#Tim Gutterson x OC

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Five

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.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

Chapter: Five

Elenora was placing a box in her bathroom while Tim leaned on the door frame, watching her. “You know, this place ain’t half bad.”

“See, I told you it was worth it.” Whispered Elenora as she set the box down on the counter.

“Oh, it was worth it.” Said Tim with a sly smirk. “Just make sure you leave that top drawer open for me. Also, I’ll be wanting the side of the bed with the view of the door, and I figure I should warn you I like to drink my juice straight from the carton.”

“Shh, now. There are others around, and I would really rather not have my second dad hear you. I would like once this is all said and done for you to leave in one piece, so you can circle the block and come back up.” Elenora said as she walked past Tim and into the main area of the apartment, just as footsteps could be heard coming through the front door.

“Guess who Art found wandering around on the street?” Announced Rachel as she entered the room carrying a box.

“New guy? Bout time he showed up.” Asked Tim as he walked across the room to take the box from Rachel.

Rachel confirmed his suspicions with a nod and a look of displeasure. “He’s that gun happy cowboy from Florida we heard about.”

Tim let out a laugh. “No shit? He must have really pissed off Florida if they sent him out here.”

“Wait? Cowboy from Florida?” Elenora questioned as her eyes went wide. “Cowboy hat? Lean? Looks like an asshole?”

“Yeah?” Began Rachel in response, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Elenora. “How’d you know?”

“Guys, I want you to meet the new guy,” Came Art’s voice as he walked into the room. “Old buddy of mine from Glynco. One of the fastest draws in the Marshal’s service.”

As Art said this, a man fitting the description Elenora had just given entered the room. His eyes landing straight on Elenora and a smile raised on his lips. “Hello, sunshine.” The man greeted as he scanned her over.

“Daddy?” Elenora questioned. Her hands shook, and she felt the sweat forming. Her mind was racing, and she could not seem to form a proper thought.

“There it is.” Said Tim under his breath, and Elenora could only think back to the previous night’s conversation about Tim waiting for the ball to drop on their relationship. Because this was a big fucking ball. She noticed her father seemed to eye Tim and look him over as though he was trying to piece together a puzzle.

Elenora stepped forward as she looked her father over. “What are you doing here?”

“I was transferred. Told Art to keep it a surprise. So, surprise.” Raylan approached Elenora and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Elenora followed suit, but it was more of an automatic response than anything out of love.

“You’re Elenora’s father?” Asked Rachel, as the father and daughter pulled apart.

“Yup.” Raylan popped his ‘p’ as he replied and shoved a hand out towards Rachel. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens, pleasure to meet you.”

Rachel took his offered hand and gave it a shake with a smile on her face. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Rachel Brooks.”

When Raylan released Rachel’s hand, he turned to look at Tim. “That must make you the man that saved my little girl. Deputy U.S. Marshal Tim Gutterson, if I’m not mistaken?” Raylan stuck out his hand and Elenora noticed the way his eyes narrowed. Tim, who was still holding the box he took from Rachel, finally moved to set it down.

“I didn’t do much savin’, mainly I just threw a set of cuffs on the guy,” Said Tim as he took Raylan’s hand in a shake. “I’m sure she has you to thank for the skills I saw that night.”

Raylan had not released Tim’s hand. “I taught my baby girl how to protect herself against any unwanted male advances.”

“Daddy!” Elenora narrowed her eyes at her father and he finally released Tim’s hand. “Why are you really here?”

“I told you I was transferred.”

“You were the one that gave that perp twenty-four hours to leave town.” Tim said with realization. “Then shot him dead at the table, when he didn’t comply. I’m guessing it wasn’t a transfer so much as Art was the only one that would take you in?” Tim’s voice held a slight harshness to it, and Elenora could tell that Tim was making sure her father knew he was not the type to back down.

“Apparently, this is my punishment for takin’ out the bad guy.”

“Or mine.” Voiced Art as he walked over and placed a hand on Raylan’s shoulder. “Rachel and Tim will be your best friends here. Rachel will keep you out of trouble and Tim, well, Tim will watch your back and take out anyone before they have a chance to draw.”

Raylan looked between Elenora and Tim once again. “Army?”

“Rangers.”

“I thank you for your service. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with my daughter, in private.”

Nodding her head, Elenora looked from her father to Art. “Did you wanna order that pizza? Beers are cold and in the fridge.”

“Will do.” Replied Art.

Leading Raylan out of the apartment and into the hall, she walked a few more steps before leaning on the plastered wall. The only closed off rooms in the apartment were a washroom and a walk-in pantry. It left little privacy, but because the whole top floor was hers, the hallway was out of the way. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you.”

“Worry me?”

Raylan leaned against the wall and took his hat off. Holding it in his hand, he turned the hat over and ran his fingers along the brim. “With what happened to you down here, and what I did back there. I just wanted you to finish your school with nothing distractin’ ya.”

“You shot someone and got yourself shipped off back to your home state. This is after you shipped me off cause it wasn’t safe for me in the same state you were working. Please tell me you don’t expect me to up and leave again.”

“I mean it wouldn’t...”

“You have got to be fuckin kidding me, daddy! I have a home here, a job, friends, a life.”

“And I got people that will eventually want to use you to get to me.”

Elenora pushed off from the wall. “That ain’t anything new, daddy. I defended myself then and I will do it again. I love you, but I can take care of myself.” Moving past her father, Elenora walked back into the apartment, where it was apparent that everyone had been listening to their conversation. She paused and looked around the room as both Rachel and Art attempted to make themselves busy with opening some boxes. Tim, on the other hand, was leaning against the counter, next to the fridge in the kitchen, beer bottle in hand. His eyes were watching her from the second she entered and while she walked across the room to the fridge.

Pulling the door open, Elenora then reached in and grabbed a beer. Throwing the door to the fridge closed, Elenora twisted the cap to her bottle off and tossed it on the counter before bringing the bottle to her lips. Taking a large swallow, she let out a sigh as her father entered back into the apartment. She watched as he made his way to Art and, as the two of them started to converse, Elenora felt herself relax.

Taking a few steps, Elenora put herself at the counter next to Tim. “My daddy’s here.” Whispered Elenora.

“And he’s got a gun,” Replied Tim before taking another drink from his bottle.

Keeping her gaze on her father, Elenora took another large drink from her beer. “I understand if you wanna start runnin’.”

“Ah, you’ve had a long day and I don’t feel like it’s much fair to make you run after me. So I think I’ll just stay right where I am.”

A buzz sounded through the apartment and everyone turned their heads toward Elenora and she just responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “Hey Art, said he was on pizza. I assume that means he’s payin?”

“Oh, alright. Wanna give me a hand, Rachel?”

“Fine old man, I’ll carry your pizza’s,” Said Rachel as she followed Art out the door with a laugh.

Once it was just the three of them, Raylan made his way towards the kitchen and looked between Elenora and Tim and when he reached the fridge, he held a hand to the door handle in question. “May I?”

“What’s mine is yours.” Said Elenora, before downing the last of her bottle. Once she was done, she placed the bottle on the counter and then reached forward for the bottle her father had just taken for himself. She cracked it open and took a drink.

“Good, because I’m gonna need a couch.” Elenora nearly spit out the mouth full of beer as she looked at her father. “Good to know that would have been your reaction. Don’t worry, the Marshal’s Service is paying for a motel until I get the living arrangements sorted. Besides, I don’t wanna get in the way of whatever boy it is you’re shaking up with.”

Eleanor just rolled her eyes at her father. “There is no boy.”

“Sure there is. Art told me you haven’t slept in your bed much this last week. With finals, I tend to find that a little odd given your study habits.” Said Raylan as he pulled another beer from the fridge.

“I’ve been staying with Mandy, and if I wasn’t studyin’, I was drinkin’.”

“Sure, sure. You keep him a secret for now, unless.” Raylan began as he closed the fridge and cracked a beer. “You two seem awfully chummy. Deputy Gutterson, you wouldn’t be the one preoccupying my daughter’s evenin’ time now, would you?” Raylan asked, starting down Tim. The tip of his bottle pointed at the man.

Tim responded with a cock of his head and a laugh, and when Raylan did not negate his hard stare, Tim straightened up. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I’m not dating anyone, daddy.” Said Elenora with a smirk.

“Well, you best be tellin’ this non existent boyfriend of yours that at some point in the near future, him and I are going to be having a talk. Most likely at the firing range or a dark, empty alley.”

“If I was seeing someone, why couldn’t you just be happy for me? Why do you need to threaten him? I’m not a little girl anymore, daddy.”

“Sunshine. No man will ever be good enough for you and you will always be my little girl.”

Soon Art and Rachel were back, pizza in hand, and the discussion of Elenora’s love life came to a close. After eating some pizza and drinking a few more beers, the group helped Elenora build up about a dozen bookcases and a few large cube storage units that she had situated as a divider between her living area and her sleeping area. When you entered the apartment, you were put into the middle of the living space. To the right of that was a large open kitchen area with a makeshift island that Elenora had created out of some rolling wooden workbenches, and to the left was the sleeping area, with the bathroom and a sliding glass door out to a small balcony. The balcony was just big enough for one chair but there was a small six step staircase that let you on to the roof, and a private area. There, Elenora had been gifted a patio set that had been left from a tenant five moves earlier. It was easier than actually trying to get anything back up or down.

“Nell, you know, you have the entire Harry Potter collection in five different languages right?” Tim ran a finger along the spine of each one as he inspected them. Everyone had left hours ago and Tim, too. He went home, gathered a bag of overnight items and a fresh set of clothes for tomorrow. Making sure that he took the long way back and that Elenora’s trigger happy father did not follow him. He even parked two blocks away and Elenora helped Tim enter through a back service door, just to be safe. “How did you afford all these? Didn’t realize being a student paid so well.” Elenora watched from the floor, where she was unpacking another box of books.

“I worked in the library at the university, and at a bookstore both before and after coming out here. I got to save up most of it. Got a little money from the government when my momma died. Daddy and a scholarship helped with the school. I like books. It’s nice to get lost in a good one.”

Elenora watched as Tim plucked Storm Front by Jim Butcher from the shelf and flipped it over in his palm. “This is a good series.”

“You, read fantasy?”

“Between the sandbox and my ass-hole of a father, it was an escape.” Tim placed the book back on the shelf and walked over to Elenora. “Speaking of fathers, yours is interesting.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Elenora to her feet. “Almost had to change my pants.” Tim had a sly smile on his lips as he spoke, and it made Elenora laugh.

“Well, you aren’t running, so that must be a good sign?” Elenora placed her arms on top of Tim’s shoulders and put her hands on the back of her neck.

Tim placed his hands on her hips and smiled down at her. “I said almost, and something tells me you might be worth staring down the barrel of your daddy’s gun.”

Pushing forward, Elenora brought her lips to Tim’s. She kissed him softly, and he responded in kind, his hands tightening on her hips but his pace matching her own. Tim was patient in many things Elenora had noticed, but with her, she noticed he would give off signs he was restraining himself. Trying to let her take the lead, let her be the one in control of the moment. It all made her toes tingle and her stomach tighten. It was one of the many reasons she was falling hard for Deputy United States Marshal Tim Gutterson.

Chapter Six (Incoming)

[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

[panevanbuckley]

I'm slowly becoming tim x jimmy trash...

[softspeirs]

Clouds Overhead

Pairing: Bill “Hoosier” Smith x Female OC (Could be read as reader insert or as an unnamed OFC) Rating: PG-13 to be safe: mentions of war typical violence and PTSD. Summary: In Melbourne, Hoosier finds you, and you both find some peace. Author’s Note: I haven’t written for Hoosier before, but I have written a Tim Gutterson series before, so I’m pulling on elements of that to help with this. *shrugs* Disclaimer: As always, this is based on Jacob Pitts’ portrayal in The Pacific, and not on the real man. No disrespect is intended. I don’t own HBO or The Pacific. Lyrics inset are from Making April’s “These are the Nights” which I also don’t own.

So divine is this happening Can't I just graze your skin For the rest of our time But time isn't letting this night go on

Bill sleeps for almost the entire day while his friends are out reveling in their freedom. 

When he finally wakes, the moon is up, and he takes a minute to be grateful for the fact that for once, a full moon doesn’t mean a night of shelling and almost certain death. For once, he can enjoy it.

Or, he could, if there wasn’t someone right in his view. A woman, to be exact. For a half second, he wonders if he’s dead.

He rubs his eyes, but she’s still there. When he wakes up a little more, he realizes there’s a red armband around her bicep, and he watches curiously as she stares out across the pitch, mesmerized by the same sight he is. 

“Nice night,” he comments quietly, but she still jumps near out of her skin at the sound of his voice.

“Christ,” she curses. “You scared me.” 

American, he realizes.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He says, but he can’t help but smirk at her. God, but she’s a vision. Maybe he’s just starved for anybody’s company besides his friends, but he thinks this woman is the most beautiful thing he’s ever set eyes on.

“I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” She comes a little closer, close enough that Bill can make out more of her features, most notably the bruise darkening the left side of her face. Her shoulders slump as she realizes he’s noticed. “Occupational hazard,” she says before he can ask if she’s alright. “Why aren’t you AWOL?” 

He shrugs. “Tired.” 

She laughs, the sound music to his ears. “I slept for almost twelve hours when we first got here.” 

“How long have you been billeted here?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight. Something about her knowing smile and kind eyes makes him feel off kilter. 

“Three days. I’m being transferred to the hospital.” 

“I’m Bill,” he blurts. She grins, and he wants a hole to open up and swallow him. 

She tells him her name, and Bill savors the sound of it, sure that she’s some kind of witch sent to put a spell on him. He feels spellbound, locked in her orbit. He doesn’t want her to leave. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, trying to find whatever charm he thinks might still be buried under all the grime and trauma of the last few weeks. 

“Are you asking me out, soldier?” 

It’s his turn to grin at her playful tone. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Meet you by the gates in twenty minutes?” She asks, and he nods, watching her as she goes. She looks over her shoulder and he’s still staring, unashamed, gratified by the shy look she gets when he locks eyes with her. 

A half hour later, he’s in his Class A’s, a little wrinkly, but certainly better than his grungy OD’s. He fidgets nervously as he waits for her to show up. 

“Bill,” her soft voice announces her arrival. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my shoes--” 

She’s tugging at her skirt as she walks, not paying attention to the way his jaw has gone completely slack as he takes her in. Her dress is also a little wrinkly, likely packed up in her trunk like his clothes are, but he doesn’t care about that. In fact, it makes her even more endearing. 

Her hair falls in loose curls around her face, and she must have found some lipstick somewhere, because they’re an enticing shade of berry, and Bill licks his lips despite himself. Luckily she doesn’t catch him, or he’d feel like the biggest jerk this side of the Pacific. 

“Do I have something on my face?” She asks when she catches him staring. 

“No,” he answers, his voice rough. “You’re perfect.” It slips out, far more honest than he intended to be. 

They both go quiet, and then she smiles, and the world rights itself again. Christ, he thinks, I’m done for.

.

.

In town, there are Marines and civilians everywhere, crowding the bars and streets. Bill keeps an eye out for his friends as he walks, both wanting to make sure they’re not causing too much trouble, and wanting to avoid them. He wants to keep this moment just for him. 

He looks down at her as they walk, still unable to believe his luck. 

“Can I ask you about that?” He asks her quietly, gesturing towards her cheekbone.

Her face goes carefully blank, and he curses himself. He should know better than to ask anyone who’s been in the shit about what happened to them. Not here.

“At the aid station, this man-- combat fatigue.” She mutters. “He was seeing things in his sleep. I thought he was going to hurt himself, so I tried to wake him up.” 

She doesn’t need to tell him the rest.

“Didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

She looks up at him, her big eyes reflecting the moonlight. “It’s okay. It’s sort of... nice to talk about it with someone.” 

“You don’t have many friends here? I find that hard to believe.” He says, steering her towards a park. He originally intended on finding a place to get a drink, but he finds talking with her and listening to the lilt of her voice intoxicating enough.

She rolls her eyes at him. “I have some friends. Other nurses. Haven’t met the ones I’ll be bunking with now that I’m here, but.” She stops herself. “It’s hard to get to know anyone.”

He knows what she means. He feels the same way whenever replacements show up - he barely wants to know their names. 

They find a bench out of the way of prying eyes. The chatter of Marines all over the place pairs with the crickets providing the soundtrack for the evening.

“What about you?” She asks, “You have many friends?” 

He smiles thinking of the guys who have had his back since they landed on that godforsaken island. “A few.” He smirks. “They’re terrible. Hope you never meet them.” 

She grins. “Well, they can’t be as charming as you are, clearly...” 

He laughs, surprising himself. He can’t remember the last time someone made him laugh outside of a foxhole or a trench. 

“Where are you from?” He finds he wants to know everything about her.

“Chicago,” she says with a fond smile. “You?” 

“Indiana. A small town no one’s ever heard of.”

Nearby, a car backfires, and Bill surges off the bench, looking over to see her doing the same, hands clenched into fists. 

“Fuck,” Bill swears, hands shaking and cheeks red with embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” she says, taking a step closer, taking his hand automatically. He burns at her touch. “It’s okay,” she repeats.

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t apologize.” She says fiercely, suddenly sounding angry.

He knows how she feels. 

It shouldn’t be like this. They should have met somewhere else. The state fair maybe, or while she was getting a milkshake with her friends. He would have spotted her, been unable to leave until he knew her name. 

He would have been unable to get her pretty face out of his head. 

Not here - not like this... with the thread of never ending carnage looming above both their heads. 

“Let’s go to the beach.” She says, out of the blue, tugging him closer with the hold she’s still got on his hand. 

He thinks he would follow her anywhere if she keeps looking at him like that.

The waves sound different than they did on Guadalcanal. 

