#Tim Gutterson/OC

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Twelve

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Author Master List

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven,

CHAPTER: Twelve

“Uncle Boyd?” Elenora had been leaving school when she saw her uncle leaning against her truck. His arms crossed on his chest and he had a smile on his face as she approached.

“Elenora.” He greeted back.

Elenora stood in front of him now, and her free hand moved to reach up for the strap of her workbag. Knowing her gun was tucked in the glove box of her car, if something were about to happen the only weapon she had was her heavy bag. “Can I do something for you?”

“I was hoping that I could entice you to join me for a cup of coffee.”

Thinking on her feet, Elenora smiled at her uncle and relaxed her shoulders. “Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

“You meeting that Marshal boyfriend of yours?”

Elenora was not sure what to think. The only way he would know about Tim was if he had seen them together. She then realized he was leaning against her Bronco. Something he had never seen. “You following me?”

“Happened upon you once or twice.” He pushed off from the vehicle and held a hand to his buttoned up chest. “Scout’s honor, I only wanted to ensure you were safe. You know with all that your daddy and I get up to.”

“What do you want, Uncle Boyd?”

“I just want to talk. We can even go somewhere of your choosing. I just want to get to know the woman you have become.”

Elenora thought about this for a moment. What harm was there in just having a coffee? He seemed genuine enough. “There is a coffee shop around the corner. It’s usually busy at this time, and we can walk over. Oh, and I’m texting Tim.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Boyd said with a smile.

“Daddy taught me well.” Elenora spoke as she pulled her phone out from the side pocket of her workbag.

Elenora: Uncle Boyd and I are going for a coffee, the usual. I’ll have my phone and gun. No need to worry.

Tim: That’s my girl.

Tim: Got prisoner transport. Shouldn’t be too late.

“Let me throw this stuff in the back and grab my purse.” Said Elenora, before walking around the front of her vehicle. She opened the passenger door, threw her bag on the seat, and extracted her small purse from its insides. Once she had it, she looked up to eye Boyd, who was still just standing in the same place and staring at the school she had come from. Quickly, she opened the glove box and extracted her pistol and slipped it into her bag. Then she threw the strap around her shoulder and closed and locked the door. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Said Boyd, who then walked to stand next to her. “Lead the way.”

“So, daddy tells me you are on the straight.” Said Elenora, as both she and Boyd exited the parking lot.

Boyd stuck his hands in his pockets. “Trying ta’ be. Back at the mines.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Till I die of black lung.” Said Boyd simply.

Elenora led them around the corner. “You could always try to find a more health conscious line of work.”

“There aren’t too many people that will hire someone with my history.”

“Well, maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough then.” Elenora snapped.

“You are definitely your parent’s child. Don’t know which one you sound like more, Raylan or Bella.”

“Sorry.” Elenora whispered, and she dropped her head slightly in shame. “I’m glad you are trying, Uncle Boyd.”

It did not take long for them to reach the coffee shop, and Boyd held the door open for her. Once inside, she directed Boyd to have a seat and she would order two coffees. Boyd said he would have whatever she was having. So she ordered to brown sugar espresso then paid, directing the staff that she was going to sit down.

Boyd had picked a spot towards the back wall, the same table that Tim would usually pick when given the chance. It had a clear view of both exits and out the windows. When Elenora sat down, she placed her purse on her lap and kept both hands on it.

“You won’t need that pistol of yours. I told you, I just wanna get to know you. Make sure... make sure that you are okay. That you’re happy. That you...”

“Aren’t a drug addict like my mamma?”

Boyd visibly cringed. “I can’t imagine you are. Job, you have that education. Your daddy and I’m sure that boyfriend of yours wouldn’t allow for such a thing.”

“Reading.”

“Reading?” Elenora watched as Boyd’s face scrunched in visible confusion.

“That’s my vise, my addiction. I read.”

It was at this point that the coffee’s arrived and there was a pause in the conversation. “Here you go Nora. You coffee cheating on Tim now, you know he won’t be none too happy bout that.”

Elenora let out a laugh. “I’m sure I’ll have to deliver him a double on the weekend to make up for it.” With a smile, the waitress put down the cups and walked away.

“Tim.” Boyd began as he stared at Elenora. “What’s his story? Only met him a few times. Boy seems to have a quick wit and holds a gun like he was born with it.”

Elenora pulled her cup towards herself. “He was an army ranger. Sniper. Doesn’t talk about it much, but he was good from what I hear.”

“You being careful with that one? I know what it’s like coming back from something like that. I watched a lot of good people come back real messed up, and they probably did a lot less.” The look in Boyd’s eyes told Elenora that he was being truly sincere.

“He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know about his PTSD. Learning his triggers.”

“That’s good.” Boyd let out a sigh and then reached for his own drink. “This looks real fancy.”

“Espresso, some milk and brown sugar.”

Boyd lifted the cup to his face, blew on it, and then brought it to his lips for a small sip. Once he had swallowed, he put the cup back down and smiled. “Your momma like sweet things too.”

“What was she like, before...” Elenora trailed off, she like to remember the few good things she could about her mother. Most of what she remembered was her mother passed out somewhere in the house and Elenora teaching herself how to use the stove to make soup for dinner.

“Before she got hooked on oxy?”

Elenora let her eyes fall to her cup, and she ran her finger around the rim. “Yeah.”

“Your momma was an old soul. Didn’t want for much, always helped out everyone else before she thought about herself. She was good in school, till she dropped out to raise you. We thought she might have been the first Crowder to actually amount to somethin’ big.”

“So what happened?”

“She had you, and then she started working for Bo, your grand-pappy. Next thing we knew she was using, and then I was off to war. They let me come back for the funeral...”

“Yeah, hard to forget about that.”

Boyd looked ashamed. “What we did to you, that wasn’t right. I know that now and I am sorry. I knew it then. You were the only thing left from her, and without thinking of the consequences of our actions, we made a poor decision.”

“Do you know how scared I was? I had just found out I had a father that knew nothing about me, and then I was kidnapped by my own family. Hauled off to some cabin. Men with guns watching the perimeter. I watched a man die in front of me. Do you know how messed up that made me?” Elenora’s voice died down into a whisper. “It is going to take a lot more than a sorry to fix that, Uncle Boyd.”

“And I would like a chance to do more than say I’m sorry. So how’s your daddy feel about you dating a lawman?” Elenora did not answer and instead brought her cup to her lip for another sip. Her uncle watched her for a moment and then realized the answer to his question. “Your daddy doesn’t know.”

“Nope.”

Boyd smirked and shook his head. “You know, that is probably not the best idea. Knowing what I know of your daddy, I don’t think that is going to end well for you.”

“It was never going to end well. Now they work together, and either way, it’s gonna be a bad day for everyone.”

--------------------------------

Elenora was sat on her couch, her and her uncle had talked for about two hours before they parted ways. The tv was playing some movie, and she had a book folded open on the blanket that rested across her lap, but she just stared at the wall. A part of her wanted to believe her Uncle, that maybe they could be a family again, but her heart just did not want to latch onto that thought. He was right about one thing. Perhaps it was time to tell her dad about Tim.

The door deadbolt flipping brought Elenora out of her trance, and she watched as Tim entered the apartment. She watched as he relocked the door behind him, moved across to the bed, unloaded his weapon, and tossed his magazine onto Elenora’s side of the bed. This was routine now, so simple it was as if they had done it a thousand times already. She knew not to ask. If he wanted to talk about what happened, Elenora would let him tell her when he was ready.

When Tim entered the living area after discarding his badge and gun and brought himself to the couch and picked her book up from her hands and laid down with his head on her lap. He left the book open to her page and draped it across his stomach to keep her place. His fingers weaved themselves together as he laid his hands across his lap.

Elenora reached down and ran her fingers through Tim’s hair and watched as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “Uncle Boyd knows about us. He’s been following me.”

“Gonna have to teach you how to lose a tail. He must not have told your daddy, otherwise I don’t think he would have wanted to be teamed up with me today.”

“No, but he did say I should tell him sooner rather than later. I think he’s right. We should figure out how we want to do this.”

---------------------

“Raylan, we need to talk,” Art called out after he saw Raylan grab his hat to leave for the night. Raylan raised an eyebrow as he entered the office. “You are gonna wanna sit down.”

“Art? What’s going on?” Raylan questioned as he sat himself down on the couch.

Art leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands together. “How’d Tim seem at the scene?” Since his two deputies got back, Art had been having an internal battle about whether he should be worried about the situation or not. He was sure that Tim had some PTSD and a drinking problem, and while it never affected his work, now Elenora was in the picture.

“Seemed fine. Why?”

“Just wondering. Close range shot, with a pregnant woman in proximity. Tight shot, things could have easily gone wrong.”

Raylan leaned back on the couch and sighed. “Art, if you were really worried about Tim, you would be talking to him right now, so what is this really about? You gonna give me shit cause I gave him the go ahead?”

“I need you to know something, that you aren’t supposed to know, and you have to promise you aren’t going to go all Raylan on me.” Said Art, realizing that he was about to open a door, he would never be able to close.

“What do you mean go all Raylan?”

“You know, shoot someone. If you didn’t know, you are an angry man, Raylan.”

Raylan sighed and tipped his head back. “Spit it out Art, I promise I won’t shoot no one.”

Art took a large breath in and looked Raylan in the eye. “Tim and Elenora are together, Raylan. Been seeing each other before you got transferred.”

“Bullshit. I’ve asked both of them. Elenora swore that she was seeing someone else. She wouldn’t lie to me about that.”

