kiss to the mask where his mouth would be.

Gator tilted the mask back, letting it rest atop his head as he met Win’s gaze. “Can I make it up to you?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her and Win thought for a moment, letting him sweat.

“I dunno, can you?” she asked, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips despite her cool tone.

As answer, Gator hoisted her into his arms to carry her to the bedroom, dropping her to the bed before tugging her by the ankles to the edge.

“I sure can try,” he drawled, and Win’s hips lifted as he eased her shorts down, finding her bare beneath them. “No panties?” he asked, his lips curling in amusement as he admired her.

“I need to do laundry, don’t judge me,” Win huffed, pouting up at him.

“I don’t think you should wear them ever, if you ask me,” Gator chuckled and her breath hitched as he knelt before her, hooking his arms around her thighs to hold her still as his mouth found her core, his tongue slipping eagerly between her folds to taste her.

A soft moan left her lips and her head fell back as his nose bumped against her clit, sending a jolt through her. Pleased with her reaction, Gator moved higher to tease her sensitive bud, tracing sloppy circles around it with his tongue, and Win’s hands balled in the mess of sheets beneath her.

“Oh fuck, Gator–” she groaned, rolling her hips against his mouth and he switched tactics, lapping at her with broad unrelenting strokes, proud of the way he made her squirm, the sound of his name amid her breathy moans making him dizzy. Drawing the hood of her clit between his lips to suck, he flicked the tip of his tongue against her aching bud rapidly and she let out a cry, her legs trying to tighten around the sides of his face.

Growling into her cunt, he pried her legs apart, pinning her down despite her writhing, and his movements grew sloppier in his desperation to make her cum, drool and her juices running down his chin and coating his cheeks.

“Gator—Gator!”

Win’s voice cracked as she let out a keening whine, her body going rigid as her climax washed over her in waves, her hips lifting from the bed, cunt fluttering, clenching around nothing, but Gator didn’t stop til she was an overstimulated twitching mess, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath.

When he finally lifted his face, panting just as hard, he turned to kiss her inner thigh, wiping the slick mess from his face against her feverish skin.

“Gator,” Win whined, shifting beneath him and he opened his eyes, looking up at her from between her legs.

“Fuck me with the mask on.”

A grin tugged at his lips, the idea turning him on more than he would’ve expected. He’d only been planning on giving without asking for anything in return—something he’d never thought he’d do, to be honest—but how could he deny her if that was what she wanted?

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he got to his feet, stripping hastily and pulling the mask down over his face. For a moment he stood over her, tilting his head as he took in the sight of her—her arms stretched over her head, body on display for him.

“Jack—“ she purred with a quirk of her lips, reaching for him, and he couldn’t help the groan that caught in his throat as he crawled atop her, grasping his cock to give it several slow strokes before tapping it against her messy cunt.

“This what you want?” he drawled, his voice muffled by the mask, rubbing his throbbing head between her folds, coating it with her slick. “Want me to stretch this tight little pussy, split you open on my cock?”

Win merely nodded, her lips parting in a silent plea.

“Uh uh, gotta hear you say it, Princess,” he taunted, giving her sensitive clit another smack with his head, making her twitch.

“Yes, please, Gator,” she begged.

“That’s more like it,” he grunted, finally pressing into her slowly, his breath hitching at the way her walls hugged him so perfectly, clenching around him, sucking him deeper.

“C’mon, you can take it,” he growled, stretching her further, breathing evenly through his nose to keep from cumming too soon, his breath condensing against the inside of the mask.

Pausing once he’d sheathed her, he gave her a moment to adjust before pulling nearly all the way out and thrusting back into her languidly, fucking her deep and slow, letting her feel every vein and ridge. It was only when Win wrapped her hand around his wrist, guiding his hand to her throat that he nearly faltered.

“Choke me,” she breathed, and Gator marveled at the way his hand easily encircled her neck, his cock twitching deep inside her at the sight. Careful not to go too far, he began to squeeze, applying just enough pressure for Win’s mouth to fall open silently and her body to tense, but for her chest to still rise and fall.

With each snap of his hips to hers, he grew rougher, his thrusts growing faster, harder, slamming into her as he choked her, fucking her into the mattress like in his filthiest wet dreams.

The way she looked up at him, devotion glazing over her unwavering gaze, made Gator light headed and he suddenly needed to be closer, needed to feel her.�� Releasing her throat, he tore the mask off his head, letting it clatter to the ground as he surged forward to claim her lips in a searing kiss, his thrusts growing sloppy in his desperation.

He swallowed her cries in a frenzied clash of lips and teeth, groaning into her mouth as her nails bit into his shoulder blades, raking down his back to grab desperately at his ass, urging him deeper until he couldn’t hold back any longer, his balls tightening and spilling his load deep inside her with a broken moan, her name on his lips as came apart.

When he collapsed atop her, still twitching inside her, Win’s arms snaked around his back, holding him tightly against her chest.

“I forgive you,” she whispered into his shoulder and Gator smiled sleepily, his eyes fluttering shut in her embrace, a weight leaving his chest at her words. Exhaustion finally overtook him, and Win wasn’t far behind, a deep comforting sleep dragging her under.

Gator wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours later when he woke, needing to take a piss, Win still passed out beneath him, a peaceful look on her face that tugged at his heartstrings. Carefully disentangling himself so as not to wake her, he pressed a featherlight kiss to her forehead, pushing her sweat-dampened bangs out of the way before pushing off the bed to amble to the bathroom.

Not bothering to shut the door behind him, Gator let out a sigh as he relieved himself, taking a moment to splash some water on his face and run his fingers through his hair before heading back to the bedroom.

Something made him pause, however, and he turned to frown at the front door, having forgotten if he’d locked it behind him or not. Finding it unlocked, he quickly yanked it open to peer outside, only to freeze at the sight of a bloodied note stuck to the door with a serrated hunting knife.

I’m Always Watching.

Hissing a panicked breath, Gator hastily peered up and down the street once more before yanking the knife free and locking the door behind him. Pressing his back to the door, he crumpled the note in his fist, his heart hammering in his chest.

The door had been unlocked the whole time, Munch could’ve easily walked right in, attacking them while they were… distracted. The thought sent his blood running cold—he couldn’t afford to be so careless, not when Win was involved.

Stowing the knife in the side of one of his boots, he scrubbed his hands clean and grabbed his gun before returning to the bedroom, finding Win still asleep, completely blissfully unaware of what had happened.

Sleep with your hammer cocked, that is, if you sleep at all.

Roy’s words ran through his head and he slipped his pistol under the pillow before crawling back into bed and pulling Win close, his pulse still thundering in his ears.

If Munch had wanted them dead, he could’ve already done it, which meant they were probably safe for the time being, Gator reminded himself, willing his nerves to calm, forcing himself to match Win’s slow even breaths. Burying his face in her hair, he yearned for that deep unassuming sleep he’d woken from not long ago, but one thought still nagged at him—if Munch had the opportunity to do more than leave a warning, why hadn’t he?