They’re calmer here, not so harsh. Maybe it’s the circumstances. Maybe it’s the company. Either way, Bill finds himself leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him. 

Next to him, her skirt flutters in the breeze, the scent of something floral drifting towards him as the wind ruffles her hair. 

“You know,” she says suddenly, her voice quiet, “when I became a nurse, I was so naive. I thought I’d be... dabbing foreheads with a cold cloth. Serving sandwiches.” She shakes her head. “What an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot.” He insists. “I’m the one who volunteered to go halfway around the world and fight in the jungle.” 

She smiles softly, looking out at the water. “I had no idea what I was getting into. Neither did you. None of us, really.” She meets his eyes, hers burning with something that sets fire to his veins. “You’re going to make it,” she says fiercely. “You’re going to make it, and when this is all over, I’d very much like to see you again, Bill.” 

He wonders if there’s ever been another woman like her. 

They sit there awhile longer. When she starts to shiver, he takes a risk and slides closer, slinging his arm around her shoulder. She leans in, her head on his shoulder, and when that gets uncomfortable for them both, she unceremoniously climbs in front of him so she’s between his legs, leaning back against his chest. 

Their combined body heat makes him drowsy, and his hands wander, only a little. She sighs, and he’s never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire life.

They run out of time. 

The MPs start searching the park, and then the beach, and they both scramble to their feet to make a run for it, laughing the entire way back to the stadium. 

The Nurse Corps are billeted on the complete opposite side, and Bill finds himself looking for any reason not to let her go. 

“I think I’m wounded,” he says, smiling lazily. “You should probably stick around.” 

“I think you’re full of it.” 

“Full of something,” he murmurs. “Can I write to you?” 

She looks surprised. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” 

He ends that night with his cheek burning from where she’d kissed it, and her address in his pocket, “for afterwards,” she insists.

He hopes there is an afterwards.

.

.

It’s nearly fall in Chicago, but Bill’s hands are sweating. He hears chatter inside the large house, the windows open to let in the autumn breeze, and one voice in particular makes him stop in his tracks and shut his eyes briefly, trying to gather himself. 

He knocks, takes a few steps back.

A screen door opens and shuts. 

“Oh my god.” 

He finally looks up. 

“Oh my--” Her eyes are filled with tears, and she stops mid sentence to jump the last two porch steps and throw herself in his arms. 

He’s caught off guard, but feels his knees go weak not from the remnants of his injury, but from the sheer relief of seeing her again, of feeling her in his arms, when he was sure he’d never have this chance. 

He doesn’t hesitate - he tilts his head up and catches her lips, kissing her the way he wanted to the first night they met. She responds immediately, sighing against his mouth as he sets her back down on the ground so he can cup her face in his hands, breaking away only when he’s nearly gasping for breath. 

“Bill.” 

“Hi.” 

“I thought you--” She stops herself, hand going over her mouth to stifle her sob. “You never answered my last letter.” 

After Melbourne, they wrote to each other nearly every day. They know more about each other than Bill knows about some of his closest friends. That all stopped when he was hit. 

“The Marines had the audacity to send me to a hospital that wasn’t yours,” he says, smiling at her. His smile fades as he takes in every detail of her face. “Are you--” He looks over her shoulder towards the house. “Is there someone--” 

She looks stricken. “No. No, Bill, I told you.” 

He remembers. In her last letter, which he could probably recite by heart if he needed to. I’ll wait for you, she had said. There’s no one else.

He wasn’t dumb enough to think that would last forever when she got home, though. He’s still not sure... he doesn’t believe he could be that lucky.

The hesitation must be written on his face, because she gets this look of pure determination before she’s tugging on his hand, dragging him around the corner of the house, away from prying eyes and ears. 

She doesn’t even let him say another word. She pushes at his shoulders until his back is flat against the brick, and then she’s in his arms again, mouth pressed against his. 

Her hands grip his lapels to keep herself steady, and his find purchase on her hips, his breath leaving him in a stuttered groan at the passion in her kiss. 

He dreamed of her like this. He dreamed of a floral scent and a soft fabric bunching up under his hands, of finally, finally having enough time to kiss her like he meant it.

“I told you I would wait for you.” She gasps. “I don’t break my promises.” 

“Thank god for that,” he mutters, before diving back in for more.

For once, time is on his side. There’s nothing to rush now, no need to act like they might never see each other again. 

They’ve got all the time in the world.

'Cause these are the nights that you know when you're there You couldn't have planned it much better I swear and you hope That your senses aren't failing you now And you think to yourself now I could be wrong But I might have just stolen this scene from a song and you know That your senses aren't failing you now 

End

[tocastielandback]

Guiding Light (Tim Gutterson x OC)

Another one for @whoabrekker​! Also, can’t forget other mvps @wordsfly-scriptamanent​, @kitkat-589​, @alienoresimagines​ and @brownslouchhat​.

Tim's long fingers gripped the steering wheel like he was about to fly out of the car at any moment. While he had loosened the top two buttons of his light blue button up shirt, he still felt a stripe of heat a few inches below his chin like a necklace.

"Tim?" Chase placed her hand on his upper arm. "Something wrong?"

He hadn't realized his knuckles turning white.

Why did he feel this way? His nerves rarely shook him up like this.

"Yeah... I'm okay," his tongue darted between his lips. "Just nervous, I guess?"

He didn't know why he admitted it. Perhaps it was to ease some burden he felt.

Chase let out a silent "oh", looked at the road before them--seemed familiar--then back at him.

"Why? You caught Drew Thompson, didn't you?" she questioned.

They had just left a nice restaurant about ten minutes ago. It wasn't too fancy, but it was quite pricey and, while he did get paid a hefty sum for being a Marshal, he didn't want to spend part of this night in one place. The nice dinner was only the first part.

Chase didn't question him further. Instead, she shifted in the passenger seat, smoothing the red dress over her thighs from how it arranged itself in her original position.

Normally, she didn't like wearing skirts or dresses often, but Tim convinced her. She playfully asked if it was because he wanted to look at her body or if it was for the occasion.

Tim, in his nonchalant way, said both.

He told her he wanted to celebrate the Marshals catching Drew Thompson before anyone else on Theo Tonin's side got to the fugitive first.

The operation was a huge success.

Tim soon asked his girlfriend of three years, who worked at the forensics department a building over, if she would like to go to a celebratory dinner.

Chase attributed the shift in mood to something having to do with work.

"We did," Tim smiled a bit. "But no doubt we'll get lots of shit from Tonin."

While likely, that wasn't the reason for his worries.

Most of it had to do with the piece of paper in his blue, windbreaker draped over his chair at the office.

He'd been planning this for months and he wanted it to go perfectly. Like Chase, he was simple. Their dates consisted of staying in and ordering takeout and gifts exchanged were never extravagant. But this night was different.

After dinner, he made an excuse to go to the courthouse: to see if a report he filed made it to Art's desk.

"Come with me," he said while parking his car and killing the lights. "I don't want you sitting here all alone."

Chase unbuckled her seatbelt and swung the passenger door open. "And it's cold."

Once they both closed their respective doors, he hit the lock button and held her hand when they met in front of the bumper.

"I'll grab my jacket for you while I'm in there," he said, walking to the entrance with her.

He stepped aside and held the door open for her.

"So gentlemanly of you," she closed her eyes and tipped her head back before going in.

"Nothing less for you," he gave her a sly grin.

They took the elevator up to the floor where the office was and Tim turned to her.

"Just a few minutes okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as if to tell her to stay outside.

"Aww, c'mon..." she teased. "No fun tonight?"

A light pink hue dashed across his cheeks, but he pecked her lips and let loose the smile he was holding back. "I have something better."

He unlocked the double doors and darted straight to his workspace. He slipped his key into the slot of the top drawer and checked to see where Chase was before swinging it open. He grabbed the small, black velvet box hidden behind a box of paper clips and put it in his back pocket. After closing the drawer and relocking it, he took the back of his jacket and pulled it off the chair.

The closer Tim got to leaving the office, he could feel his heart thumping faster. His fingertips gracing the door handle, he stopped short of stepping out to inhale and gulp.

"H-Hey," he announced his presence to Chase, who stood with her back against the wall.

She spun her head from the end of the hall to him and got back on her feet at the sight of the jacket. "Your report there?"

Tim cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah... let me just put this on for you."

With her body fully facing forward, he made his way behind her, slipping the two holes over her arms and setting the rest of the jacket on her shoulders.

He gently gathered up her blonde locks and pulled them out so it fell perfectly over the yellow "U.S. MARSHAL" on the back.

As she fastened the buttons, he stood in front of her again, about an arms-length apart.

"Before we go," he began. "Can you check for anything in the pockets for me?"

Without question, she did so. The first side pocket was without contents, but the second held a white piece of paper folded into four sections.

When Chase handed it over to Tim, the edge of his lips stretched up his cheeks. "Read it."

Now with her face giving away her confusion, she opened it. Her features softened with every line her eyes swept over.

This is where it began, My guiding light You made me a better man Who can make it through the night

No longer am I clouded With self-doubt My love for you unshrouded From here on out

Now on my knee I beg for your attention For I have a question: Will you marry me?

When he could tell she was nearing the final stanza, he got down on one knee and produced the box from his back pocket.

Lowering the poem, she watched in awe as he opened the box, revealing a diamond ring perched up so it shone towards her under the fluorescent light.

"Yes..." she whispered and covered her mouth with her right hand, holding out the left.

Tim chuckled and removed the ring from the box, taking her hand and slipping it onto her ring finger.

He stood up and laughed when he felt the weight of her body against his. Her arms sprawled around his neck and she pressed her lips onto his.

They locked lips for a few minutes before pulling back for air.

"Oh my God, Tim..." Chase said in the same whispery tone.

"I know, babe," he kissed her nose.

She giggled and looked down at her hand, taking in the details.

With her fingers parted, she turned her hand over and took note of the engraving: a Northern star followed by the coordinates 36° 50' 45'' N

"Right where we're standing," Tim beamed.

Again, her eyebrows knitted towards the center. "Where's the other part?"

"It'll be on my ring," Tim replied, his eyes meeting hers. "Because you're my other half."

To this, Chase kissed him again before they left, hand-in-hand.

“I don’t want this night to end...” she whined as he started his car.

“It doesn’t have to right now,” he looked at her, a devious glint in his eye.

She returned the look.

After all, they had the rest of their lives together.

[bookwormdeen]

Requests Open

Requests Open

Hello!

These can be pairing with Reader, OC (fanfic or one-shot) or just one-shot without pairing (just the character).

I do dates special (b-days, Christmas, etc)

Smut (Only in some cases), Dark themes: Allowed.  I like polemic, yes! Feminism, Gender questions, Politic, Health. All of it. The world is a lot of things, writing has to be too. Plus, art is here to help.

I value things that run from stereotypes or cliche. So your character can be LGBTQI +, Black... Anything really. I don’t wanna just white perfect characters. I want different.  Because different is far more challenging and fun to write.

I am taking requests with the following characters:

TV Shows

Daredevil: Foggy Nelson; Benjamin Poindexter, Matt Murdock, Vladimir Ranskahov

The Originals: Kol, Klaus, Elijah

Vampire Diaries: Damon, Kai Parker

Vienna Blood: Max Liebermann

The Punisher: Billy Russo.

The Witcher: Jaskier, Cahir, Lazlo

The Order:Hamish Duke, Randall 

Justified: Tim Gutterson

Limitless: Bryan Flinch

Ragnarok: Fjor Jutul, Laurentis

Dark: Jonas, Magnus Nielsen

Peaky Blinders: Thomas Shelby, Michael Gray

Amazing Spider-Man: Ben Reilly (Scarlet Spider), Peter Parker, Alistair Smyte, Miles Morales

A Discovery of Witches: Marcus Whitmore 

Merlin: Merlin, Arthur, Mordred, Gwaine, Lancelot

Grimm: Nick Burkhardt

Good Wife: Cary Agos, Finn Polmar

Star Trek: Spock, Khan, James Kirk, *Data

Dusk Till Dawn: Richard Geko, Seth Gecko

Glee: Sam Evans

Scream: Noah Foster, Gustavo Acosta, Eli Hudson, Will Belmont

Hannibal: Hannibal Lecter

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Berlim

The Good Doctor: Shaun Murphy, Neil Melendez, Alex Park

Castlevania: Adrian Tepes, Trevor Belmont

Clone Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Sex Education: Otis, Adam Groff, Eric

Movies

Marvel: Loki, Bucky (Winter Soldier), Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Doctor Strange, Quicksilver, Black Panther, Harry Osborn

DC: Bruce Wayne, Scarecrow, Joker

Ex Machina: Caleb Smith

Riot Club: Miles Richards, Dimitri Mitropoulos, Guy Bellingfield, James Leighton

1917: Blake, Scholfield

Narnia: Edmund Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Caspian 

Hobbit: Legolas, Thorin, Thranduil 

Fantastic Beasts: Newt Scamander, Theseus Scamander

6 Underground: 4, 6, 7

HP: Draco Malfoy

Game of Thrones: Robb Stark

Maze Runner: Newt, Gally

Characters 

Iron Fist Austen: Mr Darcy, Mr Tilney, Sidney Park, Frederick Wentworth

Noah Centineo

PS: Here are listed only man but you can ask woman too (I don’t know which ones to put, there are much more than these ones).

Ships

Crossover ships are accepted too!

Davina x Kol

Mr Darcy x Elizabeth

Mr Tilney x Catherine Morland

Anne x Gilbert

Sidney Park x Charlotte

Matt Murdock x Karen Page

Billy Russo x Krista Dumont

Amy March x Laurie

Rich Gecko x Kate Fuller

Anastasia x Dimitri

I love AUs and crossovers: like HP meets Narnia, or something like that. Ask about Actors are good too. 

Free Stories 

These ones I pretend to write more of it or remake it. These will be long fanfics. Feel free to share ideas. If you want a one-shot involving these TV shows or movies is good too. 

Obs: Some of them may be only in my Wattpad account. * @lucy_beau

The Alienist; Dirk Gently; Northanger Abbey; Sherlock, Sanditon; The Adventures of Tintin; Chained; Fallet; Ripper Street; Byzantium, Jumanji; Carrie Pilby; Vallerian; The Name of The Rose, Crimpson Peak; Revenge; Red Sparrow; Hookup Plan; The Ottoman Lieutnant

Free Ask:

Saw a thing and want a fanfic? Send me the idea. The movie is bad but could be good? Let’s write it. Want a prompt but can’t write? Maybe I can do it. Send it to me!

Free fanfics or stories have a limited number of chapters: 20.

Obs: I don’t do terror. Horror? Yes. 

SEND!!!!

If you want to be in my TAGLIST, say.

Need some help getting ideas? Look here: Prompts

[dispatchvampire]

MASTERLIST

Updated 3/10/24

A bit of a caveat: No one under 18 please. These are not the stories you’re looking for. 

Also, since my bio is being a pain in my ass, I wanted to be clear: I'm a grown adult (over 40), multiethnic, and she/her.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled reading.

AO3

Slow Burn: Brighter Than The Sun - Steve x EnhancedFem!OC (complete)

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst, swearing (a lot)

Summary: Boy hears Girl sing. Boy meets Girl. It could be the great American love story except Girl has a dangerous secret and is now a wanted fugitive. And Guy is an All American hero. 

Delilah Ford has had better weeks. Her life goes from ‘three shows a week’ to 'Escape from New York’ in the blink of an eye. And then there’s the guy. 

Steve Rogers give up on an infatuation? Not bloody likely. First time he heard Delilah sing, it was like all the cracks in his heart had been filled with gold. It was healing and restorative in ways he couldn’t comprehend, and he knew he had to meet her. She was gorgeous, sweet, and had no idea who he was at first, which was refreshing. 

And then the Feds tried to arrest her. 

Pursued by the government is not the best time to fall in love.

Slow Burn: Out Go The Lights

Pairing - Steve Rogers x OC,

Warnings: Some swearing, minor violence, nothing terrible

Summary: Clint and Delilah go to a haunted house within a haunted house. Shenanigans ensue. It’s amusing and traumatic for everyone.

A/N: This is part of the Slow Burn series, and in the same universe as Brighter Than the Sun. It’s out of order but I wanted to share it because of Halloween

Part of the Slow Burn Series (drabbles coming soon)  

With Benefits - Steve x Fem!OC (complete)

Warnings: Smut, nakedness, swearing, fluff

Summary: Xochitl Tecuani is a good soldier, a good Avenger, and hopelessly lusting after her team leader. Her crush on Cap is unfortunate at best and surely unrequited, or is it?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Bad Mistakes (I’ve Made A Few) - Clint x Tim Gutterson (Justified) (complete)

Warnings: Smut (M/M oral sex, drinking), fluff (kinda sorta, if you squint)

Summary: Two snipers, both alike in dignity, or something like that. A meet cute goes terribly awry when Tim stops by a bar for a drink and a game of pool and runs into Clint. The passion is hot and heavy while the bullets fly.

Part 1 of my Two Snipers series

Close Encounters of the Preferred Kind

Part 2 in my wholly unintentional Two Snipers series.

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: Justified/The Avengers (MCU) Crossover (kinda)

Pairing: Clint Barton/Tim Gutterson

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: Fluff (kinda sorta, if you squint), canon level violence, aliens, cussing, a lot of cussing.

Summary: Set after the events of 'Bad Mistakes (I've Made A Few)', this is the second meeting of our fateful couple, with aliens invading, families meeting, and, of course, Tim's long-suffering boss, Chief Deputy Marshal Art Mullen. Life gets messy when worlds collide.

Author’s Notes: 100% did not intend to write a follow-up to BM, but these two don't really do things on my timeline or my schedule. Anyway, the idea of this made me laugh, this is what happens when you introduce your Boo to your people, and everybody had issues. Oh, and the mood board was all me, with picture credit going to their varying photographers.