“Raylan, you threatened to shoot the man. How do you think you coming here working with the guy who was sleeping with your daughter was gonna be if you knew? You would just have ended up hating Tim before you even got to know the guy. You telling me you wouldn’t have tried to break them up? Wouldn’t have ended up ruining your relationship with your daughter?”

Raylan opened his mouth, but then closed it and let his shoulders sag. “She was scared to tell me?”

“They both are.”

“How’d you find out?”

Art could see the defeat in Raylan’s eyes. Like a man who realized he had fucked up, with no clue how to come back from it. “I saw them at a coffee shop together. Arm’s wrapped around each other. Elenora laughing and smiling. The night we needed Tim to get us in with your father, the two of them had been out. That’s why I went with him. Elenora was fast asleep in the backseat. Tim confessed to the whole thing. Raylan, he bought a ring.”

At this, Raylan’s eyes widened. “Like a...” He trailed off and pointed toward the ring finger on his left hand.

“Yup. He’s been sitting on it for months. Waiting to ask your permission. They’re good kids Raylan. I’m only breaking their confidence because if Tim can’t handle this, he’s taking that home to your daughter; to a young woman that feels like she’s my own.”

Raylan was quiet for a long while, till finally the wheel in his head stopped turning. “What do I do? Do I, do I tell her I know? Do I tell him I know?”

“From one dad to another, you need to let them come to you. Otherwise, they are gonna feel like kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Just show Elenora that you trust her, that you are proud of her, and she will tell you. Now that I know, it’s clear they aren’t trying too hard to hide it from you. I think it’s just a matter of her knowing you aren’t disappointed in her.”

“I could never be disappointed with her. She’s grown into this strong young woman. Someone I never thought I would be able to raise on my own.”

“Then tell her that Raylan, and maybe she will start telling you things you wanna here too.” Art watched as Raylan stood up, hat in his hands.

“I’ll do a drive by, send her a message. Just check in with her. I’m sure Tim’s fine. You’ll need to debrief and all that tomorrow, anyway. Should be easy to tell if there is concern.” Art stood up from his chair and eyed Raylan with suspicion. “I won’t do anything stupid, don’t worry. Need more time to process all this anyhow.”

“Well then, have a good night, Raylan.”

Raylan headed towards the doorway but paused before looking back at Art. “Thanks for telling me.”

“I’d hope you would have done the same.”

78.

Raylan circled the block of Elenora’s apartment building and found Tim’s car parked in a paid parking stall, alongside a bunch of overflow vehicles from a nearby hotel. He admitted he probably would have never noticed driving by that it was Tim’s, but now he knew to look.

When he pulled up across the street from Elenora’s large windows, he looked up to find the lights in the apartment on. Pulling out his phone, he pulled up Elenora’s number and hit call. He could see a shadow move across the window, and then the call was answered.

“Daddy, is everything okay?”

“Yeah sunshine, everything’s fine.” Said Raylan and he watched as Elenora came into view through the window.

“Did you need something?”

Raylan sighed as he watched her lean against the window frame, staring off into the room. “Had a weird case today and thought of you. I just, just wanted to hear your voice, know that you were okay.”

“I’m good daddy. Are you?”

“I will be. Like I said, just wanted to hear your voice.” It was then he noticed a second shadow moving across the window. “But I should let you go. I probably woke you up. Hey, you aren’t working tomorrow, are you? Wanna grab breakfast with your old man?”

“I’d love to. Say seven before you need to go in?”

“Yeah, that works. I’ll text you the place.”

“Okay daddy, get some sleep. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sunshine.” With that, Raylan ended the call and watched as Elenora did the same, and then Tim came into view. Raylan watched as the two said something to one another and then Tim stepped forward, placed a hand on her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Then they disappeared further into the apartment before the lights began to turn off, bathing the home in darkness.

Raylan fell back in his seat. “Well, fuck.” He whispered and thought back to his time with Tim. The guy seemed to have his shit together. He was good at his job, and honestly, he was beginning to think of the guy as a friend, one of the few he actually had.

Chapter Thirteen Coming....

[beebobeebo]

[emily-strange]

I swear my toxic trait is loving characters that have little to no fanfiction 😂😑😭

[maraskywalkers]

y'all I spent way too long on this esp considering I haven't even written the fic (yet??) but anyway I made this little text conversation to try to give a feel for what the dynamic is between Tim & his baby sister, June. enjoy?

[ctoan11]

Rules: Post a poll with your 5 favorite characters and let others decide which is their favourite

I’m supposed to have been tagged and then tag other people, but I just wanted to have fun, so if you want to have fun too, fill your boots.

[deputy-buck]

Good Coffee and Good Mornings

Maybe it’s their shared childhood trauma, or their rigorous training provided by good ‘ol Uncle Sam, but neither Gutterson boy can sleep past 06:30. It’s not like their jobs allow for them to get too slack on their sleep schedules anyway, Tim being in the Marshal Service, Cade being in the Fish and Wildlife Protection Service, both up and out the door before the sun most days.

Habits die hard or don’t die at all in what’s left of this family.

They find each other in the kitchen at 06:12.

Cade, with a cup of coffee in his hand and dressed for work, is waiting patiently for his biennial ‘Big Brother Duties’. He doesn’t move an inch when Tim walks silently through the threshold in boxers and a pre-caffeine scowl, but he does track all of Tim’s movements with his eyes. Early August’s morning sunshine is just starting to peek through the blinds above the sink, tinting the light countertops and dark hardwoods so many shades of orange that it feels like they’re bathing in it. He only gets to have this familiarity for two weeks every other year, he’s going to soak it up.

The younger man only has two things in mind: Good coffee and a forehead kiss. In that order.

"I should be back before nineteen hundred." Cade breaks the morning peace, taking another mouthful of coffee while he watches his little brother grab a cup from the top shelf, having to arch up on his tippy-toes to reach the off-white handle of a coffee cup. It wasn’t intentional, but what’s normal height to Cade is a little high for Tim, eight inches between them and all. 

"Mm." Tim grunts, voice sleep rough. He's already grabbing the coffee pot before his heels even reconnect with the ground, pouring steaming liquid to the brim and taking a sip all with his eyes half closed.

God, this shit's good, Tim thinks to himself.

"I got work tomorrow, too." Cade leads on with an extra hint-hint nudge-nudge to his tone, southern drawl thick and taunting. He's fighting back a smile at Tim's unobservance, happy Tim isn't immediately on high alert in his house.

Cade worked hard from day one of Tim’s life to make his little brother feel unconditionally safe in his presence, it wasn’t easy given where they grew up, but damn it if Cade didn’t do everything he could to make himself Tim’s personal safe haven. And now Tim feels safe here, Cade could never ask for anything more. Cade only hopes that Tim feels like this place is his home as well.

"Mm-hmm." It’s more so a hum this time, throat soothed with high-quality caffeine. Tim can tell his big brother is still in the ‘wow, I can buy nice things without feeling guilty about wasting it because of surprise deployments.’ phase of Vet-Life eight years later. Good for him.

"You just want me to tell you 'bye' right now so I'll have to say it again in an hour, huh?" The older man accuses, smile finally splitting his features in two. He wishes he could have this every morning, the easy flow between them, a quiet yet full morning. He’s tired of an empty house. No, he’s tired of not having Tim around anymore; the six dogs, ferret, and red-tailed Boa fill the house plenty. Not to mention the goddamn horse outside. 

"Mm, not bye, just good mornin’." Tim corrects easily, eyes now fully shut, enjoying the familiar ease of summer mornings in Shelby, Texas. 

"You're still mentally like, eleven, ain't you?” Cade throws his arm around Tim’s shoulders, putting most of his weight down for a moment just to be an ass. “Same height at least."

"I enjoy routine and tradition, sue me." Tim says, pointedly not responding to the age-old jab verbally. Instead, he leans his shoulder into Cade’s side, digging the sharp bone into sensitive nerves layered over the taller man’s ribs. He only lets up when Cade squirms and takes the weight off his shoulders. Cade lets his hand rest on the countertop behind Tim’s back, his forearm pressed to blanket-warm skin.

This feels right. Why did this ever have to fade away? The plastic dog door flaps open as Tracker makes her way through it excitedly having heard Tim, i.e. her favorite human. Tim is suddenly being pressed harder into the body he was only leaning on, big, spotted paws on his side pushing him closer while Cade cranes his neck down to reach Tim’s forehead. 

“Good mornin’, Bubba.” Cade murmurs with his lips pressed between the shorter man’s eyebrows. When the hand previously resting on the lacquered wood comes down to pet his prized hunting dog, his fingers land on a set of spindly digits already blindly scratching through short fur. “You need to pluck your unibrow.” 

“Fuck you, man. I come here to get away from whiny old men, not deal with a different one.” Tim outright whines, eyes finally opening to glare at Cade in that stupidly petulant way he’s capable of even at forty. 

[multifandomhoodies]

i have like three stories im workin on rn like. currently Open on my computer and it’s a mix for sure

[onceuponatimeinerebor]

The Devil's Backbone - Part 1

Masterlist | Part 2

Pairing: Boyd Crowder x F!OC (Tim Gutterson x F!OC) Word Count: 3.2k Tags: slow burn(...probably), fluff, angst with a happy ending Warnings: Drinkin', Cussin'...and like, people are gonna get shot

Summary: Delilah Givens is back in her hometown after a decade away. Frustrated by her situation at having return to a town she thought she'd never see again, things go from bad to worse with the arrival of her estranged brother Raylan. Having parted ways with her elder brother filled with resentment, she was less than pleased to see him walk back into her life. When Raylan starts asking about an old friend, Lila finds herself being pulled between her family, her feelings, and the law. What will she have to lose to get what she wants?