Jump, Jive, & Wail - Bucky x Fem!OC

Pairing: Bucky x OC (in progress)

Warnings: Death by fluff, casual swearing, smut in later chapters

Series Summary: A bunch of interrelated  of fluffy ficlets about Bucky and Grace. For a woman who’s more spice than sugar, she’s awfully sweet on him.

Chapter Summary: In which Bucky has the worst kept secret crush in the history of ever on the cute, new, tattooed teammate. Grace is shy but definitely interested, and just waiting on the right dance partner.

Playlist: I made a playlist as I wrote this in case you’d like a soundtrack as you read.

New York State of Mind (Clint x Fem!OC)

Word Count: 680

Warnings: unbeta’d, angst, character death, just all the sadness

Written for @ackeviddlestan ’s Clint Barton Song List Challenge

Prompt: #8 - New York State Of Mind

Pairing: Clint x Fem!OC

Rating: PG

Summary:  She was his home. His time away. His peace of mind. Yeah, when he came back to the city from the compound, he came back to Brooklyn. His building. He came back to her as well. She was the one thing that he refused to give up under any circumstances.

(image credit for Succubus - Holly Woolford)

Someone To Watch Over Me - Bucky x EnhancedFem!OC (in progress)

Warnings: Smut (so much smut! M/F, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), toys, Bisexual OC), swearing, drinking, killing. 

Summary: The five times Bucky watched Tela, the newest Avenger, and the one time she truly saw him. 

A/N: Wanda’s of age, this just came from nowhere in my mind while I was working on something else and it needed a home. Many, many thanks to @stevieang​ for the beta. She is amazing and wonderful and you should read all her stuff.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Indecent Indulgences (complete)

Word Count: 9744

Warnings: Marvel AU, College!AU, No powers, Age gap, older woman/younger men, cougar on the prowl, Super spicy, Bisexual Steve and Bucky, Threesome F/M/M, PWP, Bucky Barnes has a filthy mouth, Steve does too, PIV sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex for everyone, completely self-indulgent and I'm not even a little bit ashamed.

Pairing: Stucky x Fem!OC

Rating: E

Summary:  

There were lines. Lines she knew she shouldn't cross--couldn't cross--because Dr. Layla Ciccone knew that once she did there was no way back. Not for her. Not for them.

Layla's busy life hadn't had room for dating. A trauma surgeon at the local hospital, she had been content to raise her daughter alone after her divorce and any needs she had were met with something rechargeable and unlikely to leave her wanting.

That did not, however, stop her from wanting.

Her daughter's friends since childhood, Steve and James were by no means little boys anymore. Hadn't been for a while now. And ignoring the temptation they presented grew more difficult by the day.

There were lines Layla knew she shouldn't cross, but sometimes, the only way to overcome temptation is to give in to it.

A/N: I got this vibe after listening to 'Stacy's Mom', having been inspired to do so by reading @abbatoirablaze's story of the same title. Hers is about Jake Jensen and is a fantastic read, this is straight up Stucky porn.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

I Wanna Bake It With You - Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness

Summary: 

Bucky’s a secret baker. A guy who throws down cupcakes like it’s going out of fashion as a way to handle his anxiety and nerves. And he’s nothing but a ball of nerves where you’re concerned.

You’re friends, besties even, but oh, what he wouldn’t give for something more.

A/N: This is my first reader-insert fic, so roast me if you gotta, but I think I did okay. This is a drabble, so there's two things outside of my normal comfort zone, and it's just something fluffy that's been kicking around my brain for forever. I have this vision of Beefy!Bucky baking and belting out Air Supply songs at top volume and it just brings me fucking life.

The Chain, The Magic Circle, & Us

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

Relationship: Stucky x Avenger!reader (gender/appearance nonspecified)

Summary: You, Steve and Bucky share a hobby, and a learning curve.

A/N: Continuing in my supersoft supersoldiers theme, this is Stucky x reader fluff and I am wholly unashamed. Headcanon format

Accidentally In Love

Pairing: Stucky x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 6600-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / ?

Damsel In This Dress

Warnings: Not many, probably mostly swearing. This is just a bit of fluff.

Rating: PG-13 mostly for language

WC: 1000-ish.

Summary: Layla finds herself stranded at a Stark gala, with her terrible ex circling like a shark. Enter an unlikely savior in the form of one smoking hot Winter Soldier.

Radio Free Bucky - Bucky x Fem!OC

Pairing: Bucky x OC (in progress)

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, casual swearing, smut in later chapters

Series Summary: A bunch of interrelated  of fluffy ficlets about Bucky and Penelope. Strangers in the night, tenuously connected by the past, finding their way together a little at a time.

Chapter Summary: In which Bucky has a birthday and someone unexpected knows about it.

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Three

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 Three:

When Elenora awoke, she did not remember how she had gotten into bed.

She felt hungover, maybe almost worse than hungover. Her head was fine, but her body was stiff. After a slug of a walk to her bathroom, she showered under the hottest water she could stand, and when she had washed both her body and hair twice, she felt a hundred times better.

Elenora had gotten dressed in a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a loose fitting thin white sweater. Its collar was high on her neck to ward off some of the chill from both the night air and the air-conditioning at the school. A pair of large gold-rimmed glasses sat perched on her nose and her slightly damp hair clung to her cheeks. She moved to collect her jacket from the back of her desk chair, only to discover a green jacket that was not hers. For a moment, she had forgotten that hers would still be in her SUV, which was at the school. Lifting the jacket towards her face, she inhaled Tim’s scent. Something sweaty and a hint of fire smoke. It reminded her of the night after the bar, when they had gone back to his place, and she had laid with her head on his chest as he ran a finger up and down her arm. Something that had felt so natural that she would have thought they had done it a hundred times.

Draping the jacket over her arm, Elenora picked up her book bag and plucked a pencil from her desk. Heading to the kitchen, Elenora found Art and Leslie sitting at the table, each with a cup of coffee in their hand. “Good morning.”

“Moring Elenora. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. Would you mind if I came with you to the office with you today, Art? I would like to thank that Deputy for helping me last night and return his jacket.”

“I need you to sign a statement for me about what happened, so we can do that as well.”

Elenora gave a nod and draped Tim’s jacket over her bag. With the pencil she took, she spun her hair around it and shoved the point through the bun that had been created, effectively holding it in place. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Okay.” Art stood up and placed his coffee on the table. Moving past Leslie, he dipped down and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “See you at dinner.”

“You have a good day now, and say hi to Tim for me, Elenora. It was mighty nice of him to bring you home last night.” Leslie gave Elenora a wink, and she wondered if something had happened during the missing time in her memory from the night before.

The ride to the courthouse was quiet and once Art had escorted Elenora through security, the two made their way into the elevator. When the doors opened on the floor, the two stepped out, along with a small throng of other people going about their day. Art held the door open for her and allowed Elenora to enter first.

Her eyes zeroed in on him right away. Tim was sitting behind the desk closest to Art’s office. He was leaned back in his chair, rocking it back and forth as he focused on whatever was on his computer screen.

“I’ll go grab the papers from my desk. Just meet me in the conference room when you're done talkin’ with Deputy Marshal Gutterson.”

Art saying his name seemed to grab Tim’s attention and his eyes shot up from his computer screen to lock onto hers. He got up from his seat a little too fast to be casual, but if it appeared unusual, Art did not say anything as he walked into his office.

“I wanted to return your jacket to you, and thank you for what you did last night.” Elenora held out Tim’s jacket to him and he took it with a smile. She noticed Art look at her through the glass of his office and point to the room next door. She nodded her head in response.

“I’ll let you return the favor one day.” Said Tim with a smile.

“What save you from being kidnapped?”

“Have you seen me? Lookin like this, I’m getting jumped at once, twice a week.”

Eleanor laughed. “Your getting jumped because you wear a badge, although.” She took a step towards the conference room and next to Tim. “I wouldn’t blame them for jumping ya.”

“Cause I carry a badge or because of my dashing good looks?”

“I’ll let you decide, Marshal.”

With that, Elenora walked into the conference room. Art directed her to sit and quickly he went over what the papers said and told her where she needed to sign. Before she knew it, she was done, and she and Art were walking back out into the main room. “Let me just make a phone call and I can drop you off at your SUV.” Said Art as he walked into his office. Elenora looked around and found Tim talking to Rachel, whom Elenora has visited with the few times she had been in the courthouse.

“Hey Rachel.” Greeted Elenora as she approached the two.

“Hey Elenora. I heard about what happened. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You should have seen her. It was quite the takedown.” Said Tim, a tone of pride in his voice.

A smile raised on Elenora’s lips and she could feel her cheeks warm. “If only my daddy hadn’t banned me from law enforcement.”

“How is school going? You must be about to graduate?”

“Yeah. Last final is Friday. Already got a job lined up at Sayre’s Private School.”

“That’s great, and just across the street. It’ll make it easy for us to grab a coffee.” Said Rachel, with a genuine smile on her face.

“Ah, that explains this sexy authority thing you got goin’.” Said Tim. “You can put me in detention any time, Ma’am. Use the paddle and everything.”

Elenora felt the heat spread all over her body in both embarrassment and horror.

“Tim!” Rachel gasped in horror as she looked at her team mate. Then she turned to look at Elenora. “I apologize for him. The man has no filter and generally speaks without thinking.”

“It be weird if I didn’t.” Replied Tim with a casual shrug as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Did you need a ride to your car? I still need to finish up my lead in that area.”

“That be great, thank you. Rachel, can you let Art know Tim’s gonna drop me off?”

“Of course. Just don’t be afraid to smack him when he gets goin’ now.”

As if to emphasize Rachel’s words, Tim threw an arm out toward the doors and took a deep bow. “This way, my lady.”

Both Rachel and Elenora let out a laugh as Tim righted himself. Without another word, Tim and Elenora headed out of the office and towards the elevator. They waited casually until the doors finally opened, and once everyone had filed out, they went in. Tim pushed the button for the garage and the two watched as the doors closed, leaving them together, alone in the elevator.

Once they were closed and before Elenora could even comprehend what had happened, she found herself pinned against the elevator wall, the buzz of the emergency stop ringing in her ears and Tim’s lips against her own. One of his hands was on her hip and the other had wormed its way into her hair, effectively knocking the pencil from its home. At some point, and what she figured must have been instinct, she had dropped her bag as her own hands moved to the back of Tim’s neck. The kiss was hard and hungry, and just as fast as it happened, it was over, and the two had pulled away from each other. Each deeply breathing and with an itch they could not scratch in the elevator. “I’ve had this dream before.” Elenora whispered with a smile.

“Ooo, I expect you to tell me all about it later.” Tim responded with a smirk before restarting the elevator, and Elenora picked up her bag and pencil.

Right away, the doors opened on the next floor down and a few patrons entered, so Elenora and Tim shifted towards the back. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they watched the people file in and out of the elevator. As they were nearing the garage level, Elenora felt Tim lean into her. “You know, never thought my type was a naughty school teacher.” It came out as nothing more than a whisper and she was sure had anyone else in the elevator heard, they would have turned around.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors to the elevator opened and everyone filed out including themselves and Elenora noticed Tim’s hand had fallen to her lower back like it had in the past, and she let him softly guide her through the garage to where he was parked. Once they arrived at the SUV, Elenora turned to look at Tim and leaned against the door. “So what happened last night when you dropped me off? I don’t really remember much after gettin’ in the SUV, and Leslie was looking at me like she knew a secret.”

Tim gave up a smirk and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You may have muttered something about being madly in love with me when we got in the house.”

“No...” Elenora’s eyes went wide and her hand, which still held the pencil, moved up to cover her mouth in horror.

“You fell asleep shortly after we started the journey. Didn’t wanna wake you so I carried you inside. It wasn’t anything special.” Tim said with a shrug of his shoulders, but Elenora knew there was more to the story.

Elenora just smiled in response. “Would that lead of yours involve some coffee and breakfast?” Turning around, Elenora allowed Tim to open the passenger door for her and she hopped in before Tim placed a hand on the frame of the SUV and another on the inside of the door before leaning in towards her.

“Don’t you have class?”

“No, it’s just a week of studying and my final. I can spare some time for food, ooh! Ice cream. Can we go somewhere with ice cream and coffee?”

Tim’s eyes scrunched up and Elenora knew exactly what was going through his brain. It was the same thing everyone thought when she mentioned ice cream for breakfast. “You want ice cream for breakfast?”

“Yeah, eggs, milk. It’s no worse than a pancake slathered in syrup.”

“I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who has ice cream for breakfast.”

“I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who doesn’t have ice cream for breakfast.”

Leaning in a little more, Elenora watched as Tim’s eyes fluttered down to look at her lips before looking back into her eyes. “Well, I guess that’s that.”

“Your lips say one thing, but your eyes are sayin’ another there, Marshal.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Besides, maybe it’s not friendship I’m after.”

Elenora’s lips turned upwards. The smirk was hard to keep down. “Acquaintance then?

“Range buddy? Bum Chum? Girlfriend?”

“Are you saying you want me to be your girlfriend, Marshal? You don’t even know me.”

“I’m not good at this stuff. I’m not a sleep around type of guy. I shoot people and have shit hours. I got a slight drinkin’ problem, and some P.T.S.D. I’m not the type of guy girls continue to talk to unless they got daddy issues or arrest warrants. Honestly, I will probably forget whatever anniversary you feel is most important and I don’t know if I would ever want kids considering how fucked up growing up was for me. But you, you are all that I can think about right now, and I’ve never felt the way I did seeing that guy attack you last night. Maybe arrestin’ you was the best decision I ever made.” Tim’s voice held a monotone that Elenora was sure most would take as uncaring, but she could see the emotion in his eyes, that he was baring his soul to her in this moment.

“I’m not good at this either. I cling real hard and real fast. My momma was a junkie and a criminal. Who I found on our kitchen floor after she OD’d. The rest of my family is no better. They are racists, drug dealers and thieves. I have serious daddy issues. I’ll also probably forget what ever anniversary we are on, as well as your birthday. Kids scare the shit out of me, and I would much rather borrow them for the day and hand them back so I can go home, drink and selfishly spend my money on myself. I’ve never had a mutually serious long-term relationship of any kind. I usually scare them away before that, and while I was supposed to be studying yesterday, all I could think about was you, and that our wedding colours would be dark grey and teal.”

Tim said nothing in response. His eyes just moved around her face as if he was searching for something, and Elenora just watched him as her nerves ate away at her. Folding her lip in and between her teeth, she bit down, hoping the pain would distract her.

It felt like hours before Tim’s eyes settled back on hers. “Teal’s a nice colour.”

Chapter Four

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Two

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 Two:

Elenora drummed her pencil against the tabletop. The library was eerily quiet and while she may have been staring down at her textbook, her mind was on other things. Her back hit the wall hard, but she did not mind. The impact actually spurring her on as she worked at pulling Tim’s shirt out from his pants, while his lips attacked the side of her neck. Unconsciously, Elenora’s knees closed tighter together.

Tim’s hands roamed down her sides and cupped her ass and the next thing she knew, her feet were off the air. She felt Tim’s hearty laugh against her skin as she yelped in surprise and quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. Elenora felt the instinctual need to grind herself into Tim, eliciting a moan from him before his lips captured her own.

Pulling his lips away from her, Tim looked Elenora in the eyes with a smile. “I gotta’ confess, I knew who you were...at the bar.“

“Oh, really?”

Tim rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Each time you brought Art a coffee or stopped and talked to Rachel I hoped that there would be some excuse to talk to you, but then the rational part of my brain would stop me, telling me that you were Art’s ward and that I could look but not touch.”

“So what changed?”

“Probably the alcohol.” Said Tim as he opened his eyes and gave her a smile. “And the picture. I’m never deleting that, by the way.”

“Nora...”

Elenora dropped her pencil down in shock and shifted in her chair away from the unexpected greeting.

“Geez girl. You don’t look like you got any sleep.”

“No. I was awake most of the night.” Responded Elenora and a flash of Tim above her, lips around her nipple and two of his fingers deep inside her.

“I can’t believe you actually got arrested, can’t say I thought you had it in you, but I’m glad you did. I was routing for you.” Said the girl as she produced a set of keys and placed them on the table next to one of Elenora’s books. “The apartment is all yours.”

Reaching for the keys, Elenora held them in her hand and looked at her friend. “Wait. So no one else finished?”

“Oh no, they did. But they are all still locked up in the drunk tank. I guess there is some investigation into the amount of public intoxications that happened last night. Everyone missed class. The professors are pissed.” Said the girl with a laugh. “That’s the spare, so if you wanna start moving stuff over, you can. I’m basically packed up. My parents took two SUV loads to New York already. I’ll get the landlord to get me the copies of the lease, and I’ll leave them on the counter. If I’m not there, just sign your life away and leave three post dated’s. He’ll want them A.S.A.P. Then it is all yours.”

“Thanks again for this. It’s nice to know I’ll have a place of my own finally.”

The girl gave Elenora a nod and then headed off. Once Elenora was alone, she pulled out her cell phone and opened up her conversation with Tim, which still only comprised of the text to give her a wave and the nude photo her friends had both sent.

Elenora: Please say that you did not have anything to do with the fact there is a bunch of hungover university students locked up in jail right now.

Tim must have had his phone near him, as his response came through almost instantly.

Tim: I thought you wanted the apartment to end all apartments?

Tim: Also, I’m insulted that you would think I would use my powers of authority in such a manner. *gasp*

Elenora: Well, you didn’t seem to have that mentality when you used those handcuffs on me for a second time...

Elenora pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought about when she and Tim went for round two once they had finally made it onto the bed. Tim had reached down to his pants, where he had shoved the discarded handcuffs after helping Elenora out of the remaining side. He held them up to her with a grin. “Wanna make it a little more challenging this time?” Elenora said nothing as she stuck her wrists out to Tim. Once he had the cuffs on her, he pushed her up to the headrest on his bed and placed her arms above her head and the cuffs around one of the bed posts.

Tim: It was an unusual intake of public intoxication. I just wanted to ensure that those girls were safe, and that they couldn’t drink their way into a new apartment. It was my civic duty, I assure you.

Elenora: Well, I thank you for your service, Marshal. Think I might owe you something for taking on such a life saving task.

Tim: Now Ma’am, I like my laundry pressed and folded. Eggs over easy and I prefer my steak more on the rare than the medium side.

Elenora: Really now?

Tim: Oh, does this fancy apartment not have in-suit laundry?

Elenora: Is this your way of telling me you want to see me again, Marshal?

Tim: Ma’am, the thought of seeing you again is the only thing getting me through today.

The heat that ran through Elenora and to her core made her squirm. She never figured for her crush on Tim would amount to anything, considering how she had been banned from having a relationship with anyone in law enforcement. With what her father did, he had a strict rule about who she could date. It was for good reason she knew, because there was always that voice in the back of her mind that told her each time her phone rang that this was the call to tell her something bad had happened.

Elenora: I’m sure that could be arranged. However, Art does always seem to be quite interested in my male friends, probably under the behest of my father. So for now, mind if we keep whatever this is out of his radar.

Tim: Probably for the best. Don’t need Art sticking me on transport duty for the rest of my life. I’m already getting the shit end of the stick for being the new guy.

Elenora: Plus, I don’t need my daddy showing up here and shootin’ you.

Tim: Come on, Dad’s love me.

Elenora: Why do I feel like that’s a lie ;)

Tim: Offended!

Elenora: Don’t you have a perp to catch?

Tim: Shouldn’t you be in class?

Elenora: Studying for final on Friday.

Tim: Same, you are really making it hard to study, by the way. This picture of you keeps popping up on my phone. It’s really distracting.

Elenora let out a loud laugh and quickly her hand shot up to cover her mouth as she looked around the library. A few of the other students had turned to look at her.

Elenora: I’m going to go back to studying now.

Tim: I gotta go do something today. If shit doesn’t hit the fan and you aren’t to studied out, there is a bluegrass band plain’ in this bar in Georgetown tonight...

Elenora: You let me know when you are hole free and off the clock, Marshal.

Tim: Will do Ma’am.

The rest of Elenora’s day went by as usual, however she found she was checking her phone a little more than usual and when finally she could not stand the sound of her empty stomach any longer, she packed up her books.

As Elenora stepped out of the old brick walls and into the evening air, the bag slung over her shoulder. She wished she had not left her jacket in the SUV. The air was crisp once the sun went down. Moving around the side of her old Bronco, she opened the back door and tossed her bag in before leaning in to pick up her leather jacket from the floor. When she moved to stand back up, an arm wrapped itself around her shoulder and down across chest. The arm pulled her tight against a chest and the smell of cheap whiskey engulfed her.

“Well, aren’t you just a pretty one?”

Elenora rolled her eyes. “You best be takin’ your hands off me.”

“Now, why would I ever do that?”

The feeling of another hand sliding across her thigh made her skin crawl. “Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly, so I’ll say it nice and slow this time, so I don’t need to repeat myself for a third time. Remove your hands from my person.”

“Are you gonna be all bark and no fight, little lady? Here I was hopin’ for a little more...”

Eleanor’s shoulder dropped, which caused the grip on her to loosen. The fact that he was clearly intoxicated did nothing to help his reflexes as Elenora ducked down, looped her right arm around the arm that had been traveling her leg. Pulling up, she wrapped her arm around his and spun herself out from in front of the man. With little thought and mainly on instinct, Elenora soon had the man’s face pinned again the side of her SUV and his shoulder pulled from the socket as she held his against his own back.

The man let out a scream as the realization and pain set in. “You bitch!”

“Now that is no way to speak to a lady. Ma’am, do you require assistance?”

“No, Marshal, pretty sure I got this piece of shit handled.” Elenora turned her head slightly to see Tim standing a few steps away, hand resting at the ready against his firearm and his chest heaving as if he had been running.

“This woman...” He began and Elenora felt him try to push off from the SUV.

Threading her fingers through the man’s hair, Elenora gripped the locks and pulled back hard, before putting all her weight into bashing the man’s head against the steel of her SUV, effectively knocking him out. When she felt him go limp, she removed her hands and let the man drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Taking a few steps back from her SUV, Elenora looked to Tim, who was now slowly approaching the man. He gave him a push with his boot and put the mystery man on his back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Whispered Elenora, as she wrapped her arms around herself. The adrenalin from the event was already wearing off. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I would drive by on the off chance you were still here. Was going to phone you when I parked.” Tim pulled out his cell phone and after that, Elenora did not really pay attention. Instead, she moved herself towards the curb that surrounded the parking lot and sat herself down. Resting her elbows on her knees, Elenora picked at the cuffs of her denim shirt.

She noticed her hand began to shake and just stared at the tips of her fingers as she remembered the feeling of the man’s hand on her leg. “Nell?”

Elenora’s eyes focused past her fingers to see Tim crouched down a few feet away from her. “Do you want me to call Art, or your Daddy?”

“What?” Questioned Elenora in a daze.

“Either way, they both find out about what’s happened. I’ll say I was driving by when I saw the altercation and recognized you as being Art’s ward. Best to call now before the Lexington P.D. gets here.”

“Art, call Art.”

Eleanor watched as Tim gave a nod of his head and stood back up. He pushed a few buttons on his phone and held it to his ear. “Yeah hey Art. I stumbled into a bit of a situation. That Marshal’s kid that’s staying with you, she was attacked outside her car near the university. No, no. She’s okay. Definitely in shock, though. Locals are on the way, but you’ll want to come down. Yup, okay.”

Tipping her head down, Elenora rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hand, and then looked up to where the man was now laying on his stomach, hands cuffed behind him. “I didn’t kill him, did I?”

Tim must have pocketed as both his hands were free when he crouched back down. “No, think the fucker passed out from the pain. Your daddy taught you all sorts of tricks, didn’t he? Remind me not to piss you off.”

A chuckle left Elenora’s lips before she could help it. “Yeah, never had to put anything into action before.” Her words were followed by a gasp as she felt her breath catch in her throat, and could see her vision glass over with unshed tears.

He must have known what was about to happen as he place his hands out in front of him, palms facing her and took a tentative slide forward, as if he was approaching a wild animal. “Nell, I think you might be about to have a panic.”

“Yeah...” Elenora gasped as she struggled to find breath. She was feeling as though she was about to suffocate, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. Her lungs burned. “Think I might be.”

“I can help if you trust me, but I need to touch you. Is that okay?” Tim asked calmly.

Elenora could only nod her head in response as she gasped once again for breath and tears cascaded down her cheeks. She saw the blur of Tim as he moved around her and came to sit behind her. He pushed himself up his chest against her back and reached around her to take her hands in his. “We’re gonna fold your arms over and I’m gonna hug you tight, okay?” Elenora quickly nodded her head and allowed for Tim to cross her arms against herself and then he followed with his own. “Okay now I want you to feel my chest, and I want you to try to breath with me. In...”

Taking a struggled breath, Elenora could feel Tim all around her. He was like a blanket surrounding her. It was different from the other man. This was warm and as she listened to him tell her when to breathe out and in again, she felt as though nothing could hurt her. At some point, she noticed the blur of what must have been Tim’s hand shooing someone away. The moment seeming to break the spell she was under and slowly the world around her came into view. There were multiple red and blue lights and blurred black blobs, standing and moving around.

Slowly, everything started to come into focus more and Elenora could see Art talking to an officer and watching her. Or was he watching Tim? It was hard to really see. He was not entirely crisp and, after giving a light laugh, she felt Tim’s breath on her neck. “You doing okay now?”

“Yeah, I just. I think I might have cried my contacts out of my eyes.” Elenora let out another laugh, and she felt Tim’s arms unwrap from around her.

“Think you're okay to sit by yourself for a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Tim pulled himself away from her and the frigid chill of the air hit Elenora, making her shiver. She felt something fall on her shoulders before she saw it. Tim had dropped his green bomber jacket across her shoulders and had now crouched down to pull it around her front.

Elenora let her eyes settle on Tim, and a smile rose to her lips. “Thank you Tim. For everything.”

“Any time, Ma’am.” Said Tim and before he rose, he gave her a wink.

She watched as Tim and Art talked, and then Art set off towards her. Once he got to her, he took a seat next to her and Elenora watched as he rubbed the cell phone in his hand. “Tim says he watched you take our guy down yourself. Pretty impressive.”

“Yeah, daddy taught me well.” Elenora whispered, her eyes dropping from Art down to the concrete of the parking lot.

“Speaking of your daddy, you better give him a call. If he doesn’t know already, he will know as soon as this gets processed, and I don’t wanna be on the receiving end of that phone call.” Glancing back at Art, Elenora saw his phone was now extended toward her, so she took it with a shaky hand. “I’ll give you a few minutes, but then they are going to need a statement from you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Looking down at the phone, she flipped it open and found her daddy’s name. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the call button and put the phone up to her ear with one hand while she lid her other into the sleeve of Tim’s jacket. Then she swapped the phone to the other side and did the same with her remaining arm.

“What’s up Art, I’m a little busy right now,” Came the voice of Elenora’s father through the speaker.

“Hey, daddy.” A sniffled left her nose as she tried to compose herself. It always hurt when she had to tell her father something. She always felt like she was disappointing him, even though she knew she really was not.

“Elenora? What’s wrong?”

“I got attacked.” Elenora whispered, and she felt Art’s hand land on her back and rub a comforting circle. “I’m okay. I’m pretty shaken, but I’m okay.”

“Sit down!” Gunfire echoed through the phone.

“Dad!”

“Sorry, give me two seconds Elenora. Didn’t I tell you to stay where you are? This is an important phone call, but trust me I won’t forget about you and we will be right back at it. Now, you sure you’re okay? Is that what you’re saying or the paramedics?”

“I had a bit of a panic attack, but I’m fine. Not even a scrape. I put him down on his ass.”

“That’s my girl. I’m glad you are safe. Can you put Art on the phone for a moment, and then I need to get back to work, okay? If you need anything, you give me a call.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you more, sunshine.”

Elenora handed the phone back to Art with a sigh. “He want’s to talk to you.” Once the phone was handed over, she stared back out into the fray of people and watched who she assumed was Tim point out in a few directions. He must have been giving a statement as to what he had witnessed.

“Yeah, one of my Marshal’s happened to be on scene. He saw the whole thing go down. Had a bad panic attack, but he helped bring her back down. Yeah, I’ll tell him. Bye Raylan.” Art hung up the phone and stood himself up, before offering a hand to Elenora. “Come on now, let’s go get this over and done with so I can get you home.”

Elenora gave a grunt as she stood up, her muscles seizing as though she had just come back from a long run. It took her a second to get her legs functioning and when she felt confident in her steps, the two made their way towards Tim and an officer. “I got that apartment, by the way.” Said Elenora, in a poor attempt to think of anything else but what was happening. “Found out this morning.”

“Congratulations. I’ll be sad to see you go. Leslie will be heartbroken. Think she enjoyed having you around, seeing as how all our own are gone.”

“I’ll still be around.”

“I know.” Replied Art. “But just won’t be the same.”

The two came to a stop at the pair, with Elenora in between both Art and Tim and it was then she noticed her bag draped over Tim’s shoulder. He must have pulled in from her vehicle at some point. “I think I got most of what I need from the Marshal here, but if you wouldn’t mind. Telling me what happened before Deputy Gutterson got here.”

“Yes officer. I had just come out of the library and put my bag in the car. I reached for my jacket and as I was coming back up, he grabbed me from behind.” Elenora noticed Tim’s hand raise out of the corner of her eye and then lower back down as if he thought better about whatever it was he was about to do. “He called me a ‘pretty little thing’. Ran his hand on my thigh and when I asked him to remove himself from me, he replied with why would he? After then I asked him again, and he seemed to get irate at the fact I wasn’t putting up a struggle. He reeked of whiskey.”

Elenora watched as the officer scribbled a few things down on a pad he had been holding before looking back up at her, silently telling her to continue. “I was able to slip from his grip and pin him to my SUV, that’s when...” She had been about to say Tim, but caught herself before his name tumbled from her lips. “When the Marshal showed up, he addressed the man, but I felt him push back against me, so I slammed him into the SUV, and I guess I knocked him out. After that, it’s a bit of a blur, till only a few moments ago.”

“That should be good for tonight, ma’am.”

The officer went to walk away just as Art’s phone rang and the older man held up a finger as for the officer to wait a second. Quickly flipping open his phone and putting it to his ear, Art’s lips turned up slightly, as whomever it was on the other line must have given him good news.

“Thanks, that will be it for now. See you in the morning, Rachel.” Hanging up the phone, Art looked to Tim. “Looks like our guy Kurt Mannan has a few outstanding warrants in Kansas. I’m gonna have the Marshal’s service take it from here, officer.”

“Sounds good to me, Marshal. I won’t argue skipping the paperwork.”

“Tim, would you mind taking Elenora home? I’m gonna follow Mr. Mannan to the hospital and have a few words with him before I take him into custody.”

“I got her Sir.” Said Tim with a nod. Placing a hand to the small of Elenora’s back, he walked her away from the police and towards his SUV. He held open the door for her and helped her in. Without a word he shut her in, got in the driver’s side, swung her bag into the backseat and took off. Much like he had the night before, when they were far enough away and Tim was sure there was no way they would cross paths with Art, he pulled over.

“You still doing okay there, Nell?”

“Yeah. Think I’m just tired.” Said Elenora as she pulled at her seat belt so she could turn slightly. She rested her left temple against the headrest as she looked at Tim. Elenora felt like she had been hit by a truck. Her head was beginning to throb and her muscles were tight. Tim, on the other hand, looked relaxed, but there were a million emotions showing in his eyes. “I like that.”

“What?” Tim asked as he reached over to tuck a chunk of her hair behind her ear.

“You callin’ me Nell. I’ve never heard that one before.” She closed her eyes as Tim’s fingers continued to run through her hair. “It’s nice.” It came out more than a whisper to herself than anything, but she was sure Tim heard it.

There was a pause, and Elenora enjoyed the silence until it was eventually broken. “Let’s get you home.”

Her eyes did not open. Elenora had heard Tim, but the feeling of his hand in her hair and the warmth of his hand had entranced her into a coma like state. There was just no will to do anything other than hum to tell him she had heard.

Chapter Three

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter One

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 One:

Elenora could feel the bottoms of her boots stick to the floor as she walked. The years of spilt drinks and shotty cleaning leaving a film across the surface that wanted anything that touched it to become a permanent fixture. Her palms sweated as she stepped towards the bar, and she wiped them against her jean clad thighs, hoping to quell her nerves and the moisture. She should not be this nervous. She already had the plan formed in her head as to what she was going to say. “Hey, remember me, I’m that random girl staying with your boss, but we never really talked cause I think you're cute, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself. So see, my friends are stupid and as part of a scavenger hunt, I need to get a hot guy’s phone number. So here I am! Saying you are hot, like do you on the bar counter right this second. Think about you fucking me in the elevator every time I’m at the courthouse.” “God, I can’t say that,” Elenora muttered to herself. Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her dark blue skinny jeans, she took a deep breath. Thankfully, she had thrown a flannel over her tank top so maybe he would not notice the sweat that was forming under her arms.

When she approached the bar, she leaned against the wood with an elbow and turned herself to look at the man she was about to pester. “Evening Marshal.” Elenora greeted before giving a side eye to her friends. The group of girls were sitting in their booth at the opposite end of the building, chin in hand and elbows on the table, staring at her with wide eyes and cat like smiles.

The man swiveled himself around on his chair, his hands still rested on the bar top wrapped around his beer bottle as if it was too much of an inconvenience to lift them. The motioned drew Elenora’s eyes back to him. Elenora watched as his eyes connected with hers before slowly running down the length of her body and back up again. He squinted and his finger pulled at the label on the beer bottle subconsciously.

Elenora raised an eyebrow as he stared at her. “You look familiar, and you know I’m a Marshal.” His face relaxed, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Wait. You’re that uni girl stayin’ with Art, aren’t you?” He swiveled around fully now, his feet resting on the step of the stool and his knees spread wide. His left hand was free and now resting on his thigh.

“Yup, except right now, I need you to pretend like you don’t know me, and I am just some stranger hitting on you at the bar.” Said Elenora pushing off from the bar top and took a small step closer to the man. “You aren’t supposed to know this, but I require your phone number for a stupid scavenger hunt, and I really want to win.”

“This has got to be the strangest pick up line I have ever heard.” His smile betrayed the tone in his voice, telling Elenora that he was actually enjoying this. “Tim, by the way.”

“Elenora.”

Tim’s smile got even larger. “Can’t say an eighty-year-old has ever asked for my number.”

Taking a larger step forward than she had before, Elenora put herself between Tim’s legs. A surge of confidence overtaking her brought on my the smile on Tim’s lip and the mischievous glint that was now in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure this eighty-year-old could give you all sorts of new experiences.” Elenora reached out and ran her hands up Tim’s shoulders before pulling lightly at the collar of his polo to straighten it before dropping her hands back down to her sides.

“Ma’am, don’t tempt me with a good time. So this scavenger hunt?” Asked Tim. “You just need my number, or do you require my assistance with anything else? Say that picture of you skinny dip’n in the founder’s fountain?”