A/N: YES I'M POSTING A SECOND WALTON GOGGINS FIC IN THE SAME DAY! Don't you dare judge me! He's the light of my life. 🥺 Also go listen to Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars it's really good.

Raylan Givens sat in the driver's seat of his Lincoln Town Car, chewing his lip as he stared intently at the shabby house at the end of the drive.

The little one-story sat cockeyed as the rigors of time and the East Kentucky rain warped the frame so far he hardly knew how it stayed standing. The eggshell blue paint he remembered from his childhood had all but chipped away, leaving the worn, gray wood exposed. The lawn had recently been mowed, with large piles of shredded grass piled around. The plants and weeds around the porch stood wild and overgrown, obstructing any view one might have from the dirty front windows. There were rusted bits of trash piled at the edge of the drive, left to decay when the house had first been left to sit years before. God only knows what you might find in the derelict barn out back--well, God and the braver local teenagers.

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he gave one last, long sigh.

This was not going to go well.

He exited the car, making his way slowly up the gravel drive towards the house. Nearing the porch, Raylan saw the door was open. He could hear music blasting through the ripped screen door; something fast and folky. He heard someone cuss loudly inside the house and something hit the floor hard. His balled fist stopped just before it could knock on the door. The urge to turn tail and run was intense, but he pushed through the feeling and managed a quick rap on the rotting wood of the screen door. He heard rustling inside, but when it was clear he hadn't been heard he reluctantly knocked a little louder.

"Lila? You home?" Raylan called, looking down at his boots as he leaned against the house. The rustling stopped instantly.

"Who's that?" A woman's voice yelled back.

He hesitated for a moment, before answering, "It's Raylan." The music suddenly cut off, and Raylan could hear loud footsteps heading his way. He barely saw the outline of the woman on the other side of the screen before having to jump back as the she slammed the door open.

There, glaring up at him, stood his baby sister. Her strawberry blonde hair a mess of curls clipped loosely on her head as her chestnut eyes stared daggers in his direction. The tank top and jean shorts she wore were dirty and dripping wet.

"Now Lila," he started, his hands going up in defense.

"Don't you start with me Raylan Givens!" She snapped, "I don't know what the hell you're doin' back in Kentucky, but you've got no business with me, you understand? So you just turn yourself around and you get goin'." Raylan sighed.

"Lila, if you'd just listen to me--"

She scoffs, "Oh, you want me to listen? Is that all? You got something important to say to me?" She asked sarcastically, "Well then by all means Raylan--I am at your service." She added a patronizing curtsy to drive her point home. Raylan felt a twinge of guilt snag in his chest, before pushing it down and grabbing the edge of the screen door.

"Now you listen here, Delilah Givens. I do feel awful about what transpired when we last spoke, and I would like to work things out between the two of us if I can. But this is not a social call--it's official Marshall business." Raylan said forcefully. Lila scowled.

"And just what do the US Marshalls want with me? If this is 'bout daddy, I don't--"

Raylan raised a hand to stop her, "Nah, this ain't about Arlo; it's about Boyd Crowder." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Boyd?" she laughed, "What do I know about Boyd Crowder? He was your friend not mine, remember?"

"Well people are sayin' you and he have gotten close since you came back."

Lila rested her hands firm on the hips, which were popped to one side in an aggressive stance Raylan knew all too well . "Who's sayin'?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

Raylan shifted in place, his eyes cast to the ground before replying softly, "Ava Crowder." In comparison to Raylan's quiet admission, Lila's laugh was almost obnoxious.

"Oh did she now?" She practically yelled her response, before shaking her head in judgement, "Imagine! That woman shot her husband dead not 24 hours ago, and now before the man's body's even got cold she's right back to gossipin' 'bout things that ain't her business."

"Now cool down Lila; it wasn't like that."

"Then why don't you tell me what it was like Raylan--I know you're dying to."

"She was just answers my questions, that's all," he assured her.

Lila laughed through her nose, "Well she lied to you Raylan--is that a crime? Lying to a fed?"

"Now I don't believe she did lie," he said, pointing his finger at her, "and I think you know more than you're wantin' to say." Lila looked up at him silently, her eyes squinting as she thought hard about what to say next.

"Well, truth is Raylan it don't much matter either way. Because I don't have to tell you a god damn thing. Now if you wanna arrest me or come back with a warrant or whatever the hell it is you federals do then that's just fine--but 'til then, I'd like to kindly ask you to get your sorry ass off my property."

"Didn't sounds so kind to me," he said under his breath.

"What'd you say?" she asked, stepping forward aggressively. She was at least a head shorter than her brother, but like any Givens she was always ready for a fight.

"Alright Lila, I'll go; but if you change your mind, or if you just want to talk you give me a call," he said, offering her a business card. She scowled up at him for a moment, before ripping the card from his hand.

"Don't hold your breath," she muttered. She turned, letting the screen door slam behind her as she disappeared into the house. Raylan sighed, taking one last look into the shadows of the house before heading out.

About an hour passed, Lila sat still as a statue as she stared down at the card on her kitchen table. The sink nearby sat full of dirty water, the wrench she was using to try and fix it lay on the floor where she'd thrown it in frustration. She hadn't made another attempt, choosing instead to run through her meeting with Raylan a hundred different times. The sound of the screen door brought her back to reality, her head turning slightly as she heard someone in the hallway.

"Lila?" A male voice called.

"In here," she answered, chewing her lip as she turned her attention back to the card. She heard each boot-covered step as the man came down the hall before appearing in the archway holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a toolbox in the other. "Hey Boyd," she greeted, not looking up. Boyd Crowder emptied his hands on the table and sat down in the chair beside here.

He glanced over at the card on the table, "Somethin' troubling you darlin'?"

"My brother was here," she answered slowly. Boyd nodded knowingly.

"I thought it may be somethin' to that effect," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "my boy Dewey said he saw Raylan up at Ava's. I supposed it was only a matter of time before he made his way to your doorstep--though I must admit my surprise as to how quickly he seems to be moving."

"And what was Dewey Crowe doin' at Ava's exactly?" She asked, and Boyd smirked.

"Well of course he was just there to offer condolences." She finally looked over at him, a small smirk accompanying her skeptical gaze. "So, what did your brother want?" Boyd asked, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from the pack in his front shirt pocket.

"You," Lila replied bluntly.

Boyd lit the cigarette and took a deep draw, releasing the smoke slowly. "Well that does make a modicum of sense--mariticide don't really seem like the type of thing that catches the Marshalls' interest, typically."

"I didn't give him much of a chance to ask questions before I ran him off, but I'd imagine he wants information on what it is you've been up to with those Aryan bastards "

"That's likely so," he agreed, looking as calm as ever. Lil scowled.

"Ain't you even the slightest bit worried 'bout this? Raylan is a fed, Boyd. If he's snoopin' around askin' questions 'bout you--"

Boyd set his cigarette in an ashtray on the table and stood up, "It's alright darlin', don't rile yourself up over it." He said in his usual, soft tone. He patted her head as he passed, moving towards the fridge, "I'll take care of Raylan."

"But he shot a man just a few days ago--you saw it on the news, right?" Lila replied, turning in her chair to look at him. He pulled a bottle of whiskey off the top of the fridge, opening an cabinet to grab two glasses down. He poured two drinks, carrying them back and sitting down before sliding a glass over to her.

"So? I shot a man only this past evening--hardly seems like a thing to worry yourself sick over," he said, taking a long drink of the whisky as he picked up his cigarette. The burnt ash falling into the tray.

Lila hung her head, "Lord I know you did, and I can only thank God it was just some damn skinhead and not someone who didn't deserve it." She looked back up at him, concern in her eyes, "But that's not what I'm sayin' Boyd. You're a criminal, criminals shoot people. That's life. But Raylan ain't a criminal--he's a lawman, and lawman ain't typically in the habit of shootin' people dead."

"Well now, I don't know if that's the God's honest truth of it," Boyd pointed out, "But I catch you're meanin' well enough. If it comes down to blows between me and Raylan I may well end up on the wrong side of a bullet."

"Exactly! Ain't you even the slightest bit worried?" She asked him, her voice filled with concern.

"Not particularly," he replied, "But I can see it bothers you, so I suppose we'll have to deal with your brother sooner rather than later."

"What are you plannin' to do?" Lila asked.

Boyd lifted his glass, studying the amber liquid as he spoke, "Well, first I'm plannin' on finishing this glass." He said, shooting the rest of the whiskey down in one gulp, "Then, I'm gonna fix that sink of yours." He pointed across the kitchen to the backed up sink.

"But what about Raylan?" Lila questioned as she watched him out out the cigarette and stand.

"Well now that's where I'm gonna need you're help," he stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he spoke, "I'm gonna need you to head on over to the courthouse and have a little chat with your brother."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Don't cop to any of the bank robbin'--or the murder, of course. Just learn what you can 'bout what he's looking into, maybe see what he knows. And go ahead and tell him about the church--I'd be mighty fine to see him again."

"You sure?" Lila asked, glancing up at him.

"I'm certain, yes," he said, giving her shoulders a quick, affectionate squeeze, "Oh, and bring Lil with you when you go--that child needs to get out more." He added, turning his attention to the sink. Lila sighed, taking a shot of her whiskey before standing and making her way towards the door.