Elenora’s eyes went large. How could he know? Out of instinct, she went to take a step back, but Tim quickly threw his arms out, looping his thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans and splaying his hands on her sides of her ass. “Woah girl.” Tim whispered. “If you’ve done it I didn’t see, you just aren’t the first to come up to me tonight trying to fill that card of yours.”

Relaxing, Elenora rested her palms on Tim’s forearms. “So I’m too late to the game, then is what you are telling me?”

“Hardly. I don’t give my number out to just anyone.” Said Tim as his eyes once again locked onto hers. “However, being in the charge of Art and all, I feel as though it is my duty to help you with your task.”

“That would be mighty fine of you.” Elenora responded. Her hands had worked their way up his arms till her wrists rested on his shoulders. With a turn of her head, Elenora looked back towards her friends who were all watching her with interest, waiting to see what happened next. “Pretty sure you just made me the talk of the night, Marshal.”

“Got your phone?” Tim asked as he slid his hands out from her jeans and brought them to rest on her hips.

Elenora reached up into the pocket of her flannel and pulled out her blackberry. She spun the device in her fingers and held it out to Tim, who then plucked it from her grasp. With both hands, he punched in his name and phone number before holding it back out to Elenora, but when she went to reach for it, he pulled it back with a flick of his wrist. “Now, I’m trusting you with this. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Got it. No late night booty calls, rebound requests, or drunken confessions of love.”

“Exactly. Only recommendations for lunch, who won Sundays game and is there a cover band playin’ at Rusty’s?” Said Tim as he held the phone back out to her.

Taking it in her hand, Elenora looked at the device and then at Tim. “Thanks, Tim.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask about those cover bands.” Elenora smiled and took a step back from Tim before turning back towards her friends. “And Ma’am, I do apologize.”

The next thing Elenora felt was the slap of a hand on her ass, and she was pretty sure the shock caused her feet to leave the floor. She whipped her head around to look at Tim, who was just retracting his hand and had a smile on his face.

Elenora made her way back to her friends and sat down before handing her phone to one girl, who promptly started clicking away on her phone. Elenora picked up the glass of gin and soda she had left at the table before going to talk to Tim and eyed said man out of the corner of her eye. He had just reached for his beer when his detoured and reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a cell phone, reading the message that came through he turned to look at the table and gave a wave, just as Elenora knew he had been instructed. Now came the embarrassing part.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The girl with Elenora’s phone asked.

“Do it. I want that apartment.” Elenora downed her drink in one swallow and tipped her head down so that her fell over her face to hide the blush that she was sure was currently forming on her cheeks.

“Nora, he’s coming over!”

Elenora’s head shot up, and she turned to see Tim walking towards her. A stern look on his face and his hand resting on his firearm that was holstered at his side. His badge was clearly visible from where it was hooked into his jeans on his right hip.

“Shit, he’s a cop!” one girl said in a hushed tone just as Tim approached the table.

“Oh, you’re screwed, girl.” Came the voice of another girl from across the table.

His phone was still in his other hand and he presented it to Elenora once he was at the table’s edge. “Ma’am, is this you?”

Looking at the phone screen, Elenora saw a picture of herself, naked as the day she was born, standing in Lexington’s founders fountain. “Umm, yes.”

“Do you know that indecent exposure is illegal, especially on State owned property, and carries a criminal sentence?”

“No, but that would make sense.” Elenora’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she could feel herself breaking out in a sweat.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to come with me,” Said Tim as he pocketed his phone and waved Elenora out of the booth, his hand resting on his pistol the entire time.

“Officer, please, you can’t do this. It was just a stupid thing for her to get this apartment. I mean, it’s a really nice apartment, but she can’t go to jail!”

“Ladies, let me introduce myself. I am Deputy United States Marshall Tim Gutterson, and I am going to take you friend here into custody. Now come Ma’am if you will come with me, we are going to have a little talk about our good State’s laws and if I feel as though you will not be a repeat offender perhaps there will not be any paperwork to file.”

“Yes, Marshall.” Said Elenora as she slid from the booth and grabbed her small leather purse from its resting place on her seat.

Tim placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her to turn around. “Hands behind your back, please.”

Elenora felt the cool metal rub and lock against her wrists. ‘where had he been hiding handcuffs‘ she wondered?

“Ladies, enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, Elenora felt Tim touch her, gently pushing at her lower back as he directed her towards the door. Once they were almost there, she felt Tim press himself against her side and his head come into view next to hers. “There now you can cross off being arrested, too.”

“You fucker!” Elenora ground out in a hushed tone. “How did you know?”

“Now Ma’am. You are speaking to a Deputy U.S. Marshal, so let’s watch the language, and I already told you, you weren’t the first girl to come up to me tonight.” Tim said this with a humor to his voice and Elenora could only roll her eyes as the two stepped out onto the sidewalk and into the night air.

Once Elenora knew she would not be seen by her friends, she stepped out of Tim’s grasp and turn on him. “I didn’t pay my tab, Tim. I’m never gonna be allowed back in there now.”

“Don’t worry, I took care of it before I came over. Now come on, SUVs just over there.” Said Tim as he removed his hand from where it rested on his firearm and pointed towards an SUV parked about a half block away.

“Wait, you are actually arresting me?” Elenora’s eyes went wide and while she was sure her cheeks were still flushed, she imagined the rest of her was following.

“Hell no, I don’t wanna do that paperwork. It’s a school night; but if your friends walk out right now, this is gonna look mighty suspicious.”

“Good point. Lead the way, Marshal.” Tim moved and placed his hand on her shoulder and the two walked the short distance to his SUV. Opening the door, Tim helped Elenora into the SUV and once he was tucked in behind the wheel himself, he pulled out the keys to the cuffs.

He held them up and Elenora turned herself around to give him access, but when she did not feel Tim unlocking them, she craned her neck slightly to look at him. “Are you gonna uncuff me, Marshal, or is this something I need to worry about? Being in a vehicle with a stranger?”

When Tim did not answer, Elenora bounced her way around in the seat to look straight on at him. Her mind playing through every horrible scenario her daddy had ever told her. Till finally a smile rose from his lips. “I just need to know. You really doing all this for an apartment? Havin’ a criminal record worth that?”

As he talked, Elenora had pulled a bobby pin from her back pocket and had already had it wedged in the teeth of her left cuff. “You haven’t seen the apartment. Studio, with these giant picture windows and a rooftop patio...” Elenora let out a grunt as she squeezed the cuff on her left hand closed even more than it already was, until she felt the release of the mechanism which she had jammed. “There were twenty of us that applied to her to take over her lease, so she came up with this stupid game.” With her left hand now free of the cuff, she brought her hands around to her front and she watched as Tim’s eyes narrowed at the now empty cuff dangling from her right wrist.

“How’d you do that?” Tim asked, pointing at the cuff with the key he still held in his hand.

“A girl’s gotta’ have some secrets.”

Tim gave a nod of his head and reached forward to unlock the remaining cuff. “Understandable. I mean, I have seen you naked already, and we haven’t even been on a proper date.”

A laugh escaped Elenora’s lips. “You tellin’ me, Marshal, that this is your idea of an improper date, then?”

“I don’t normally get the phone numbers of my perps before arrestin’ them, although maybe that’s how your daddy does it. I’m guessin’ he was also a Marshal, and that’s why you’re stayin’ with Art?”

“Still is. Daddy doesn’t make many friends. Felt it was safest for me to head out this way. Uncle Art was nice enough to offer me a room and protection. His ex-wife lives out here too. We get along well enough, but not enough for me to be spendin’ any time in that home.”

“That meaning she aint your momma?”

“No, that woman died when I was eight, and the state contradicted the bullshit I’d been told of my father. And guess what? He was, in fact, alive and well. Didn’t even know I existed.”

Tim’s face scrunched up and his shoulders gave a shrug. “Ouch, well, at least he wasn’t an ass.”

“See, that’s how I know you’ve never met him. I love him, but he’s the biggest ass I know.”

Elenora noticed Tim’s eyes narrow, and he leaned slightly to the side as he watched something from behind her. “Time to go, unless getting caught in this ruse won’t lose you this amazing apartment?”

“Nope, let’s go Marshal,” Said Elenora as she quickly situated herself in the seat and threw on her seat belt.

Tim quickly backed up the SUV and pulled out of the stall, heading down the road with no destination in sight. “Technically, it’s Deputy, but you know I’m not actually arresting you. There is no need for the formality.”

“Maybe I like it. Maybe it’s the gin talkin’, but callin’ you, Marshal, means I’m less likely to be thinking any impure thoughts about you and this improper date.”

Tim’s wrist rested on the top of the steering wheel and his other laid on his thigh, his thumb drumming against his leg. Elenora figured it was a nervous tick or an unconscious way to keep his hands busy. Lots of Marshals had military backgrounds and the way he called her ma’am made her believe he might be one of them.

He remained silent for several seconds until the hand on his leg jumped up and gripped the wheel. Turning it with a sharp pull, Tim brought the vehicle into the parking lot of a dimly lit park and brought it to a stop in one of the parking stalls. He pushed up on the shifter, putting the SUV into park before turning to look at her with a starved look. Like she was water in the desert and he had been stranded for weeks.

“Ma’am, I’m not one to touch someone without their consent unless I’m working, so I need you to tell me you are okay with me kissing you right now. If not, I’ll drive you to wherever you wanna go and we can go abo...” Tim did not get to finish the thought. Elenora had unbuckled herself so fast she wasn’t even sure she had done it till she was already sitting astride Tim, her face an inch from his.

“I’m gonna keep callin’ you Marshal, if you keep callin’ me, ma’am.”

“Understood.” Replied Tim, who then brought his hands up to hover just above her hips.

A giggle left Elenora, and she put her hands to Tim’s chest. “While I, and the women of the world, appreciate your views on consent, I’m sitting on your lap, Tim. You have my permission to touch me.”

With that, his hands clasped down on her hips, and his lips were on hers. His hands pulled at her tucked in tank top till he could get his hands on the skin of her back, where he let them rest as he continued to kiss her. Elenora was seeing stars. The kiss was intense. It felt as though she was the only thing he had ever wanted to kiss. Her body shivered as his thumbs rubbed at the skin on her side, just ghosting towards her stomach. Her hands, on the other hand, had moved up his chest, one now rested on the side of his neck while the other sprawled into his hair.

Elenora could taste the whiskey on his lips, and she felt Tim pull on her, sliding her further into his lap, and to where she could feel him hardening underneath her.

They pulled apart from each other slightly when finally they were so out of breath they could not continue. Elenora dipped her head and bring her lips to his neck where she peppered kisses up towards his ear, and in response she felt a hand slide up her back, coming to rest once his fingers had poised themselves at the clasp of her bra. When her teeth reached his earlobe and she bit down, Tim let out a long groan. “Not to sound too desperate here, but it’s been a while,” Tim began in a whisper. “So if you are gonna keep kissing me there, this might be over real fa... shit.”

“What?” Asked Elenora as she pulled back and looked down at Tim.

“Never thought I wish to be a teenager again, storing condoms in my glove-box.”

“I have an IUD, so we are safe, as long as you are clean...”

“Have to be having sex to get anything...”

“Well then, Marshal, looks like we’re all set.” Elenora rocked her hips into Tim’s and then brought her lips back down to his.

A knock sounded on the glass, and both Elenora and Tim jumped apart in unison. Both turned to see a man dressed in a black police jacket and the butt of a flashlight resting on the window. Extracting his hands, Tim rolled down the window and flinched as the officer spun his flashlight to shine into the SUV. “Okay love birds, this isn’t... Deputy Gutterson, is that you?”

Elenora squinted at the light till finally she had to turn her eyes away and cast them down at Tim’s chest. “Oh hey, Thompson. Yeah, we were just...”

“Not in the park, man.” Said the officer with a laugh.

“We were just leaving.” Replied Tim.

Elenora noticed the light from the flashlight disappear with a click. “You to have a good night and be safe now.”

A few moments later, Elenora felt fingers under her jaw and, after a slight pressure, bring her head back up to face the man in front of her. “Well, if that was a mood breaker, I don’t know what is.” Tim let a laugh out and Elenora followed. The giggles left her lips until Tim’s lips captured hers once more, his hands pushing into her hair as he increased the intensity. She let the kiss go for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Well Marshal, is this the point in the night you drive me home or do we go back to your place? Because I would really rather not be arrested for a second time tonight.”

“I didn’t really arrest you.” Whispered Tim as he pulled a hand from her hair and used his thumb to rub lightly at her the spot on her chin right below her ear.

Smirking, Elenora squirmed in Tim’s lap, and the man beneath her let out a groan. “You did put me in handcuffs.” Elenora pecked at Tim’s lips. Tim let out another groan. However, this one caused Elenora to pull away and narrow her eyes at him. “What?”

“See, I know I should take you home, the home of which my boss lives at, but all I can think about right now is how good you looked in that photo naked.”

“Well then, the next choice seems like it’s up to you.”

Chapter Two

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Four

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.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Chapter Four:

“You know you don’t have to come.” Said Elenora as she walked through the dark, along the concrete driveway next to Tim. The house in front of them was massive, white wooden siding and stone archways. It was in the nicer part of Lexington, the type of house that had more bathrooms than bedrooms. There were lamp posts near the entrance that lit the large white porch and entry way.

“And miss the chance to see what you’re like plastered? No way, Ma’am.” Tim replied with a laugh.

Elenora rolled her eyes as the two of them came to a stand at the doorway to the house. “I will not get plastered. Moving day is tomorrow, you know.” Reaching forward, Elenora pressed the doorbell and then casually smoothed out her simple knee length burgundy dress. It had no sleeved, but a high buttoned up collar. She had used a large and chunky brown leather belt with it, and her favorite cowboy boots. Tim had opted for a grey button down no tie, black jeans and his usual boots. The party was supposed to be dressy casual.

“Oh, I know. It was mighty nice of Art to volunteer us all. He even said the new guy is comin’ out to help. Still think you should have worn the hat. Who could have thought you could go from sexy school teacher to sexy cowgirl?”

“New guy?” Elenora began, as she ignored the rest of Tim’s comments. “You tellin’ me that you aren’t short man on the totem pole anymore?”

“Yeah, he starts the day after tomorrow, I guess. Said little else.”

The door to the house was flung open and arms enveloped Elenora. “NORA! YOU MADE IT!”

Stumbling back with the force, Elenora as well wrapped her arms around the girl, although it was more out of fear of falling than anything. She saw Tim’s arm shoot out in response and felt his light touch where his hand contacted the spot between her shoulder blades.

When the girl pulled away, she looked at Elenora and then at Tim. “Hey, I know you.”

“Tim, Mandy, Mandy, Tim.” Elenora introduced one to the other. “Mandy is the one that sent you that picture on my behalf, and Tim is the Deputy that arrested me.”

“Nora, didn’t know you had it in you.” Said Mandy, as she eyed Tim like he was a piece of meat. “Wait, I don’t know if I can let you in here...” Elenora and Tim had already discussed the fact that there would be underage drinking and, most likely, marijuana at the party.

Tim stuck a finger from each hand into a belt loop and cracked a smile. “I’m off the clock. Unless one of your guests decides to shoot someone, or has an outstanding warrant, you won’t have any problems with me.”

“Good, now come on, I wanna know all the details. Like if you guys hooked up before or after processing, cause this prude will never tell me anything about her sex life.” Mandy hooked her arm into Tim’s and directed him inside.

“Ma’am, I hate to disappoint but I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

Mandy craned her head back to Elenora, who was still standing at the doorway. “He called me Ma’am!” She then let out a giggle.

“Yeah, he likes to do that.” Smiled Elenora as she moved to follow Tim and Mandy.

When they entered, the party was already in full swing. There were people everywhere, mainly they were Education students, but there were many that Elenora did not recognize. There were even a few Professors and their spouses. Elenora and Tim were led into the kitchen where there were buckets filled with ice hosing bottles of beer and coolers. Elenora watched one person open a fridge, which looked to only contain more beer. There was mix and hard liquors on the counter, as well as red solo cups everywhere. She could hear people cheering somewhere else in the house. It was here that Mandy finally released Tim and told them to help themselves. Tim fished out a bottle of beer and held it out towards Elenora, who took it with a smile.

At some point in the night, Elenora was dragged away from Tim, although he had found someone that he knew, a man in the Lexington PD who had also served. He was married to one of the professors, so Elenora did not feel too bad leaving him behind while she did some shots.

“We’re done bitches!” One girl screamed, and the ring of girls, including Elenora, tossed back a shot of whiskey. Elenora slammed her glass down with a smile and looked at her friends, who were all as equally happy and drunk.

“That hot piece of man can’t take his eyes off of you, Nora.”

“He called me Ma’am when they came in. It was the cutest thing.” Mandy said with a hand to her heart.

Elenora looked over her shoulder to see Tim in the next room. He was leaning against a doorframe, taking a swig of his beer while the surrounding group conversed. His eyes, though, were hard set on her. It was a look that made her knees weak and her skin go warm. Elenora loved the way he looked at her. “He is a pretty great catch, isn’t he?”

With a confidence that could only be fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol she had drank, she smirked at Tim. Elenora eyed him and tried to convey every emotion she was feeling and Tim responded with a raised brow. “Someone hold my dress.” Turning and heading out to the deck that was off the kitchen, Elenora waited as her friends gathered around her before looking at the man holding the spout for the beer keg. “You ready?” She asked. He nodded with a smile and presented the keg to her.

“All yours, little lady. You ready?” With a nod, Elenora threw her hands on the handles and pushed off with her legs. Swinging herself over, she felt someone grab her legs to stabilize her, and she felt her dress fall in the wrong direction, before hastily being grabbed and brought back to cover her modesty. The man holding the spout held it to Elenora’s lips and opened it, and she began to drink. Her heartbeat pounded in her head as the seconds went by, and she was sure she could hear people were cheering her on, although it was hard to make out what they were saying.