"Please do not tell me you're this weepy all 'cause of Bowman Crowder?" Lila asked, keeping here eyes on the road. Her arm rested on the door frame as her hand was stuck out of the cracked window; her fingers tapping the top of the truck in annoyance

"I know he was a bad person, but he was still good to me," the mousy girl in the passenger seat replied. Her long, tawny hair was braided down her back, keeping it from blowing in the wind that flowed through the cracked window. Her gray eyes looked down, staring intently at her interlaced hands.

"Now I love the Crowder's--they're family to me, you know that--and I owe my life to Boyd. But Lilith Marie, you can not sit there and tell me Bowman Crowder wasn't a piece of shit! Ain't no one gonna miss him--'cept you, apparently." Lila replied, giving the girl a look from the corner of her eye.

"I don't blame Ava for what she done--the good lord knows I'm the last person to judge her--but even so, Bowman helped me out back then and I--"

"Boyd and Bo helped you," Lila cut in, "Bowman was just there cause he hated your daddy."

Lily nodded solemnly, "Most people did, as I recall."

"That's 'cause your daddy was a piece of shit too goddamnit!" Lila yelled, smacking her hand on the steering wheel in frustration. "Any man lays hands on a woman deserves what's coming to 'em. You really gonna sit there and tell me you wallowed like you're doing now when you're daddy got his comeuppance? After all he did?" Lily just kept her eyes down, and Lila sighed. "Of course you did. Boyd was right--you do need to get out more."

The two woman sat in silence for a long while, the sound of the wind through the windows and the radio filling in for their lack of conversation. Lily stared out the window as Lila kept her eyes on the road, both lost in thought. 

With Lexington in view, Lila sighed.

"Alright look Lily, I ain't mad at you for feeling sad--but I need you to straighten up now. Boyd needs us to not fuck this up, you understand?" she said, looking over Lily.

"I don't even know why Boyd ask me to come along--what am I supposed to be doin'? I'm not good at talkin' like the two of you are." Lily questioned.

Lila scoffed, "Like I ever know what that man's thinking. Maybe he thinks if Raylan sees you it'll throw him off or somethin'. Or maybe he really did just want you to get out of the house--he worries for you, you know?" Lily shifted in her seat 

"I know," she answered quietly. 

The woman walked through the courthouse. Lila had at least had the good sense to change, though she still stood out with mini jean skirt and spaghetti strap top. Lily was dressed more modestly, in a cotton, floral sun dress the color of bluebells. Lila's heels clanked loudly on the stone floor, the sound echoing through the air. 

The stepped out of the elevator in front of the US Marshalls Office. Lila walked in confident strides as she bust through the door. Lily hurried behind her as close as she could be to the woman. Every head turned as the two woman entered. Lila put her hands on her hips as she stared them down.

"Where the hell is Raylan Givens?" she asked loudly. Hearing his name, Raylan peaked through the blinds of the back office, his head hanging in frustration as soon as he saw who was looking for him.

"What the hell Lila--I told you to call," Raylan said, stepping out of the office, "Not show up at my work."

"Well, I found myself Lexington and thought I'd stop by so we could have us a friendly little chat--unless you don't want to hear what I have to say? I can leave." Lila said, throwing her thumb back to point behind her. Raylan was about to respond, when he caught sight of Lily making herself as small as possible behind his sister.

"Who's that?" he asked, exasperated. Lila looked down at the young woman practically clinging to her, then looked back at her brother.

"Oh, you don't recognize her? Hardly surprising, seeing as you've been gone so long." she said, accusation in her tone.

"Don't give me that shit, you've been gone too," he replied.

"But I kept up with the people that was important to me, Raylan."

"That include Boyd?" he snapped back. 

"And what if it did? You only care 'bout it 'cause it's your job!" Lila was shouting now, and Raylan was clearly about to shout back when Raylan's boss, Art Mullen, step between them.

"Alright, I think we need to calm things down now," Art said, looking back and forth between the two of them. He looked over at Lila, "Now miss, if you wouldn't mind doing me the courtesy of telling me who you are exactly?"

"I'm Raylan's sister," she answered with a scowl.

"Well that tracks," Art muttered to himself, "And you miss?" Lily jumped, surprised to suddenly be addressed.

"Her name's Lilith Pierce," Lila answered for her. She was talking to Art, but she was looking at Raylan. His face twisted in surprise at hearing Lily's name, and when he saw his sister looking at him he turned his face away.

"I am aware of why you're here Miss Givens, but is there a reason you brought Miss Pierce along?"

Lila smiled, "She's Boyd's sister."

"Surrogate," Raylan added quickly.

"Strange Raylan didn't go questionin' her, don't you think Mr. boss man?" Lila said to Art, before looking over at her brother, "I wonder why that is?" Raylan's face tightened as his sister addressed him.

"Alright, that's enough," Art said. He turned to Raylan, speaking quietly, "You're bullshit's gonna be the death of me. Now get her in a room and get what you can out of her--and I swear if you hillbillies break anything--"

"Yeah, I got it," Raylan replied solemnly, "Come on Lila, let's get this over with." He gestured to the open door of one of the private rooms.

"What 'bout Lily? You don't wanna interrogate her too?" Lila asked, shooting him a smirk as she moved behind the young woman and placed her hands on her shoulders. Raylan's eyes met Lily's, before he quickly looked away.

"Tim?" Raylan called to a blonde man standing to the side. The man nodded.

"I've got it covered," Tim replied. He stepped out from behind his desk, making his way over to the two woman. "If you'll follow me, miss." He looked at Lily and gestured to a different empty room. The young woman blushed, looking up at her friend for confirmation.

Lila scowled at the man, giving him a once-over, "Yeah alright, go on then," she finally said, looking back down at Lily.

The two woman split, each following a deputy into separate interrogation rooms.

[awaterfalls]

Tim Gutterson

"Miami to The Holler"

Summary: Lia Martines transferred shortly after Raylan Givens from Miami to the Lexington U.S. Marshall courthouse only to be met with disdain from Tim Gutterson. After an undercover stakeout to catch a drug transport went south, feelings come to a head.

A/N: OC Intro: Lia Martines, Tim GuttersonX!FemaleUSMarshall, She/Her Pronouns, Angst, Enemies to Lovers.

• Hey guys! This is my first time ever posting something I write here. I hope you guys like it!! I want to thank my amazing, incredible, espetacular friend, Nat @she-wolf09231982.. thank you for helping me with these! ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How can I begin to explain the situation I find myself in? Well, I'll from the beginning. Before becoming a U.S. Marshall, I always thought it would be easy. Just like in the movies. You shoot people and make arrests. But it's totally different. I was a U.S. Marshall for the Miami department when I met Raylan Givens. He already had a reputation, but even a bigger one after he had his showdown with the big drug king, Tommy Bucks, shooting him down for not leaving the city like he had asked him.

Our superiors arranged for Raylan to be transferred away from high profile Miami to Eastern Lexington, Kentucky. I soon followed in his footsteps looking for a quieter life in the country. I transferred to Harlan, Kentucky and it was terrifying. Being a newbie in a place you know is bad enough, imagine being in a place you don't know... It was a nightmare. It was bad in some parts, in fact, but one person made the environment worse. Tim Gutterson is my partner at work. Basically, we're assigned to do everything together. All the missions... everything. In addition to Tim, I also have Rachel and Raylan, but Tim was the most annoying.

Since I arrived here, he has always picked flights with me and done everything to show that he didn't like me. And because of this, every time we had a mission together, Art would lecture us saying he would destroy us if we messed up and how much it would ruin our careers. I never thought this day would come, but it did. Art had gone over the details of our next undercover stakeout.

" Martines and Gutterson, you are going to stay at the hotel where the supposed drug dealers are lying in wait. Lucky for you, they're not very smart and probably don't know that we're after them. But it's still important that you be cautious and avoid any kind of confusion, ok? You guys know how important this is to us, so don't screw it up."

That's what Art told us before we were sent to this hotel. Basically, Tim and I were to pretend to be a couple and staying at the hotel where the suspected drug dealers were, so that we can collect as much evidence as possible and arrest them. It's something quite easy. After all, it's just a few days away from Harlan, watching two people. Easy... That's what I thought.

Tim and I arrived at the hotel on a Monday and settled in as best we could. We arrived the day of the mission, so we had to be quick.

"Are you ready? We don't all day." Tim said looking at me irritated while letting out a bored sigh.

" Are you that excited to be my husband?" I said smiling and he rolled his eyes.

"The day I get excited about doing anything with you, you can be sure that I was abducted... I'll wait for you in the car." He said, leaving without giving me the chance to respond.

He's an idiot. I wonder what I did to make him hate me so much. I met him in the car and we were soon on our way to where we believed a drug deal was going down. The journey was long and tedious. He didn't say anything and neither did I... It was irritating me.

"So what were you doing before all this?" I asked breaking the silence.

I've always been curious about him. I always asked about the lives of everyone around me. And I've also always been an open book to everyone. When I met Tim that all changed. Because of our relationship we never spoke, but something about him always intrigued me. People talked about him and what he did before, but I wanted to hear it from him. He looked at me sideways but didn't respond. It seems like he was thinking about whether or not to respond. His face had an expression of doubt mixed with anger. I don't know how to explain what I felt when I saw him like that.

" What does this have to do with what we're doing now?" He snapped before continuing. " Why are you so interested in knowing? All this time you've been here, the only thing you've done is insult me and now you're interested in my past? And let's be honest, right? As if you didn't know, I'm sure Rachel or Raylan told you about me. Please, let's stop pretending we care about each other. I want to do the work and go home, be at peace and not hear your annoying voice." Ok, that one hurt.

It was always like this with him. Every time I tried to talk to him or try to clear the air, he always verbally attacked me. He didn't give me a chance to get close to him.

"Why did I always react like this, Tim?" You thought to yourself before spoke up. " Every time I try to get closer to you, you always push me away. There's always something bad to say. I never did anything to make you treat me this way. I don't know anything about your life. I have nothing against you. But for some reason you seem to hate me. I don't understand. Why do you treat me like this? What did I do wrong? People around us speak very highly of you, they say you're a great guy. But you prove me wrong every day. The question I asked wasn't intended to provoke you, but you're right, I did already know what you did or what you were before here, but I wanted to hear from you. Because I like you. I know that despite everything, you are a good man. But I'm tired of proving myself every day to someone who doesn't care about me. I'm sorry for bothering you so much and I promise I will never talk to you about non-work topics again." You finalized. It really was very tiring. I always tried really hard to get closer to him, but he never let me. It's tiring to fight over something you don't know for what or why.

We continued the journey in silence. Everyone in their own thoughts. At least the landscape was beautiful. This is a beautiful place, the nature around everything leaves me at peace. I was taken out of my thoughts by an abrupt bang. A car just hit us from behind, causing us to be projected forward sharply. We didn't have time to think, as the passengers in the other car started shooting at us. Tim and I did what we could to defend ourselves taking ducking inside our vehicle. There were so many of them firing that I didn't even know where they were coming from anymore. As we returned the fire, we managed to hit one of them, because we had heard a scream as their car came to a screeching halt. As we cautiously approached their car, they opened fire again. Tim pulled me back behind our car to take cover. The fire fight didn't last very long, as they left when they saw that we were outnumbered. We definitely got one of them right.

Tim looked at me with concern.

"Are you okay? Your forehead is bleeding." I hadn't noticed. The adrenaline was so much that I went blind. It was probably when we were thrown sharply at the time of the crash. I remember hitting my head somewhere, but I couldn't quite see where.

"Oh, I'm fine." You said touching your forehead where it hurt. " It's no big deal. We need to let Art know they found us. We can leave it like this. " I said taking my cell phone when Tim snatched it out of my hand.

" Are you crazy? You're hurt and the only thing you care about is this shitty mission? We're going to the hospital. The work can wait and I'm sure Art can too." He said pulling me into the car.

The ride to the hospital was quiet. Tim didn't say a word to me, but I could tell he was worried. Obviously, it wasn't about me, it was about the mission and probably what Art was going to tell us. I was too, because ruining everything wasn't in the plans, but life isn't always the way we want it to be. We arrived at the hospital and while I was waiting to be seen, Tim went to call the office and explain what happened. The nurse called me and immediately started cleaning my wound. I had forgotten how much it hurt. It wasn't anything serious, but I had to get two stitches on my forehead. Another scar for the collection. Yay!

When we left the hospital, Tim informed me that Art was already aware of what had happened and that he was going to send us back up the next morning and that we were to stay at the hotel and wait for them. We got back to the room and I went straight to take a shower. Tim seemed weird, more than usual. It was as if he was bothered by something beyond himself. I don't know how to explain. But I won't dare to ask, the last time I asked him something, I almost got shot. I got out of the shower and left the bathroom, Tim wasn't in the room. I could've waited for him or even called, but I couldn't stay awake for long so I went straight to bed. I needed to lie down and rest. My head was hurting so much and these thoughts never left me alone. What do you need to do to have a little peace? To die? Perhaps yes. But it wasn't my time yet. I fell asleep like a rock.

Around down, I woke up scared. I had a nightmare.

"Damn it! I hate these kinds of dreams. I don't have any peace even when I sleep. " I thought to myself. I turned to the side and found Tim sleeping.

"Okay... He's sleeping with me... In the same bed as me... Wtf? It's the end of the world." I thought. I couldn't help but notice how serene he was. His mouth forming a pout, it looked like a baby. The messy hair... He's beautiful. Asleep and awake. "Stop staring at me and go back to sleep." Tim mumbled at me. It scared the shit out of me. How does he know I was looking at him if he had his eyes closed?

" How do you know I'm staring at you?" he smiled. A beautiful smile, I must say. " I know everything you do, Lia. " It was the first time he called me by my name. And it sounded so beautiful in his voice.

" Okay... You're weird! And I wasn't looking at you, I was just checking to see if you were breathing, that's all. " I said, trying not to seem so obvious, even though I had the impression that he already realized how stupid I was looking at him. And once again he smiled. What possessed him to keep smiling like that?

"Lia, you don't fool me. I know everything you do. I know what you like and don't like. I know how much you love chewing gum because it helps you stay calm throughout the day. I know you like to tease Raylan that the coffee he buys is horrible, even though it's from the same place that Rachel and I buy it. I know you twitch your lip when something bothers you. I know you wear the same leather boots to work because they bring you luck. I know the place you love most in the world is your home and yes, that's cliché. " He paused to take a breath before continuing. "But that's okay, I'm not judging. I know you. I've noticed you since the day you set foot in that office. It felt like an angel entering hell. I couldn't take my eyes off you, but I had to contain myself because I didn't want you to notice. Damn Lia, I always paid attention to you. The moment I understood that I like you, that I was in love with you, I panicked. What would a woman like you want with a guy like me? I thought you weren't a woman for me, because I always thought you deserved better than this... But today... Lia, today I almost had a heart attack. I thought I was going to lose you... I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. This makes me see how much time I wasted leaving you out of my life. Lia, I want to apologize for treating you so badly all this time. I was in a state of denial and the only way I found to keep you away from me was to treat you the way I did. I thought you would realize how stupid I am and leave me alone, but you always came back and I somehow, always came back to you. My thoughts most of the time, are you. Damn, I really hope you can forgive me. I really do." He explained.

Okay... He threw all this at me and I don't know what to say. I'm confused. This entire time I thought he hated me... But he actually likes me? My gosh! This is a lot for me.

"Tim, I don't know what to say... I'm confused. I mean, you like me? I really don't know what to say. And of course I forgive you. And I care about you too. I like you. I'm just puzzled because I always thought you hated me. Never in my life would I think of you telling me those things." I said as he looked at me relieved.

We stared at each other for a few seconds until he pulled me towards him and hugged me. It was a sincere and totally affectionate hug. It felt like home. I felt comfortable in his touch. He smells so good... Like heaven. A smell I could easily get used to. We held each other all night and I never felt so good. Tim wouldn't let me go, not even to go to the bathroom. He said he didn't want to waste any time with me ever again. And to be honest, neither do I. I can't wait to tell Rachel this.

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Guys!!!! It's a very long one shot... I really hope you guys like it! Also, English is not my first language so please be nice, ok? Thank you!! ❤️

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Eleven

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Author Master List

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER: Eleven

Elenora was happy at this moment. Between her starting work at the school and Tim’s work with the Marshal’s they had little time together over the last bit. Mainly, they had been staying at their respective residences and meeting up for coffee in the morning together, if time allowed. But now, now Tim was spinning her around the dance floor of some dingy bar outside of Lexington. Some of his friends from the army had invited Tim and Elenora out to listen to an Alabama cover band.

When the current song had ended, Tim had dipped Elenora low to the ground. Letting out a laugh, Tim hoisted her back up and put his lips on hers. It all felt like she was a teenager again. Making out on the dance floor.

“GET A ROOM!” Came a shout from one of Tim’s friends and Elenora just laughed as she pulled away from Tim to head back to the table. Tim, however, seemed to have a different idea and instead pulled Elenora back to him and once again claimed her mouth with his own. The kiss was passionate and Elenora felt her knees go weak, but Tim held her to him until finally he pulled his lips off of hers.

The two of them headed back to the table the group was sat at and Tim pulled Elenora into his lap when he sat down. Wrapping his arm around her and setting his hand down on her skirt covered thigh.

“Who would have thought Gutterson would have found someone as crazy as him?” Said one of the guys from across the table.

“You calling me crazy?” Elenora said with a large smile as she reached for her beer.

“Honestly, it is just nice to know you are real. We thought he was making you up. Arresting some naked girl in a fountain and then hooking up with her.”

Elenora looked back at Tim with wide eyes. “Is that what you told them?”

“I might have embellished a little.” Tim said, a sly smile on his face as he grabbed his own beer. He took a swig, and Elenora felt him settle back in his chair.

“As long as you haven’t been showin’ ‘em that picture.”

“Gutterson, you holdin’ out on us?” Another one of the men, Steven, asked with a laugh.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna see that one but me,” Said Tim. He turned his head and looked at Elenora. The look he was giving her was hard to decipher. She could not quite figure out what he was thinking while he looked at her.

Pulling her eyes away from him, Elenora looked at Tim’s friends. “So you said crazy like him? What kind of stories you got for me?”

It was about an hour later when Elenora, who was dancing with Steven and watched as Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She did not miss the way he looked at the caller ID and then at her with a frown. After he got off the phone, he made his way down to the dance floor just as the song was ending.

“We gotta’ go. Art called. Your grandfather is hiding out in the vet’s bar and Art and your daddy can’t get in to talk to him.”

“Gotta go to show that super hero card of yours?” Tim’s friend asked.

“Yup.” Tim was holding Elenora’s purse on his arm and used the other to present to Elenora. “I got the tab, so I’m ready to go when you are.”

Elenora took her purse from Tim and smiled at Steven. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Any time. You keep Gutterson in check there okay, it’s nice having him back at the meetings.”

When they hit the interstate, Elenora settled herself against the door so she could look at Tim. “I had fun tonight. Your friends are nice.”

“They’re assholes, but nice assholes at least,” Replied Tim. His left hand gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry, I had to cut it short for work. Was really looking forward to taking you home tonight.”