When she couldn’t go any longer, she let her legs fall back down and the spout pulled away. Once she was upright, she brought the back of her hand to her lips and wiped away the beer that had dribbled on her. Then she turned around. The crowd of people cheered her on, probably more so because she did not immediately hurl like many before her. Elenora’s eyes though searched the crowd until she found Tim.

He was standing there, one arm folded over the other across his chest. There was a smile on his lips and his eyes narrowed as she stood in place, just watching him. She felt someone slap a hand on her shoulder in congratulations and one of her male classmates come up, hugged her, and lifted her into the air before spinning her around. When her feet were back on the ground, her eyes found Tim’s once again and he was looking at her now like she had something on her face.

Elenora looked at him quizzically, but her question was interrupted by Mandy bringing her yet another shot of whiskey. “So, does he have a brother? Please say he has a brother?”

“I’m not sure. We have avoided the topic of family pretty heavily.” Elenora downed the shot and watched as Tim approached the two of them.

“Well, if he does, I call dibs.”

“If he does what?” Asked Tim with a sly smile as he came to stand next to Elenora. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Oh, I was just wondering if there was a way to get me one of you.” Mandy said with a smile.

“Sorry to disappoint Ma’am, but there’s only one of me, and I’m kind of stuck on this one here.” Said Tim, before twisting his head to place a kiss on Elenora’s hair.

“Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.” Said Mandy before she turned and walked away.

Leaning his head down to Elenora’s ear, she could smell the beer on his breath. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I’d be good with that.” Elenora replied.

“Good, because I already called us a taxi.”

With a nod, Elenora and Tim walked through the house and out the front door to stand on the porch while they waited for the Taxi. Elenora watched as Tim fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt as he stared off out into the yard. “What you thinkin’ about there, solider?” Asked Elenora as she leaned herself against one of the porch beams, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Honestly? Just waitin’ for the ball to drop.” He stopped fidgeting then and took the few steps to stand in front of Elenora. Reaching out, Tim put his hands to her hips and pulled himself as close as he could. He tipped down his head to put his forehead against hers and brought his nose to touch her own. “You’re too good. Too perfect, and those things in my life don’t tend to stay that way. Keep expecting to see your arrest warrant come across my desk, or for you to tell me that while this was fun but your boyfriend is coming home tomorrow.”

“Ouch, hate to be one of your Ex’s.” Elenora put her hands to Tim’s forearms and smiled. “But Tim, neither of those things are gonna happen. What’s got you thinkin’ like this?”

“There’s something about you that makes me feel like I’ve known you my whole life and you got me thinkin’ in all sorts of ways I’ve never thought before.”

“Oh, and what would those be, Marshal?”

“Girl’s gotta’ have some secrets.”

“Okay, you can keep your secrets, but only if you take me to the range. I haven’t gotten my carry and conceal, and my daddy keeps buggin’ me. Threaten to come out here, and I’d really rather that not happen, as I like you with no bullet holes.”

“Is this the alcohol talking, or are you just tryin’ to get me hard? Talkin’ bout going to the shooting range. It’s like you’re made from my dreams.” Tim’s lips crashed against her own, his tongue swiping across her lips, in a request to deepen the kiss, and Elenora complied. Opening her mouth, she allowed Tim entry and soon her tongue was against his own and Elenora found her knees going weak, just as Tim finally pulled away. “Wait, do you even know how to fire a gun?” He pulled back slightly and stared down at her with a questioning gaze.

“You really think my Deputy Marshal of a father wouldn’t teach me how to shoot?”

Tim’s hands tightened on Elenora’s hips. “Hey, just wondering what I have to work with here.”

Elenora opened her mouth to respond, but a loud succession of car honks interrupted her. Both of them turned to see a taxi had pulled up along the driveway. “Come on, our carriage awaits.” Tim pulled away from Elenora but reached out to take her hand in his, and he walked away. When she did not move, though, the resistance made him stop and look back at her.

“I don’t need to worry bout you gettin’ scared and runnin’ do I?”

“We’re good Nell. I’ll let you know, though, if my feet start getting an itch.” Tim said with a smile.

“Good, cause I’m an excellent runner, and you, Tim Gutterson, are worth runnin’ for.”

“You know you’ve never told me your last name?”

“I’m not wearing my runnin’ shoes for that answer. So try to keep an even pace for me, okay?” Tim nodded his head in response and just stared at her with a smile. “It���s Crowder.” Elenora broke her eyes away from Tim as she felt his hand drop from her own and she looked down at the ground.

It was a split second later when she saw Tim’s feet in front of her and felt a finger curl around her chin, pulling up and forcing her to look at him. “Well, there’s a name that keeps coming across my desk, but you’re gonna have to do better than being a Crowder to scare me away.”

Chapter Five

[smurphyse]

Death From Above

Series Summary: Tim has a bad day. His girlfriend dumps him, he punches an FBI Agent, and they’re getting a new girl in the office. He hooks up with a mysterious woman from a local joint, only to find out that she’s their new co-worker. As she settles more in Harlan County, her past comes back knocking, and it will send the whole office into an epic shitstorm that they may not recover from.

Part 1 - Cover/Disclaimer

Part 2 - Tim Gutterson and the terrible, awful, no good day (but hey, it ends in sex!)

Part 3 - Moonlight Curls

Part 4 - Gutterson the Gossip

Part 5 - The Crowders are Assholes

Part 6 - Sins of the Father

Part 7 - The Trouble with Trouble

Part 8 - Shitkicker Country

[smurphyse]

The Trouble with Trouble

Smurph's Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 7 of Death From Above

Word Count: 3212

Warnings: vomiting, mentions of dead bodies

Summary: Tim wakes up at Hilly's and meets her daughters. Hilly officially meets Abby for the first time.

To his horror, when Tim woke up he realized he was not in his own bed. He wasn't even on his own couch, or in his own home. 

Peeling his eyes open, hungover and a little pissy, he found himself looking back into what he thought were two sets of cat eyes. 

One pair were ice blue, surrounded by a poof of orange hair, and the other were emerald green with their own mass of dark curls. 

"Who the hell are you?" the ginger girl asked, eyeing him critically in the dim lighting of Hilly's living room. Tim frowned and held a hand over his eyes to block some of the lamps and the sun coming in through the window. 

"Is he homeless?" the dark haired one asked, and the other shook her head. 

"He doesn't look homeless."

"What?" he asked, squinting painfully and grimacing at them. 

"Mom!" they both hollered in a tone that made poor hungover Tim cover his ears and wince. 

As Tim slowly sat up they backed away from him. He was wrapped up in an orange fuzzy blanket and lying on a bright pink couch with little memory of how he got there. 

He had a vague recollection of taking a right out of Joe's parking instead of a left, of Hilly in a pair of black panties and a gray tank top… but nothing else. 

"If this is about that fucking diary, I swear to God, Ivy," Hilly grumbled as she stumbled through the path of boxes from the hallway, rubbing her eyes roughly. 

Her cheeks went red as she spotted Tim on the couch, her gaze flicking to the girls and back to him. 

The dark haired one set her hand on her hip and waved at him, "Who is this?"

"Tim," he grunted, whipping the blanket off and swinging his feet off the cushions. 

"He's a friend," Hilly shrugged, and she padded into the kitchen. Tim could hear the distinct sound of clinking mugs and the coffee pot, then she came back into the living room.

"You don't have friends," the ginger one said,  and Hilly shot her a glare. They both had strange accents, but unlike Hilly's Tim could recognize the French in their cadence. It was subtle, but stronger than Hilly's, and hers was definitely not French. 

He still couldn't figure out what it was. 

"Thanks, Clover," she mumbled. Still clad in her underwear, she handed him a bright orange mug. He took it with a grateful grunt and a long sip. It was the same way he took it, burning hot and black. 

"You hungry?" Ivy asked, and Tim looked up at her nervously. Hilly's cheeks turned darker, and she pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Uh," Tim hummed, looking between the girls and Hilly. "I'm good, I'll get outta your hair."

"Oh, so you sleep with our mom but you won't have breakfast with us?"

"Ivy," Hilly warned, shooting her a dark look, "That's how you talk to strangers?"

Ivy turned to Clover with a smirk, "She totally slept with him."

"Yup," Clover grinned back, crossing her arms and looking way too much like Hilly for Tim's liking. They both did, it was unsettling, like all three girls were shades of one another. 

Tim set his cup on the coffee table and went about lacing up his boots, deciding it was best he not continue partaking in this conversation. Hilly made a grumbling growl of a noise and the girls quickly fled into the kitchen, giggling to one another while Hilly turned to him sheepishly.

"Sorry about them," she winced as he stood, taking a sip from the cup and shrugging. 

"I don't have any friends either."

Hilly bit back a smile and led him to the door, following him out onto the porch. She sipped from a blue cup while he awkwardly tried to finish his own, not wanting to dismiss her kind gesture of giving it to him. 

"They're French?" he asked after a moment, and Hilly shook her head. 

"They're from Boston, like me," she smiled proudly, standing a little straighter and beaming at him. "They grew up mostly in Paris, though."

"What the hell are you doin' here then? From what I hear that's a pretty nice place."

Hilly blanched, and her other hand came up to feather along the scar on her face, but she quickly dropped it and squeezed it into a fist. 

"Just wanted a change, I guess."

"I thought you came from the Washington office?" he asked, the memory of Rachel's investigative work surfacing. 

Hilly shrugged again, looking down at her feet and shuffling them, "We were only there for a year. My ex was with the FBI field office out there. I only joined the Marshal Service because we moved back to the states for his new detail."

"You don't seem like the kinda gal to move somewhere for a guy," Tim said without thinking, immediately shrinking away when her sharp gaze shot to his. 

"You don't know what kind of gal I am, Gutterson," she muttered dangerously, and he nodded. 

"Fair 'nough," he drawled back, his shitty form of an apology. The tension in her shoulders eased a bit and she took another sip of her coffee. "I'll see you at the office? I wanna head down to Harlan again to see if we can find Devon Cox."

"Sure," she said stiffly, but she flashed him a smile. 

Tim wasn’t sure what kind of gal Hilly O'Malley was, and he wasn't sure he'd ever truly know. 

He liked her well enough, though, and when she took the mug from him she kissed his cheek, and he found himself leaning into the press of her lips… just a bit.

"If you ever feel like it's not right going home again," she said softly, standing too close for a coworker, especially in her panties and thin tank top. Her perfume washed over him and he gulped slowly as he watched those dark eyes glitter in the morning light. 

"My couch is always open, Tim."

Without another word Hilly turned on her heel and stepped back inside, and of course Tim watched her backside with a little dopey grin on his cheeks. 

The trouble with trouble is it starts out as fun, a quote surfaced in his hungover brain as he ambled down the steps to his truck.

Yeah, he was hip deep in trouble with that girl. He liked her, even though he knew damn well he shouldn't. 

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

Hilly groaned in annoyance as she pulled her Jeep into the courthouse parking lot. The robin egg blue ‘90 Wrangler was her most prized possession, and she’d had it since she was sixteen, so seeing Gerry’s contact name pop up on her phone in its little cradle on the dash sent her already bad mood to just plain shitty.

His stupid photo flashed across the screen, and in it she stood right beside him. They beamed at the camera, his fluffy brown curls and crooked grin that matched her own. That familiar ache rocked through her chest as it did each time he called, and each time she refused to answer. 

Hilly listened to the agonizingly upbeat ringtone and stared soullessly at the screen until it went back to her lockscreen, a photo of the twins sitting together on the balcony of their flat in Paris, and finally a small smile cracked across her cheeks. 

The voicemail notification chimed, popped up on the screen, and then it went blank. Letting out a long sigh, Hilly closed her eyes tightly and pressed the heels of her hands into them.

“Hate this place already, huh?” a voice came from the side. Hilly yelped, her hand automatically going for her holster, but when she looked up she didn’t see an enemy or Frank, just Raylan and his lopsided smirk and his stupid hat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snarled, “I’m carrying a weapon!”

Raylan shrugged, making a little frown, “I figure it looks worse on you than me if you shoot me in the parking lot.”

Hilly grunted, but it was more of a growl, and opened the door without caring that she hit Raylan in the gut as she did so. He stepped back and stuck his hands in his pockets, pretending to patiently wait for her as she grabbed her bookbag and coffee mug.

“Who’s Gerry?” Raylan asked, and Hilly slammed the door to her car shut in response. 

She hurried through the parking lot, rage building through her chest with each clomp of his boots behind her. As she reached the top of the courthouse steps, Raylan’s hand shot out to stop her from opening the door.

“You two look awful happy in that photo,” he drawled, and Hilly just grunted again. “He come to Lexington with you and those little girls?"

"No," she muttered, glaring up at him with all the malice she could muster. After the razzing she got from the girls this morning about Tim and his sleeping on their couch, she really wasn't in the mood to talk about Gerry, especially with Raylan.

"So you're single then?" he asked slowly, a big grin etching across his weathered features. 

"I've got better things to do than sleep with you, Raylan."

"Oh, as lovely as that sounds, I'm not asking for me," he defended himself, "more for Tim. I think the kid could use a bit of fun. He's wound pretty tight."

Hilly grinned at him, and finally he leaned back warily, watching her with a squint. She stepped closer to him and ran her palm up his chest, delighting in the way he swallowed thickly and tensed under her touch. Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear.

“Things I could do to you, Givens, you wouldn’t want me saving them for Tim.”

“Oh, oh,” he stammered, a nice heat rushing to his cheeks. “And those things would be-?”

Without waiting for him to finish, Hilly reached between them and slapped him in the crotch, just hard enough to stun. Raylan let out an oof and doubled over, resting his head on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. Hilly patted his back lightly and smiled at passersby.

“Ask me about my personal life again, and I’m gonna do a lot worse to you,” she growled, then shoved him off her and went inside. He sank to his knees and groaned, much to Hilly’s pleasure.

She’d spotted Tim’s truck in the same spot as yesterday when she’d pulled in, but when she made it to the bullpen he was in Art’s office. Art had that same glare he’d had before he brought her into his office. Tim was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, wringing them together and staring at his lap as he spoke.

Hilly went about her business, setting her things down and topping off her coffee with the stuff Tim made. She’d had the afternoon pot that Nelson made, and it sucked ass. Tim’s at least had some flavor to it, black like grease, the best way to drink it.

As she was heading back to her desk, the woman she’d seen talking to Tim stepped through the double doors. Dressed in a sweet floral dress and matching cardigan, breakup box, Abby, looked painfully uncomfortable and nervous as she caught Hilly’s eye.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” she asked politely, rounding her desk and sitting on the edge. 

Abby crossed her arms awkwardly and uncrossed them, angling her head to see Tim in the office. She looked back to Hilly and crossed her arms again while she sipped her coffee coolly.

“Uhm, I’m Abby,” she stuttered, and Hilly decided right then that she quite liked Abby. Her cheeks tinged red and she smiled sweetly at Hilly, who smiled back.

“Hilly, nice to meet you.”

“Do you know how long they’ll be?” she asked, pointing at Art’s office. 

Hilly shrugged, “I just got here, sorry.”

"Oh," she deflated, pouting a bit and biting her cheek. 

She rubbed her lower belly absentmindedly, and before Hilly could heed her own warning about poking into people's personal lives she found herself asking, "How far along are you?"

Abby’s face and chest flushed, her pale skin turning beat red as she palmed her stomach and beamed, "Ten weeks. Am I already that big?"

Hating how often she was right about the little things, it all clicked for her. This was why Tim showed up to her place drunk as a skunk the night before. She wasn’t sure why, but it hurt a little bit, and made her a little proud, to be a place of comfort for him when he was frightened. 

She might be a little fucked up.

Hilly shook her head, "You just have a glow is all."

Abby chuckled lightly, but then slapped a hand over her mouth and turned toward the door, "Excuse me."

As she fled through the glass, Hilly followed for some reason. They passed a limping Raylan exiting the elevator on their way to the bathroom, glowering and cursing to himself. 

As Hilly entered the bathroom, she could already hear the distinct sound of vomiting in the stall closest to the door. She spotted Abby on her knees with her head in the toilet, trying and failing to hold her hair out of her face. 

Hilly danced her fingers along her shoulder so as not to scare her before pulling her hair back. Abby glanced up long enough to see who it was touching her, but quickly emptied her stomach again into the bowl. 

The sounds were horrendous, and Hilly was glad she had the iron stomach that came from years of clandestine work. Smelling rotting bodies and worse meant she'd developed a rather resilient gag reflex. 

"I'm sorry," Abby groaned pitifully, and Hilly simply kneeled behind her and gathered up her pretty blonde locks and rubbed her back with her free hand. "This is so embarrassing."

"Hey, you're the one creating life with your body," she said playfully, "you get to be as gross as it makes you be and you're still a goddess."

Abby laughed as she pulled her head out of the toilet, sitting back on her knees and wiping her chin with the back of her hand. She smiled sheepishly at Hilly as she leaned against the wall of the stall, muttering a thanks as Hilly released her hold on her hair. 

Not wanting to leave a pregnant woman to clean herself up in a shitty bathroom that equated to a gas station one in the middle of nowhere, Hilly tugged on the toilet paper roll and gave her a handful of it, then settled down on the other side of the stall. 

"Do you have any kids?" Abby asked quietly as she wiped her mouth. She missed a bit of it, so Hilly grabbed more paper and helped her out. 

"Yeah." 

"Did you get this sick when you were pregnant? Raylan’s ex-wife, Winona, she was sick the first six months of her term."

"I didn't give birth to my kids," Hilly shrugged, tossing the soiled toilet paper into the porcelain. 

"Your wife, then?" Abby drawled, an open and honest look of curiosity on her face as she did the same. 

Hilly shook her head and chuckled, "I adopted my sisters when they were five. Never had a wife, had a husband for a while though. Suppose I still do."