“Well, we will have a three-hour drive back after this. I’m sure we could make a pit stop somewhere.” Elenora wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Tim just let out a chuckle. “So, how do you wanna play this out when we get there? Am I hiding in the back, or are we coming up with some excuse as to why we are arriving together?”

“Honestly, I was just thinking we tell the truth. We went out with some friends for drinks out of town, and I wasn’t just gonna leave you there.” Tim looked at Elenora. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun watching your daddy squirm. He’s been asking lately if I’ve met this guy of yours. He says he is trying to be good and leave you be. Let you tell him when you’re ready.”

Elenora pulled up a leg and tucked it under herself as she watched Tim. “I’m impressed. He said he would give me some space. Didn’t realize you two were becoming so friendly to one another.”

The rest of the drive was filled with silence and idle chitchat, mostly to keep the both of them awake and focused, and once they got close, Elenora found her palms beginning to sweat and her heart began to beat fast. “Tim, I don’t know if I can do this...”

“If you want to stay in the vehicle, you can. Just climb in the back seat and get some sleep. I saw you driftin’ off over there, as much as I appreciate you stayin’ awake with me. You can rest Nell.”

They were within the town limits now, so Elenora unbuckled her seat belt and slipped through the center and into the back seat. Laying herself down on the fabric, she tucked her arm under her head and sighed. “This is kind of nice, actually.”

“We’re coming up on it now. I’ll try not to be too long.”

“Okay.” Whispered Elenora as she closed her eyes. It was a minute or so later when she felt the vehicle come to a stop and Tim opened the door, hopping out.

She could hear footsteps outside and then Art’s voice. “We interrupt anything?”

“I’ve been off the clock since five, so...”

“You drunk?” Art asked, his voice now sounding further away.

“I was headed in that direction, till this detour...”

Then it was just quiet. The only noises Elenora could hear were the passing vehicles and so she let herself drift away to sleep.

When Art Mullen had gotten up that morning, he decided that unlike every other morning he was going to try something different, there was a coffee shop on the other side of the Marshal’s office that Elenora had told him about. She liked to study there, she said, it had an amazing brown sugar espresso. She thought he would like it, but Art just never seemed to find the time. Today, however, he had decided to find the time. It was early, six am, but Art knew they would be open from his prior conversations with Elenora.

So there he sat in a booth at the back. Coffee cooling on the table and a newspaper fanned out in front of him. He had been focusing on the international news section when he heard Elenora’s laugh echo through the quite busy building. So when he had looked up, he had expected her to be laughing at something the young man behind the counter had said, but instead she was wrapped in his youngest deputy’s arms.

Art picked up the paper in front of him slowly and held it up slightly as to partially cover his face as he watched the two. He could only see Tim’s back, but he knew it was him, by the hair, stature and pistol at the man’s hip. Elenora was leaning against his side, her head on his shoulder, and his arm was resting along her back and hip. She had a large briefcase bag on her shoulder, signaling she must be on her way to work. Art watched as they waited in line, talking to each other in what appeared to be easy conversation. When they turned to head to the pickup counter, Art raised the paper and instead watched their reflection in the large windows of the shop. He watched as Elenora stood herself chest to chest with Tim and the two kissed, with Tim’s hands moving to the back of her neck.

So this was it, he thought, the great mystery of who Elenora was seeing. He knew he should not be surprised. He had a feeling something was happening ever since the night Elenora was attacked in the parking lot. Leslie had told him when Tim dropped Elenora off, he had stuck around for a bit, sitting on the bed and just watching her sleep. She had said it was the way Tim brushed the hair out of Elenora’s face that told her that Tim was in love with her. Art wondered for how long it had been happening, and how they had been able to keep it so hidden, considering they had no qualms about going out in public together.

When Tim had shown up drunk and seemed not too keen on the fact he had been disturbed, Art wondered if that meant he had been spending the evening with Elenora. The young mans plaid shirt open, revealing his undershirt, was an unkempt, relaxed look Art was not used to seeing. That was a thought for later, however, as the three Marshal’s sat themselves down at Arlo Givens table.

“How did you get in?” Arlo asked as he eyed Raylan.

“Deputy Gutterson served in Afghanistan.” Raylan said simply as he motioned to Tim. Art watched the way Tim’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the older man.

“He a mess-hall cook?” Arlo asked with a laugh.

Leaning back in his chair matched Arlo’s stare. “Sniper in the Rangers.”

Arlo looked Tim over. “So, he’s the shit. The Afghan war, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim replied.

“Yes, sir. I like that. Yes, sir.” Arlo spoke, his voice sounding somewhat amiable but also mocking. “So, what can I do for ya’ll?”

“We’re interested in Boyd Crowder.” Art began.

“Isn’t he out in the woods, uh, running a revival or something?” Arlo asked as he sat back in his seat.

Art leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Yeah, but we want to know if he’s helping Bo Crowder and if Bo’s reestablishing his business.”

Arlo just scuffed. “Why would I know any of that?”

“Because you ran Bo’s protection-and-collection business while he was in prison.” Raylan said simply, as if it was well known news.

“I what?” The sarcasm rolled off Arlo in waves, and Art could tell this was not going to go well for them.

“You deny it?” Asked Art as he narrowed his eyes at Arlo.

“Hell, yes, I deny it. That’s crazy. Why on earth would Bo do something like that?”

That seemed to be enough for Raylan as the man stood up from his seat. The chair legs scratched across the floor from the force. “Okay. We’re done here.”

“Mr. Givens, what we need you to consider...” Tim spoke after minutes of silence, but he was interrupted as Raylan grabbed the back of Arlo’s chair and his face appeared next to his fathers.

“What I’m supposed to say is, we know you ran Bo’s protection racket into the dirt. So it doesn’t take a prophet to see the future from here.” This caused Arlo to stand from his seat, with Art and Tim following suit. “Okay. You can either sit around, waiting to catch a bullet or...”

“What?” Arlo asked his son, the disdain dripping from his voice.

“Or you can accept protection from the Marshal’s Service.”

“How about we talk about my granddaughter. That Crowder kept her hidden from you, from me. Wonder if she turned out like you, an arrogant self righteous ass?”

“Don’t you talk about my daughter.” Raylan spoke as he pointed a finger towards his father. “How about instead we talk about Helen? You gonna forgive yourself if she gets caught in the crossfire, hmm?”

“You are no longer welcome here. Any of you.” Arlo spoke, turning around and looking to Art and Tim. “Tell the truth.” Arlo began as he looked back at Raylan. “You didn’t honestly think you could turn me.”

Raylan pushed his hat down a little farther on his head and sighed. “I came here as an officer of the law, because sometimes we have to make deals with lowlifes because we have our sights set on life-forms even somehow lower on the ladder of lowlifes than they. And why would you ever think I would let you anywhere near my daughter?”

The slap that sounded as Arlo’s palm connected with Raylan’s face was loud in the silence of the bar, and Art had to stick an arm out to hold Tim back as the young man pushed forward to intervene. Unsure if it was the why Arlo was talking about Elenora or the booze he had drank prior. It honestly was probably a little of both. “Mr. Givens, we’re taking down the Crowders, and you can either go with them or not.” Art said simply as he watched Raylan storm away from the group.

When Art got outside, he was greeted by the sound of his cell phone going off, and the sound of Raylan’s. Then, as Tim appeared beside him, the young Marshal’s as well. The three looked at each other before Art opened the phone to see a message reading ‘double murder, think it was Boyd taking out more cookers.’ There was also an address attached.

Art looked at Tim and then at Raylan. “I’m gonna ride with Deputy Gutterson. Raylan lead the way.” Raylan headed off to the car, and Art walked to stand next to Tim. “You and I need to have a talk on this ride.”

“Sir...” Tim began as he fished his keys out of his pocket and looked from Art to the SUV and back again. “There is something you should know.”

“I got a pretty good guess, son.”

“Well, then at least, be quiet cause she’s sleepin’.” Said Tim with a sigh as he and Art moved toward the vehicle and each carefully opened the doors and got in. Without waiting for Art to even do his seat belt up, Tim pulled out of the parking lot and headed out.

Once they were on the move, Art turned to look in the backseat, and there, curled up under Tim’s blue Marshal’s jacket, was Elenora. Fast asleep, using her hands that were laying palm to palm as a pillow. When he brought his head back to look at Tim, he found the young man staring out the windshield leaned back with one hand on the steering wheel.

“How long?”

“Since the night before she got the apartment.” Said Tim simply.

“So that story you guys told, when Wallace had her?”

“Mostly true. Didn’t actually catch her in the fountain. Met her at the bar, she asked me for a favor to help with getting the place. We’ve been going steady since,” Tim said casually as he continued to stare at the taillights of Raylan’s car.

“Steady?” Art questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Tim let his head lean to the right, and he let out a sigh. “Yeah, steady.”

“So, this thing is serious?”

“Yup.” Said Tim before glancing back towards Elenora. “Nell, you still sleepin’?” When now reply came, Tim pointed towards the glove box and gave Art a pointed look. “Open it.”

Art did as he was told and reached forward to release the latch. Looking inside, he strained against the dim light of the cab, but he could make out a few loose pieces of paper, a notepad, a box of condoms, which he raised an eye at and a small black box. Plucking it from the depths of the dark hole, Art held it in his hands and looked at Tim. “Is this what I think it is?”