"Oh," she nodded, "was he a good dad to them?"

Hilly's blood boiled in her ears. Gerry was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially to a stranger, but there was something about the way Abby talked and listened that made her want to share it with her. 

"Yeah, he did his best."

"I think Tim's scared to be a dad," she frowned, tugging on her fingers and staring at her lap. "I don't think his daddy was very nice, but he'll be a great one if he lets himself be."

“Some men just aren’t meant to be dads,” Hilly shrugged, thinking about her own father. That man definitely wasn’t meant to be a father, and even though he’d slapped Hilly around quite a bit, the fondest memory she had of him was him teaching her how to properly load a 10 mm Glock and shoot it without blowing out her shoulder.

Abby’s gaze flashed from sweet to protective as her gaze shot up, “Tim’s a wonderful man. He’ll be the best father.”

Hilly smiled at the ferocity in such a soft woman. She liked it, and she could see what Tim liked about Abby. “I meant his daddy.”

The fire was gone in a flash, replaced by an embarrassed smile, “I see a lot of bad daddy’s in my line of work. I’m a caseworker with CPS.”

“Woman like you, made of steel? I’m sure you can handle yourself around them.”

“I do.”

They watched one another with small smiles, appreciating one another in the shitty little bathroom on the fourth floor of a Lexington courthouse. Hilly didn’t have any friends here, had left most of the few she had behind in Paris to come to Washington with Gerry before they separated. She liked Abby, liked the thought of having her as a friend even more, but just as she was about to ask her out for a drink of the non-alcoholic variety, the door burst open once more.

“Abby?” Tim’s voice came as his boots pounded the tile floor. “Raylan said you looked sick and-.”

He stopped in his tracks as he rounded the stall, his eyes going wide as he spotted Hilly and Abby sitting on the floor. Hilly blew out an awkward breath and got to her feet, reaching out a hand to help Abby up as well. The two women shared a glance before they released their hands, a look that said thank you, nice to meet you, and Hilly was content with that.

“Uhm,” Tim hummed, his gaze flicking between them. Hilly averted her eyes while Abby smiled at him, “You okay, Abs?”

“Yeah, just some morning sickness,” she said, patting her tummy. She waved a hand across the small stall, “Hilly helped me out.”

“Hmm,” was all he said, his brows furrowing, and Hilly took that as her cue to leave. 

Sliding out of the stall, careful to avoid touching Tim, she went to exit the bathroom. Abby’s voice made her stop and turn, and she tried to ignore the little pang in her chest as she saw his hand palming Abby’s belly. 

After what Gerry did to her and her trust, it made Hilly more than a bit angry to be the rebound after learning of Tim’s ex girlfriend’s pregnancy. Hilly wanted more, and while she knew there was no sort of a future with Tim, it stung to have even the slight chance of an option torn away from her so soon.

Tim had been her rebound, so she didn’t have much room to talk.

“Thank you, Hilly.”

“Anytime,” she said, and fled the bathroom as quickly as she could while she still had some dignity.

Notes:

I just really like Abby you guys. I also like the twins and I can't wait to show you more of them.

What do you think Gerry did that made Hilly move all the way across the country to leave him?

[smurphyse]

Gutterson the Gossip

Smurph's Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 4 of Death From Above

Warnings: CW: Mentions of child abuse, some ptsd flashbacks, rough sex

The sex scene is told a bit out of order since it's a flashback!

Summary: How *does* Deputy Gutterson spend his weekends? Welp, we find out! And, as Monday rolls around, the new girl arrives!

Tim’s house was a place of comfort. 

It hadn’t always been that way. When he first moved to Lexington after joining the Marshals Service, he had gotten a small apartment downtown, so he’d be close to the courthouse. It was a studio, and he’d left it pretty barebones. White walls, bare mattress on the floor as far away from both the door and the windows as he could get it. 

It took him a few months to realize it was a glorified prison cell.

So, with some urging from the VA shrink and a little help from Rachel -who’d been his training officer when he first arrived- he had found the house he was in now. He spent the last six years making this his little safe house.

His mom would’ve called it his Hobbit Hole , joking about her little hobbit finally finding a place to rest. It made him think of the two of them, curled tightly together as she read to him under a flashlight, leaning up against his dad’s beat up chevy while the crickets and cicadas sang into the night.

Tim hadn’t actually known how to paint a house when he first moved here. He’d had to do some research, which made him feel like an asshole but hey, he’d grown up in a trailer, what did he know about painting houses? Ultimately he decided it was okay to have to learn the basics, that’s how you get your foothold until you know better. 

He’d gone with a rich shade of green, which had earned him a few raised eyebrows from the neighbors, but he didn’t care. He liked it. It reminded him of his mother.

The front porch had sagged deeply in the middle, which the landlord had promised to fix when she had the free time, but Tim didn’t wait for her to do it. Lynette was an older lady, long salt-and-pepper hair and hippie overalls that were hand embroidered with flowers and bees, and he liked her. She insisted he call her Nettie, and brought him cookies when she had the mind to make them. 

Her house was just next door, a bright purple two story with a wrap around porch that also sagged. She had a huge garden that wrapped from the front yard all the way to the back, little stone pathways weaving throughout the plants and foliage. He could look out his kitchen window at just about any time during the day and see her big floppy sun hat bouncing between the stalks of her plants, flannel patches standing out against the sandy colored monstrosity.

Tim decided to fix both their porches himself, completely ripping them out and re-doing them. Nettie had come home from the farmer’s market, netted bags drooping from her skinny arms and an upset look on her face as she laid eyes on the slats of wood and tools tossed around her front stoop. 

When she noticed Tim her gaze had softened, tears flooding her eyes as she saw that he’d already replaced half of the porch in the few hours she’d been gone. He hadn’t known what to do, his back stiff and anxious until she threw her arms around him and squeezed. 

“Well, somebody doesn’t have to pay rent this month!” Nettie blubbered, wiping her nose roughly on her sleeve as she pulled away from him.

Tim shook his head firmly, “No, ma’am, this is just so you don’t have to find someone to do it for you. I’m payin’ that rent.”

Nettie smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners from years of practiced use, “How can I repay you?”

“A glass of lemonade sure would make this worth my while,” he shrugged, dragging his hand across the back of his neck and smiling back.

“I can do that. Easy as breathin’.”

Since then, Tim had found himself on Nettie’s porch more nights than he didn’t. If he got home at a decent time he usually knocked on her door, saying hello and sometimes coming inside to help with one thing or another. One time he’d gotten asked to help tug some string out from her sewing machine, it had been really stuck, and ended up spending three hours getting a sewing lesson and making a set of potholders. They were green with a white flower print, and damn it all to hell if he wasn’t just a little bit proud of them. 

They usually sat on her porch and drank lemonade and bourbon, gossiping about the neighbors or talking about the plants. He helped her weed and harvest on Sundays, and they’d take everything down to her stall at the farmer’s market. Tim would sit behind her on a stool, reading or helping carry stuff while keeping one eye on the customers.

Nettie helped him find some nice furniture from a variety of swap meets and friends of hers. He ended up with a plush yellow couch that was absolutely garish to the eye, but it was usually more comfortable to Tim than his bed. A white armchair with pink and yellow flowers was on one end of the room, back facing the large windows. He had a TV, but he never really watched it, choosing instead to listen to music and read when he had downtime. He only kept it so Nicky and Tim could play Xbox when he and Rachel came over now and then.

The back wall of the living room was stuffed with books and shelves, all full and overflowing at this point. Six years of finally settling in had led Tim to be the type to pick up a variety of knick knacks and just about any book he found. 

His little kitchen had a table and a few mismatched chairs. He picked up cooking a bit, but still had a lot to learn. Nettie would give him a recipe or two a week to try out, fully indulging the good habits he had. She didn’t usually approve of his binge drinking or one-night stands, though she’d told him once that sometimes it was okay to indulge in them, so long as they remained indulgences and not addictions. He was still trying to find that line.

He’d carved out a life for himself in Lexington, and he was happy with it for the most part. Abby breaking up with him had been a blow, but he’d get through it. He settled into his little Hobbit Hole and braced for the emotional crash that would surely come after his night with Hilly, as great as it had been. 

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

The rest of the weekend passed without much incident, though. Tim went through his usual routine- wake up by five am, start the coffee pot, go for a run, drink coffee in the shower and try to relax a bit. Try to keep bourbon out of your coffee mug, you lush.

Around seven Nettie knocked softly on the front door before letting herself in. Tim was in the kitchen, mulling about while trying to figure out what to make for breakfast. 

“Hey, stranger,” Nettie called as she closed the door behind her.

“In the kitchen,” Tim replied.

“Makin’ a mess?” she asked, making her way into the kitchen/dinette area and pulling out a chair for herself.

“What else am I supposed to be doin’ in here?” he smirked, finally deciding on some eggs. He pulled a carton out of the fridge, along with some vegetables and cottage cheese. 

He went about mixing the ingredients together. An ex-girlfriend had actually turned him onto putting a tablespoon or two of cottage cheese in his eggs. He’d been pretty skeptical at first, but after trying it once he was hooked. As he started pouring the mixtures into a pan, Nettie spoke up again.

“You had a house guest last night.”

Tim looked over to where she sat, staring at him expectantly. Had it not been for the bright green overalls and the obnoxiously large plastic daisy pinned into her long hair, he might have described the look she gave him as ‘stern’.

“I did,” he said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. “Abby broke up with me. I didn’t do anything untoward.”

“I wasn’t implying that you did.”

Tim sighed, feeling a bit defeated and it was only seven a.m., “So, what are you implying?”

“Just making an observation. You didn’t check on me yesterday, so I figured you’d had yourself a day.”

“I did.”

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” 

Tim sighed again. He pulled out two plates and piled the scrambled eggs onto them before heading to the table. Nettie took one without complaint, always happy for a free meal.  

“She left me a note.”

“A note?”

“What did it say?” Nettie asked, eyes wide. She was never a huge fan of Abby. Sure, she liked her well enough, she was a sweet girl. But she had cautiously told Tim a few times, after a few drinks, that she thought Abby was too sweet for Tim. He deserved a good girl, but he wasn’t the type to settle for a good girl, he needed a rebel, someone to pull him out of his comfort zone and push him.

“A note.”

Tim shrugged, “I haven’t read it. I don’t really want to. She didn’t even really dump me, just dropped off a box of my stuff and that fuckin’ envelope.”

“I’m sure she just needed the space. She’s a shy girl, I bet bringing the box over was hard enough for her,” Nettie nodded, taking in Tim’s dour expression. 

“She’s scared of me, Nettie, I’m never gonna see her again unless it’s at work.” 

“Honey, she’s not scared of you. You gave her a good fright, I’m sure, but if she was payin’ any attention during your relationship, she’d know you would never do anything to actually hurt her.”

“But I did hurt her, Net.” Tim chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from getting too worked up. 

He’d seen Abby, sweet Abby, naked and bruised and it had been because of him. That night, as his mind tore at him in place of a comforting sleep, all he could see was his mother, covered in bruises and hiding with Tim in the woods behind their trailer as his father raged and ranted while he searched for them. 

He couldn’t, he wouldn’t let that happen again. He wouldn’t be like that, so he hadn’t fought to talk to Abby again after that. He said his apologies and then he left, unable to bear her stiff and trembling figure.

She reminded him too much of his mother. He reminded himself too much of his father.

“All you can do is say you’re sorry. You can’t go back and make it so it never happened. You didn’t mean to, sweetie, that’s the difference between you and whatever monster you’ve got rattlin’ around in that head of yours.”

Tim nodded, slowly picking at his eggs, no longer hungry. 

“Do you want me to read it for you?”

Tim smiled at her. He really loved Nettie. 

“No, I’ll read it. I just need a minute.”

“Take your time. It took her almost a month to bring that box over, so you can take a few days to read that note.”

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

He avoided Abby’s box. 

He spent the rest of Saturday on the couch, trying to read and pretend the box wasn’t sitting on the other end like some awkward house guest that wouldn’t leave. After spending hours with anxiety and guilt swirling around in his stomach, he finally snapped it up and tossed it into the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

As the sun began to set, burnt orange and pink blazing through the front windows and interrupting his now box-free reading haze, he thought of Hilly. 

Her skin was like fire, it engulfed him as her hands reached up to tangle into his hair and pull him closer as he curled around her with his arms. He ran his fingers over the back of her sweater as he pushed her toward the nearest wall, both desperate to pick up their pace. She let out a small moan as her back hit, and Tim, ever the opportunist, snaked his tongue into her mouth.

Her tongue attacked his back, determined to melt Tim from the inside out. His mind wandered to what that tongue, that heat , would feel like wrapped around his cock. He groaned softly at the thought, pushing himself tighter against her, peppering open-mouthed kisses down her neck. 

“God, you feel like you’re on fire,” Tim dragged his teeth lightly against her jugular, smiling when her hips jerked against his. 

Hilly chuckled, her fingers danced under his shirt as she pulled it above his head, tossing it into some dark corner of the living room. He could taste vanilla on her tongue from the bourbon, and with the deep coffee scent of her perfume, Tim felt surrounded by her. He was hot, flush with the feeling of her skin against his, and he wanted more. He wanted to get lost in this, in the feeling of her and her heat. 

Tim had managed to get her to three orgasms last night, though he almost fucking burst after the first one.

As he stood back up, he slid his hand into her jeans, keeping care to stay above her panties, kissing back up her stomach as she cursed quietly above him. He placed another kiss on the hollow of her throat and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs clenching involuntarily as he rubbed her gently through the fabric.

“I’m going to sound off as I pull these orgasms out of you,” he whispered into her ear, tugging on the lobe lightly with his teeth, and she whimpered at the sensation, her fingernails grazing down his back, their naked chests flush against one another. 

He then flipped her against the wall, snaking one hand around her waist, the other dipping into her folds. Her hips bucked again as his fingers slid over her throbbing clit. She was soaked through and Tim’s cock pulsed at the thought of how she would feel wrapped around him. 

She was already coming apart in his hands, her hips shaking as she rested her forehead against the wall, relying on his arm around her waist to hold her up. 

“Tim, Christ ,” she moaned breathlessly, and Tim grinned against her neck as he felt the rush of fluid that coated his fingers, her aching thighs clenching for him.

When her hips ceased their shuddering, Tim mercifully removed his hand from her ruined panties. He flipped her again to face him, her body pliant and limp in his arms as he picked her up.

“One,” he growled, giving her lips a sharp nip before pulling her off the wall.

He had honestly surprised himself. It had been a long time since he’d tossed someone around like that. He and Abby had slept together plenty, but she was very shy and soft, and he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but gentle and slow with her, and she didn’t push him for anything more. 

Hilly had been soft, but she’d also been wild and unapologetic, telling him exactly what she wanted. He gladly gave it to her, and she gladly took it. He had been ready to play, excited and willing to push and shove and give and take, and Hilly had been what he needed. He hoped he’d been what she needed.

Tim had been a bit disappointed that he didn’t even get her phone number, but he knew better than to push a woman like that after she’d given an answer. There was no way she’d gotten all those scars by taking it lying down.

He managed to pull away from her long enough to pull her shirt off of her as well, and she took the moment to run her hand across the large “R” tattooed on his chest, then to a shrapnel scar across the left side of his ribs. 

He trailed hers as well, a silent acknowledgement of his keeping to the terms of their deal so she wouldn’t ask him about his scars either. He ignored the small tattoo heart over the left side of her chest, Frank scrawled across the unfurling banner. Whoever Frank was, he probably was the one who marked her, and Tim didn’t want to think about that.

The scar on her chest was definitely surgical, dipping down between her breasts to the base of her sternum. She had a few scars spattered across her side like he did. They even looked the same as his; which were the result of the splinters of a humvee door as it exploded while he was inside it. 

She was littered with scars. She had more that ripped over her left shoulder and down her bicep, tendriling to the back of her hand. He didn’t think he’d ever met someone who had more battle scars than him. He wondered if she served, but bit his tongue. 

She eyed him cautiously, and he felt her hesitation, ready to leave if he pushed her in a way that wasn’t against a wall. 

He leaned back down, placing a firm kiss on her lips, and felt the greediness return from her. He laced a hand into her thick curls and gave a small tug as her hands went for the belt of his jeans. 

She gave a small moan, her hips bucking up into him primally, her nails grazing his stomach as her fingers clenched around his waistband. It ignited him, and he snapped the clasp of her bra, pulling it off her hungrily and throwing it behind him. 

He let out a small groan of satisfaction at the sight of her breasts, her nipples were pierced with dainty gold bars. He ran his hands over them lightly, giving one an experimental tug. Her hips jerked forward again. 

“Don’t tease me, Tim,” she warned, her eyes hungry and dark. He leaned forward, catching her bottom lip between his teeth as he gave another soft tug to her nipple, and she bit his back in return.

Yeah… he’d definitely gotten enough last night to store in his spank bank for a while, Hilly’s phone number be damned.

It was the end of October, so he and Nettie spent their Sunday getting the plants ready for winter. It was hard work, and he did most of it, sneakily coaxing Nettie into a lawn chair every chance he got, distracting her with questions about her childhood as an army brat coasting around the world.

It had been a nice weekend, and the anxiety he’d expected from punching Delano had mostly dissipated until Sunday evening. Fuckin’ Delano. Art would probably understand, but he’d yell at Tim for a bit before backing off. 

He still hadn’t read Abby’s letter.

He was first in the office, as per usual. Tim preferred it that way, enjoyed mulling about the room while making coffee and listening to a good radio station. Nelson usually changed it when he got in, always to a shitty country channel with hosts Tim couldn’t stand. He liked the classic rock station better.

He sat down at his desk, setting his coffee down and unlocking his computer. As he waited for the ungodly slow system to log in, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. 