“We went to some house party, a graduation thing at one of her friends. I saw her there with her friends, having fun, a smile on her face. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. We talked a little on the porch. She asked me what I was thinkin’ about, and honestly, I was imagining her leavin’ me. Cause before that, all night, all I could think about was growin’ old next to her. Didn’t think about work, not about the war, just her.” He rocked his head back and forth for a second. “Next day, I bought that.”

Art stared down at a thin gold band, with a large round cut diamond and a scattered halo of about a dozen small diamonds. “Tim...”

“Raylan doesn’t know.”

Art closed the ring box and put it carefully back in the glove compartment. “I figured seeing as how you don’t have a bullet hole in you. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Art, I wanna marry that girl back there. I just don’t know how to ask her daddy’s permission.”

Chapter Twelve

[emily-strange]

MORE TIM FANFICTION PLEASE AND THANK YOU I'M HOLDING ON BY A THREAD HERE.

[roleplayfinder]

hey hey! 💛✨ i’m 21+, my pronouns are she/her and i’m looking for anyone who’s seen the show justified and wants to write it.

specifically, i’d love to write tim gutterson. romantically, i’d love to pair him with a male character from the show. the most logical option is raylan givens, but i’d also love boyd crowder or anyone else you can think of! i’d also be okay with a male oc. platonically, i could write him against rachel or anyone else you’d like! like this and i’ll hit you up to plot. i have a few ideas but i’d love to hear your takes as well <3

.

[maraskywalkers]

okay so earlier to distract myself from the upcoming new 911 episode I was working on my mockup of an instagram account for my OC June Gutterson (who I referenced in a previous post)

but long story short she's Tim's much younger half sister (like 15/16 during the show? born when he was about 15/16, if I've done my math right but also what is the Justified timeline??)

so here anyway have this thing I made on Canva

[smurphyse]

Shitkicker Country | Tim Gutterson

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 8 of Death From Above

Warnings: arguments, shootings, murder

Summary: Tim and Hilly finally meet Marty and Devon Cox

Hilly didn't say much on the way down to Harlan. After making sure Abby was okay Tim walked her back to her office and came back upstairs and Hilly did nothing but avoid his gaze. 

She glared out the window as they drove, checking her phone every ten minutes or so. It kept ringing, and each time she checked who it was before grumbling and turning off the screen. 

"You wanna get that?" he asked, and she gave him a confused look so he pointed at the phone in her lap. "It ain't gonna stop buzzin' just because you ignore it."

She rolled her eyes and looked out the windshield, crossing her arms over her chest and scooting further down in the seat, "It's not important."

"Must be if they keep calling."

"Mind your business, Gutterson," she snapped. 

Tim blew out a breath and puffed his cheeks. Her face was red as she stewed, and he could feel the rage coming from her in waves. But, Tim always liked to poke the bear, and he liked sparring with Hilly.

"You okay? I mean yesterday you wouldn't shut the hell up and askin' me ques-," he started, but she turned in the seat and slapped the center console.

"What about you?" she spat as they slowed to a stop sign. 

Her eyes glittered with the fight she was ready to have, full of anger and something else that Tim couldn't quite pin down. 

"What about me?" he asked defensively. He slapped the truck into park and glared right back at her. 

"Are you okay? I mean, having a baby with your ex can't exactly be the highlight of your week after sleeping with your coworker," she growled back, leaning in and curling her lip as she glowered. 

"Is that what this is about? I didn't tell you and you're pissed we slept together?"

"I don't give a shit about your personal life." Hilly poked his chest, and it sent the anger boiling in his own belly. Tim hated being poked. "Stop worrying about mine."

"Fine!" he yelled in her face, and even though she looked angry, he could see the excitement in her eyes. 

"Fine!" she yelled back, and fuck, did Tim want to kiss her. 

If this had been any other situation, he would have loved to grab her by the hair and drag her into the back of the cab. He'd fuck her stupid, and she'd thank him, but… he couldn't do that, not with her. 

Her phone rang again, and she looked down at it with a hardly contained snarl. Hilly swiped the screen and held it up to her ear, "Gerry, I swear to god, you call me one more time and I'm coming back to Washington to beat the shit out of you."

"Well, at least then I'd see you!" a man's voice came through the other end. He sounded pissed, a bit hurt, and Tim felt something tighten in his chest. "Margaret, just talk to me, we can work this-."

Margaret? Oh, he wanted to ask about that. Who the hell was Gerry? Why didn't he call her by her name? 

Maybe it was her first name, but she preferred her middle one. But even then, why make a nickname out of a nickname? And why let him call her that?

She hung up and turned off the ringer, then tossed it into the backseat without a second glance. Turning toward Tim, she gave him a look that said, I fucking dare you, ask me about it. 

He could never resist a dare.

“Frank on your chest,” he mused, waving a hand. “Gerry on your phone. My notch on your bedpost. Got a nice little catalog of exes, huh?”

“Fuck you.” 

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked with a cheeky grin, mirroring her words from last night. 

Hilly squinted at him, her cheeks mottled with rage and frustration, "You wanna talk about Abby? How about whatever Art was yelling at you about this morning?"

"No."

"There's your answer, then."

Tim snapped the truck back into drive, and they made the rest of the way down to Harlan in pained silence. He found himself wanting to apologize, but the pissed off grunts that left her each time he glanced her way made him decide against it.

Tim grew up with a strict respect towards women. His mother had instilled it in him from the beginning- always open her door, never say anything untoward, be kind and courteous, Timmy, you never know what a woman's been through. 

He didn't like not talking to Hilly, and he especially didn't like her angry with him. He knew it wasn't really him she was mad at, but probably Gerry and his incessant phone calls.

Still, that southern gentleman his mother had made him open his mouth to speak anyways as they pulled into Marty Cox's driveway, but she pointed and interrupted him. 

"There," she said, and he saw it too. The slight bouncing of a curtain after someone lets it fall. "Someone's home."

Tim angled the truck on autopilot to give them the best defense in case of shit hitting the fan. He and Hilly hopped out of the cab with hands on holsters and caution in their bones. Something felt off, and for a split second Tim almost wanted to tell her to get back in the truck. 

Hilly's body was coiled and ready for a fight as they ascended the steps of the trailer. She stood a few steps behind him, her dark gaze flicking around to see everything she could. 

"Marty," Tim called as he knocked on the door. "U.S. Marshal Ser-."

Gunfire erupted through the door, and Tim and Hilly quickly twisted to each side as they pulled their guns from their hips. Tim sighed and called out again, "Dammit, Marty! We just wanna talk!"

"Fuck you!" a man's voice came through, then a sharp yelp Tim recognized as female. "Don't you come in here. I got a gun!"

"Yeah, no shit," Hilly muttered, rolling her eyes. Tim cocked his head at her, and she waved to motion that she was going around the back. 

"Put it down and we can forget all about this, man," Tim tried, but then he heard a smack and a cry. The blood boiled in his ears at the sound, and he hoped he waited the appropriate amount of time to kick in the door for Hilly to go through the back one. 

The frame splintered as his boot hit it, caving in the area around the door handle. Tim stormed inside with his gun drawn only to find Devon Cox dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood and Marty holding a gun to his brother's wife's head. Blood trickled from her temple where Marty must have hit her with the gun, and it dripped from the handle of the 9mm glock in his hand. 

His eyes were wild as he tightened his grip on the petrified woman, who had her own clamped shut in terror as he swung her in front of his body. Tim sighed and cocked his head at him, “What did you do, Marty?”

“He was comin’ to git me,” the man babbled crazily. “They both was. They brought you here!”

Tim could tell Marty was on something by the needles and liquor bottles littering the coffee and side tables. He swallowed thickly as he spotted a Ranger tattoo on his forearm and held out his own arm to show him.

“I came to help you, brother. See?” Tim asked, flashing his own tattoo. “You just let her go and put the gun down. I’ll get you right.”

Tim didn’t hear or see Hilly until she swung just into view enough for him to meet her eye. Tim kept his on Marty. “I’ll get you right, brother. Let’s go, okay?”

Marty’s crackhead shaking made no difference to the gun in his hand. He was a Ranger, and though he was corked out of his mind, his finger laid firmly on the trigger. He’d lost too much weight to ever be considered for active duty again, and Tim recalled that in his file he’d been blown up with an IED outside of Kandahar. 

“I… think I did something bad,” he whispered, tears filling his haunted eyes. 

“Give me the gun, Marty,” Tim said again, holding out his hand. He wanted to help this man, because he knew exactly what he was going through. Everything was jarring and terrifying, familiar and starkly new at the same time. Coming home from war was like coming back to a memory that kept changing. 

Marty shook his head, and Tim barely had time to brace himself before his arm whipped out. The gun swayed in the air, a split second of time hanging in slow motion. The flash of the muzzle exploded, and Tim was blasted back as a bullet hit his vest.

He landed heavily on his back on the porch, and another gunshot rang out. It felt like he’d been punched by Bigfoot, and Tim could smell the tang-coppery scent of blood as he coughed like a two pack a day smoker. 

He looked up through bleary eyes. Marty Cox let go of his sister in law and clutched his hand, the gun clattering to the floor. He screamed, and Hilly’s sneaker flashed up to roundhouse kick him in the nose. Though she was tiny, she was all coiled muscle and pure strength, and Marty lifted in the air for a second before slamming back down on his back. 

Hilly was on him in a second, cuffing his broken and bleeding wrists and twisting him onto his belly. She picked up the gun and the woman, helped her out onto the porch. She hyperventilated as Hilly plopped her into a rocking chair and requested a bus through her phone, letting out a screeching wail and sobbing into her knees.

“Tim,” Hilly huffed as she dropped to her knees next to him. She patted his face a few times until his eyes locked onto hers.