He’d had a pretty bad nightmare the night before, no doubt brought on by the weight in his gut dreading seeing Art today and the special moonshine Nettie brought out when she thought he might be having a bad day. He’d had a bit more than he meant to, slurrily gossiping with her about Mrs. Johnson across the street, who was definitely sleeping with the mailman while her husband was at work. Thing was, the mailman was a good thirty years younger than Mrs. Johnson. Tim and Nettie did not approve.

The nightmare he’d had was just another memory, blurred and stilted by paranoia and panic from his current life. 

Mark’s leg turned inside out, acrid smoke burning his nostrils. He can’t close his ears to the screaming. It just won’t stop. His heart’s about to burst out of his chest and he can feel something hot dripping down the inside of his pant leg. Blood? Piss? He didn’t know. The sand moved under him like a wave as he caught a glimpse of Abby before everything went black.

Wait. Abby?

“I’m looking for Chief Deputy Mullen.” A voice startled him out of his memory, his body jerking forward defensively, hands going for his holster. 

It was a woman, standing in front of his desk and looking toward Art’s office. A damn familiar woman. He could only see the right side of her face, her dark eyes taking in the clutter of the chief’s home away from home. Her hair was wild, curly, big and long, landing halfway down her back. A black backpack was slung over one shoulder. Without seeing that scar on the other side of her face, he knew exactly who she was. 

Hilly.

He glanced at the clock, 6:36 am, and back toward her. Clearly she hadn’t really looked at him or she might recognize him. “He doesn’t get in until seven, usually. Can I help you?”

She turned toward him, jaw clenched tightly and her eyes unexpressive. No recognition passed over her face as she stared at Tim, and he felt his stomach sink. Just a little.

Her eyes made him want to turn away, but he held his ground, taking a sip of his coffee and staring right back. 

Two can play at this game, darlin’.  

The corner of her lip twitched up into a smile, and she spoke again.

“Asbestos mouth.”

“That’s what they call people who drink coffee piping hot.”

Tim put down his cup, “Excuse me?”

He nodded, “That’s the best way to drink it.”

“I agree.”

“Did you wanna wait for Art? If you want I can take your name and number and he’ll get back to you.” Tim pulled a pad from under a stack of papers and held it toward her. She stared at it for a second, then back to him, not moving. 

“I’m Helen O’Malley. I’m supposed to begin work here today.” 

Fuck. Me.

Art was going to fucking kill him.

She thrust her hand over the notepad. Tim looked down at it, noticing more scars he hadn’t noticed Friday night. These looked like they were from busted knuckles and the like. Past them he noticed ink and paint stains.

“Do you not shake hands?” she asked, pulling back a bit. As though they hadn’t fucked like rabbits a few days ago. As if she didn’t have bruises on her hips from his fingertips. As if his back didn’t still ache from her nails. As if he didn’t know she had a large mottled scar wrapping across her left thigh. As though he didn’t know all of these things. 

Hilly broke the kiss, ragged and panting while Tim went to work on her neck and chest, sucking deep bruises along the olive skin as he went. Untangling his fingers from her hair, he cupped one of her breasts, tugging on her nipple as he latched on to the other. Her back arched sharply, gasping as he took her into his mouth.

His tongue swirled around the hardening bud, Hilly writhing beneath him as curses flew past her lips. He grazed his teeth against her nipple as his other hand began tugging down her panties. 

He trailed a finger down her slit, wrapping his hand around the crook of her thigh and giving it a squeeze. She whimpered above him, thighs clenching in anticipation as he teased her, tracing circles along the inside of her thighs. 

“Tim,” she moaned, lacing her fingers into his hair pulling him closer as he moved his tongue from one nipple to the other, giving her the same treatment. “Please.”

“Please what?” He grinned, placing an open mouth kiss between her breasts. She groaned underneath him, tugging tightly on his hair.

“Please make me come,” she begged.

Tim stood, dropping the notepad on his desk and stuck out his hand to meet hers, grasping it firmly. No limp-wristing it just because she was a woman. In fact, he made a point to squeeze just a little too hard in retaliation for her pretending not to know him.

She held his grip firm, gaze unyielding and uncompromising. It gave no indication that she recognized him except for the small smirk set on her face. Like she knew something he didn’t, except they both knew. They both knew what the other looked like naked, they both knew what the other sounded like when they came. It was too much to know about your coworker, especially when you knew nothing else about them.

He was painfully aware of the fact that he had not let go of her hand. To be fair, she hadn’t let go of his either. It was burning hot. Fuck. 

She smiled at him, and he shook it one more time before letting go. She leaned back a bit to look at his nameplate. She’s playing a long game. Fine. I’ll still play.  

“Well, Deputy Gutterson, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. Call me Tim.”

“Call me Hilly,” she nodded, glancing around the room, noting the empty desks, “Where is everyone?”

“Most people don’t get here until eight, nine.”

“Since Ranger school I haven’t slept past six thirty, so I’m usually here early too. Most of the Marshals here haven’t been in the service, and it’s not as busy as other districts, so they come in later.”

She made a face, “I can’t sleep past five. I’m usually at work around six. Doesn’t eight seem a bit late in the day?”

She nodded again, ignoring his Ranger comment. Most people’s eyes lit up at the mention of it, and he was quietly relieved not to have to talk about it after last night’s nightmare. 

“My last office didn’t have many either, so I was always first to arrive.”

“You serve?”

“No, not in the way that you did, Tim.” She shook her head and looked around again, always keeping her front to him, hand on her hip, near her holster. “Where is my desk?”

Tim pointed to the empty desk across from him, which was directly across from Raylan’s, and would give them all the opportunity to ogle the new girl without having to crane their necks. Nelson had offered to move, but Raylan and Tim had staunchly objected, hoping the new girl would be a nice view to have.

And she was, scars and all. Her olive skin and dark eyes were warm as syrup. Had it not been for the mottled scar and steel-backed gaze, Tim probably would have assumed she was too soft to be a Marshal. Maybe she was once.

Hilly didn’t look like a typical Marshal.  She wore dark jeans with her light-weight sweater and cheetah printed sneakers. Her hair was huge, curls poking out and pointing in all directions, and she pushed it out of her way and over one shoulder as she sat down at her new desk, looking through the drawers and adjusting her chair.

“Are you going anywhere today?” she asked, fidgeting with some of the knick knacks she’d placed on the desk. “If so, I’d like to come along, learn more about the area. If that’s alright.”

Maybe she really didn’t recognize him. Tim hated to admit it, but if that was the case then he was nowhere near as good in bed as he’d assumed he was. He had plenty of proof, he thought, having left behind a fair sized trail of satisfied bed partners along the way, even if they weren’t satisfied with the relationship.

“I’ve got some plans to head down to Harlan County and look for a fugitive. It’s more Raylan’s territory but because of him we’re all down there every other week for some bullshit reason or another.”

“Raylan?” she laughed and shook her head.

“Givens. He’s another deputy.”

“I figured. I forgot what names were like in this part of the country. It’s been awhile,” she chuckled again, pulling a coffee cup out of her bag and heading toward the coffee maker on the other side of the room.

Tim took another sip of his own coffee, a little annoyed she got so much enjoyment out of Raylan’s name. He watched her as she walked, admiring her shape, annoyance replaced by smug satisfaction that he knew what she looked like underneath those jeans. She was thin and curvy, well muscled and very short, probably only five foot three at most. He could see a tattoo on the back of her neck. A black-lined pair of eyes, full of rage and glaring back at him.

She filled her cup and came back to her desk, raking a hand through her big curls again. She leaned back and looked at him. “What?”

“You really don’t recognize me?”

The faintest sliver of a smile played across her full lips, and Tim’s eyes narrowed in response. 

“You sound like you’re from Northwest Georgia.”

Tim blinked in surprise. Nobody ever guessed that. They all figured he was from Kentucky or Tennessee. He grew up right next to the Tennessee border, which meant he might as well have grown up in Tennessee, but the distinction was a point of pride where he grew up.

Her accent was gone again, hidden again underneath a completely average and plain American one. She must hide it when she has the mind to. The only times he’d really noticed it was after two bourbons, when she was sleepy, and when she came.

“You guessed right. Outside of Chickamauga, right across the border from Chattanooga, Tennessee.” He paused for a moment, biting on the clicker of his pen, “You didn’t answer my question.”

She continued to stare at him. If it wasn’t the same move he often pulled, he would feel awkward staring back. She never faltered, her gaze steady and full of steel, that small smile on her face.

“Well, you’re early, Deputy O’Malley. I figured you west coast people liked to wake up late,” Art cracked as he walked in through the double glass doors. 

“Good thing I’m not a west coast girl, Chief,” she threw back at him, not missing a beat. 

Art nodded in appreciation as he walked to the door of his office, “It seems you met Deputy Gutterson.” 

He threw a warning glance at Tim over his shoulder, a quick reminder of their conversation the previous week. No sleeping with the new girl. Tim nodded back, bringing his hands up in subjugation, like he hadn’t already broken that rule without meaning to. 

Hilly looked between the two for a moment, still leaning back in her chair, “He’s every bit as charming as you said he would be. I take it he’s not the one with the cowboy hat?” 

“That would be Raylan Givens, resident asshole and semi-qualified Lawman,” Art glowered, propping his door open with his foot and motioning for her to follow him. 

“Ah, should’ve guessed, name like that,” Hilly chuckled again at Raylan’s name, standing up from her desk and catching Tim’s eye as she passed, “Sounds like a Lawman’s name, I’ll decide for myself if he’s an asshole when I meet him.” 

She stepped into Art’s office and sat down in one of the chairs. Art followed, but not before he gave Tim a withering glare, yet another warning not to sleep with the new girl, which was unfortunate because he already had. Tim just smiled back slowly, trying to keep from watching the two as they chatted in Art’s office. 

Tim wanted to keep watching. He had a great view of her from his chair. From the side and slightly toward the back of her, he could see as she flipped her mass of curls over her shoulder, the slender curve of her neck to her stretched ears, a silver pair of earrings he could see through, small pearls decorated the piercing right next to them. He could also see those angry eyes staring back at him, no doubt a warning of Hilly’s to stay away.

How did a girl covered in scars with stretched ears become a U.S. Deputy Marshal? And a Feeb before that? He supposed she could have gotten the scars on the job, that would make sense, though how she could have gotten them was a wonder. 

“You serve?”

“No, not in the way that you did, Tim.”

What the hell did that mean? 

Maybe she spent time in the Middle East. That would mean she’d worked in Intelligence, or maybe even PsyOps. There was no way they’d let a girl with those ears and scars take part in interrogation in Afghanistan or Iraq. The men wouldn’t talk to her for being a woman, and no woman would speak to her with scars like that, period. 

Rachel was the next to come in, her purse in one hand, bag of bagels in the other. She set her stuff down and headed over to him, opening the bag as she approached. Tim took his bagel out of the bag, pointing at Art’s office as he did so. Art made eye contact with Rachel and gave a small wave, causing Hilly to turn toward them. 

Tim gave a small wave back as Rachel did. Hilly gave an uncomfortable smile and turned back to Art, continuing whatever they were talking about. 

“Jesus, now I know why they don’t have a picture of her in her file,” Rachel whispered, sitting down in the second seat next to his desk. She took out her bagel and started to open the cream cheese spread, “but damn if she still doesn't look cute as hell with her face all ripped up.” 

“You planning on going for that?” Tim asked playfully, dipping his finger in the cream cheese. Rachel slapped his arm back and gave a small joking growl. He should know better than to mess with her before she eats breakfast. 

“Please, we know if I go for any girl I’m gonna get her, unlike you and Deputy Dipshit,” Rachel laughed, turning the handle of Tim’s coffee mug around, picking it up and taking a sip. “Besides, Art said nobody can sleep with her.” 

“And we all do what Art tells us to,” Tim muttered, taking his coffee back from her. 

“You will, if you know what’s good for you. Plus, a girl that looks like that, beautiful and cut up all to hell, she’s been through some shit that you don’t want any part of. She probably has no intention of dating another person ever again. Her ex is probably the one that did that to her.” 

“That’s what I figured. You gotta hate someone to do that to their face, I’d think.” 

“Do what to whose face?” Raylan asked as he walked up to the desks, sipping out of a paper coffee cup. Tim figured he probably had a nip or two of bourbon in there. 

“New girl has landed,” Rachel nods her head toward Art’s office. 

Raylan craned his neck toward the door, only to meet Art’s glowering gaze. He tipped his coffee toward his Chief, then turned back to Rachel and Tim. 

“She looks cute enough from behind. Definitely young, but I wouldn’t call her too young , per se.” He winked at Tim, who shook his head back in response. 

“Trust me, it’s territory you do not want to enter.” 

“Why?” Raylan asked, “She crazy? Hair like that she’s gotta be wild. Whether it’s good or bad crazy is yet to be decided. You can’t have talked to her that much already.”

Tim throws his hands up in an “I don’t know” gesture. Let Raylan figure that out for himself. He didn’t think Hilly would like Raylan’s nature all that much from what he’d seen of her demeanor. Or at least, he hoped she wouldn’t like him.

Raylan quickly turned back to his desk and sat down, pretending to be distracted by his computer as Hilly and Art stepped out of the office. They walked toward the middle of the bullpen before Art introduced her to Rachel and Raylan. 

“Rachel Brooks, Raylan Givens, this is Hilly O’Malley, our newest transfer.” Rachel stood up and stuck out her hand toward Hilly, who took it firmly as she had Tim’s.

“I look forward to working with you,” Rachel smiled, all southern charm, as always. 

“You as well,” Hilly smiled back, pointing her other hand toward Rachel’s earrings. “Those are gorgeous, I have a similar pair but they’re emeralds.”

Rachel instinctively went to her ear with her free hand, the other still clasped in Hilly’s. That seemed to be a power move Hilly used, not being the first to let go, the first to say Uncle. 

“Thank you, they were a gift from Tim for my birthday last year.” 

“Well it’s good to know the people here give good gifts, I might have to actually tell people when my birthday is,” Hilly chuckled.

Rachel finally released Hilly’s hand, flexing it a bit as she stuck it in her pocket. “Yeah, I noticed that wasn’t in your file. There’s not much of anything in there, actually.” 

“I did a lot of work for the DOJ and State Department, as well as Homeland, so most of my information is classified since some of those cases are still open.” 

Rachel nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. She excused herself and went back to her desk, forgetting her bagel at Tim’s, which he quickly took a bite out of before she claimed it. 

Raylan stood up from his desk and walked toward Hilly, sticking out his hand as he reached her. She turned toward him, finally letting him see the scarring on the left side of her face and chest. Raylan stopped in his tracks and pulled his hand back. 

“My goodness , darlin’, what the hell happened to you?”

“Raylan,” Art warned, taking a step between the two younger Marshals. Tim instinctively rose from his seat at Art’s tone.

“It’s okay, Chief, it’s not the worst reaction I’ve gotten,” Hilly let out a chuckle and reached her hand out toward Raylan, a peace offering. 

He didn’t take it, of course, “Make a lot of kids cry, do ya?” Another growl from Art.

“Oh yeah, a lot of them point and yell, ‘Monster!’ when they see me, actually,” she said calmly, not backing down from the challenge, her hand still in the empty space between them. “I’m sure they do the same to you, face like that and all.” 

Raylan smiled wolfishly, making Tim’s skin prickle. Asshole . Raylan clasped Hilly’s hand, shaking it twice before letting it go. “That’s what the hat’s for, to hide my disfigurement and all.” 

“Makes sense. I’d hide in shame, too, if I looked like that.” She turned to Art, who was still glaring at Raylan, “I asked Deputy Gutterson to take me on a ride-along today, to get to know the area. Is that okay with you, Chief?” 

Art looked to Tim again with a glare that almost caused him to sit down in defeat, then back at the new girl, who looked expectantly at him. Tim wanted to get out of there before Art had a chance to check his messages. He didn’t really want to be yelled at in front of Hilly.

Art nodded, “Sure, why not? Just so long as you don’t cause any international incidents on your first day.” 

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she grinned, then headed back to her desk for her bag. Art turned on his heel and went back into his office, pointedly shutting the door behind him.

Raylan followed her back to her desk, “You know, I actually grew up ‘round here. I think I might be a touch better at showing you around town.” 

Hilly looked at him, her hand on her hip, “Right, but I asked Tim to show me around. Early bird gets the worm and all. I know you all wanna get a chance to see what the new girl can do. If I got these scars doing my job well, or if I’m a total fuckup, going from the Feds to the Marshals Service.” 

She took a step toward Raylan, intimidating with her small, muscled frame compared to his lanky one. “I can promise you, I’m here because I wanna be here. I chose this assignment. As for the scars, you should see what I did to the guy who gave them to me.” She looked around Raylan, who stood speechless, to Tim. “You ready to show me the ropes, Ranger?” 

“Yeah, how did you get those?” Raylan asked as she walked away from him, a layer of annoyance in his voice, “Get caught in a fishing line?”

Hilly turned and gave him another smile, “Something like that.” 

“Looks like it hurt.” 

“I’ve had worse.” 

They stared at one another for a long moment. Hilly’s amused gaze meeting Raylan’s frustrated one. Finally, Raylan tipped his hat to her and went back to his desk, seemingly satisfied with his button pushing. She hadn’t budged like he expected her to.

She turned back to Tim again, nodding her head toward the office doors. He walked around his desk, throwing a look at Raylan as he followed out the new Marshal. Rachel chuckled at her desk, watching Raylan sulk in his chair, his cowboy hat turned down to hide his face.

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Notes:

You guys weren't surprised that the new girl was Hilly, right? I don't think I was sneaky about that.

Do you like Nettie? I love her.

And what do we feel about learning more of Tim's childhood? I've had quite a few headcanons swirling around in this angsty brain for a while, tbh!