Tim grinned weakly, “I can see down your shirt.”

Hilly let out an exhausted laugh and scrubbed her face roughly with her hands. She sat back on her knees and groaned, “Oh, fuckin’ A.”

“Y’ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy,' Tim chuckled, then grunted in pain. He made a face and tore away the vest, coughing once more as the constricting garment released him. “Oh, that fuckin’ hurt.”

Hilly held out a hand so he could sit up, and he took it easily. She reached under the hem of his shirt collar and pulled it down, wincing audibly, “You’re gonna bruise, hillbilly. Least he didn’t ruin that pretty face.”

She gave his cheek a light slap, and Tim swatted at her. Tim could hear sirens in the distance as he watched her, grinning even though he’d just been shot. She smiled back, swallowing thickly and then glanced away.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, and she nodded to herself. Hilly broke out in a giggle, slapping her hand over her face. “What? What could possibly be funny right now?”

“Oh, nothing,” she began before bursting into laughter once more. “It’s just… I’m glad they didn’t kill the best lay I’ve had in over a year. It’d be a real shame.”

Tim found himself laughing alongside her until the cop cars pulled down the drive. It was the first time he’d laughed like that in years, and despite the likely broken ribs he had, he wanted to laugh like that with Hilly every chance he got. 

Art was pissed. 

After manhandling both Hilly and Tim to inspect for further injuries, he cornered them against a cop car and yelled as they stood in awkward silence. 

“What did I say? ‘No incidents!’” Hilly watched with wide eyes as the vein in his forehead pulsed so hard she half expected it to burst. 

“Technically…” she said slowly, holding out a finger. “You said ‘no international incidents.’ I hardly think that shitkicker country counts as the United Nations.”

Tim huffed a laugh, quickly palming his jaw as Art’s face turned a dangerous shade of plum. He set one hand on his ample hip and pointed at her, “I was told you were one of the best in your office, the most competent. They didn’t tell me you were fucking nuts.”

Hilly shrugged, “Everyone lies on their resumes, chief.”

Art’s point turned to a shaky palm directed at her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let it fall, sighing, “Did you have to shoot and kick him?”

“I disarmed and incapacitated him. What else was I supposed to do?” 

Art turned to Tim, “And you. Friday you punched an FBI Agent and this week you try to negotiate with a crackhead. What the hell is runnin’ through your peanut brain?”

Tim shrugged next to her, “Not much, chief.”

Hilly turned to Tim in amusement. “You punched an FBI Agent? A man after my own heart.”

“‘S what happens when you poke me in the chest,” he said pointedly, and Hilly’s cheeks heated up as she recalled doing the same thing to him earlier. “Bear comes out.”

Art looked between them in exasperation, shaking his head. “I just want one calm week. Can I please have that?”

Hilly saluted him playfully, but it only made him redder. “We’ll try again next week, sir. This one’s shot to shit.”

Art scoffed and stomped off toward the thick of police cars and the coroner’s van. Tim and Hilly exchanged amused glances as Raylan and Rachel quickly took his place. 

"Well, well," Raylan drawled as he ambled up behind Rachel, his hand stuffed in his pockets. "Don't you two make quite the pair?"

"You really punch an FBI Agent?" Rachel scolded, reaching out and pinching Tim's arm. 

He shrugged and looked down at his hands, all the snark gone. "He's fine. Art smoothed it over."

"I say we celebrate," Raylan decided, smirking at them both. "Let's hit Smokey's for a drink."

"I’m down,” Hilly agreed, chancing a glance at Tim. She elbowed him, “Give me a ride?”

"You're outta luck," he said, shaking his head. "I got a thing to do."

Hilly didn't like the disappointment that settled in her gut, but she flashed him a cheeky grin anyway, "Your loss, Gutterson."

"In that case, I'll be honored to give you a ride," Raylan said, sidling up beside her. He hip checked her and gave her a smirk, so Hilly turned to Rachel. 

"First round is on me if you get me the hell out of here."

Rachel gave Raylan a side eye before reaching out a hand for Hilly to take. Hilly clasped it tightly and let Rachel lead the way through the throng of cherries and blueberries. 

"Word to the wise," Rachel muttered as they walked, "that boy brings nothing but trouble along with him."

"Which one?"

Rachel chucked and shook her head, "Take your pick."

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: Sorry this took me so long! I got totally in my head about this story and I just needed a break.

[deputy-buck]

Intro & Masterlist

Buck, M, 21, gay-aro, he/him. Anons are always on, requests always open

Interests:

Fellow Travelers

UFC (FreeStream link)

Generation Kill

The Pacific

Band of Brothers

Justified

Various Discovery Channel shows: Gold Ruch, Parker's Trail, Street Outlaws, No Prep Kings

Frequently Used Tags:

Buck Builds (Full-Assed Creations)

Buck Brawls (Half-Assed Creations + Rambling)

Buck Backtalks (Answering Asks)

Personal (For... Personal things?)

i don't know who's more stupid‚ queue or the hick (Queue Tag)

Ao3: Deputy_Buck

FT

Fetch (Hawk/Tim, Fellow Travelers)

GK

Sold For Temporary Use (Brad/Ray, Gen Kill)

Gracious (Christeson/Stafford, Gen Kill)

Marines on Watch (Christeson/Trombley, Gen Kill)

Sunshine (Pappy/Walt, Gen Kill)

Release Goddamnit (Gabe/Walt, Gen Kill)

Unconventional Methods of Recovery (Brad/Ray, Gen Kill)

BoB

Docile Alpha (Roe/Speirs, BoB)

Justified

Silver Wrapped (Boyd/Raylan, Justified)

MOLLE Pouch of Memories (Boyd/Raylan/Tim, Justified)

Good Coffee and Good Mornings (Tim&Cade OC, Justified)

Buck Builds: Fellow Travelers

Pup!Skip Headcanons

Pup!Skip Moodboard

Pup!Skip/Handler!Hawk SFW Fic

Catholic School Teacher/Student 1948 HawkTim FIc Idea

"You know I can't" Webweave HawkTim

"At last, he's asleep" Webweave HawkTim

Van Gogh Webweave HawkTim

Dreams/Sleep Webweave HawkTim

"You're bulletproof" Edit HawkTim

"Childhood" Webweave Hawk&Lenny

"I will keep it safe" Webweave HawkTim

Last Kiss - Pearl Jam Webweave HawkTim

"His Love, like a brand, is burned into my being" Edit HawkTim

"Treat him like a God and he’ll blind you like religion" Webweave HawkTim

"Drag Queens can read." Screencaps FrankieMarcus

Frankie 1x02 Screencaps + Stormi!

"Give him a mask..." Oscar Wilde Webweave HawkTim

Cannibalism Motif Webweave HawkTim

Devotion Edit HawkTim

Buck Builds: Gen Kill

Pup!Romeo General Overview (Ray Person PuppyPlay)

Sad Brad/Ray HC

Trombley's Authority Kink

Brad/Ray PDA

NSFW "Sunshine" Pappy/Walt Drabble

Various RarePair Snippets/HeadCanons

Gunny Wynn Headcanons

BradTrombley Headcanons/Snippets

BradPoke & PappyRudy First Impressions

Brad & Gunny Headcanon

Buck Builds: BoB

A/B/O Pain!Play BullMartin MoodBoard + Drabble

Shifty/Skinny Hunting Each Other Motif MoodBoard

Buck Builds: The Pacific

Oral Fixation Kink Bill/Jay MoodBoard + Drabble

Pup!Sugar/Handler!Sidney MoodBoard

SId Ships & some Headcanons

Buck Builds: Justified

Tim Gutterson Moodboard, Pup Tango

Boyd Crowder Moodboard, Pup Bravo

Rachel Brooks Moodboard

Raylan Givens Moodboard, two, Pup Romeo

Boyd/Raylan/Tim Playlist (Spotify)

Tim Gutterson Headcanons (sfw), Multilingual Tim Headcanon

Justified Pups headcanon semi-outline

Tim Gutterson x Wrestling-BJJ-Kickboxing-Grappling-UFC Headcanon

“Their Graves” Poem inspired by Tim Gutterson

OTP Ask Game: Boyd/Raylan 1, Boyd/Raylan 2, Boyd/Raylan 3, Raylan/Tim 1, Boyd/Tim 1, Boyd/Raylan/Tim 1

Childhood Ask Game: Tim 1, Tim 2, Cade (oc) 1

Requestable Drabbles: “The Monster Under The Bed” (Boyd /Raylan/Tim)

Cade Gutterson Moodboard

Good Coffee and Good Mornings original post

Buck Brawls: Fellow Travelers

SEPENT THOU ART LOOSE hawk

Hawk's Apartment Floorplan

Tim in lingerie

SubbyTim Yelling

“He was buried wearing your cufflinks.” FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Tim stammers the “H” in “Hawk” when he comes.

Plant!Dad Tim

Car Sex Dialogue Sample HawkTim

HawkTim Ash Wednesday

Robbed of AgeGap Kink... sad

FT x Brokeback Mountian Bottom!Anger Parallel

Buck Brawls: Gen Kill

Match Maker Ask Game: Five Pairs GK+BoB

Buck Brawls: BoB

Match Maker Ask Game: Five Pairs GK+BoB

[oh2e]

People can say what they like but outsider POV fics and character x oc fics are actually my favourite thing I love them so much. Please I want to see how off the wall the main characters are to normal people

Fics where the narrator is an underpaid employee viewing the weirdest shit they’ve ever seen are my jam. If the main character isn’t called ‘extra sauce guy’ or something equally nonsensical and unflattering what is the point