#raylan x winona

[pretendfan]

{I need you}

🖤Raylan Givens x Winona Hawkins🖤

{S1 episode12: The time when Winona visits Raylan late one night at his motel room, reimagined with more smut and conversation between the characters}

A/N: This is exactly what happens when I start watching a new show and I get invested, this is just a practice story of getting used to writing Raylan, none of this was asked for or probably makes sense but here it is🤣Givens brainrot💀but that gif thou “he gimme that look, the panties coming off…”

{Warnings: 18 plus ONLY, nothing but net smut, if harlequin romance wrote smut, cheesy but hot, loosely based on scene from season one, teasing, oral sex (both parties), p in v, happy endings, minor argument}

🖤3.1k🖤

Wrestling with the idea of either closing his eyes for a quick rest, or refilling his glass with more bourbon, Raylan Givens makes his choice then instantly regrets it when he hears a soft knock at his door.

There were few people who knew of the US Marshal’s whereabouts at this motel, he was just out of Harlan but Raylan knew that folk talked, so anyone could be here for a little chit chat on someone else’s behalf right now to try and put the wind up him.

…Raylan Givens had a lot of enemies, but he wouldn’t have it any other way, enjoying the chase was a perk of his job amongst others of course.

Being back in Kentucky for too long already he wondered again who it was calling at this late hour, taking a generous gulp of his drink he puts the tumbler down, hoping the visitor behind the door at least was a friendly one as he gets up from his bed.

What with Boyd and his dad Bo up to their usual bullshit, whilst Arlo was still performing his old tricks as well, and then there was Ava who was currently giving him the cold shoulder. These thoughts causing Raylan to grab his gun by the bedside table, just in case, because it could be absolutely anyone waiting to speak with him.

Sure he had a name for himself being both quick to judge and on the draw, gun happy he wasn’t Raylan just knew when to shoot first, defusing a situation with one glance which was exactly how he had ended up here back in his hometown.

Shaking these ridiculous thoughts from his mind Raylan slowly opens the motel door, and is shocked to see his ex wife, but the moment passes when he swiftly ushers her inside the room.

Quickly trying to gage the look on Winona’s face but even after all this time, he couldn’t help but stare down at her and get lost in those damn blue eyes, the ones that had watched him leave time and time again.

“What’s happened-“

“It’s nothing, I shouldn’t even be here.” Winona states looking away from Raylan, eyeing the door like she had just made a huge mistake.

“Is it your husband Gary again-“

“Are you surgically attached to that damn hat of yours?” Winona asks with a laugh cutting off her ex husband, whose dark brown eyes are rewarding her with a heavy stare.

“Is that why you’re here to talk about my damn hat!”Raylan stops talking when he looks down, to see Winona removing the gold wedding band from her left hand.

“I’m here for you.” Winona explains eyes wide as she glances at Raylan, who in turn removes his hat from his head revealing dark dishevelled hair.

“Clearly but why is that-“ Raylan starts to ask but is cut off, when Winona takes a single step forward, and then she kisses him purposefully on the lips.

Raylan leans closer into the embrace unsure where to place his hands, so he puts one on Winona’s right hip ever so gently, causing her to entwine both of her hands into his white tank top with a tight grip.

Moments later she pulls away like a skittish animal placing a hand over her lips, watching Raylan whose brown eyes are trained on her causing Winona to smile widely despite herself.

“That-“

“Shouldn’t have happened.” Cuts in Winona with a quick nod, whilst trying to keep her voice firm but it’s no good, she knew exactly why she was here and resisting was never her strong point.

“Well it looks like you enjoyed it.” Raylan informs Winona with a smirk on his handsome face, him moving nearer to his ex wife who looked like she also wanted to have some fun.

Raylan remembered the signs and seeing how Winona was breathing heavily, eyes gliding over his form, whilst her hands were balled tightly into fists he knew that he was moments away from providing her with some relief.

“I know why you are here.” Raylan states with a smug smile unable to look away, watching as Winona undoes the belt around her long pea green coat which makes him momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I need you.” Winona declares in a soft voice as he watches her pull off her coat, revealing black lace underwear to match those black heels which were in fact driving him wild.

Raylan didn’t need to be told twice as he tipped his head to kiss Winona, who invited him back in tongue and all as they made out almost like desperate teenagers, whilst he guided her onto the edge of his bed.

Standing in front of Winona he looks down to watch her hands make short work of his belt, closely followed by his pants zip as Raylan shrugs off his white tank top, then pulls gently on the back of her hair to remove the clip that resided there.

Looking up from her task in hand Winona smiles up at Raylan, who was taking in her curly brown hair spread across her shoulders, and the curve of her breasts in that lacy bra that should be on his motel floor by now.

Reaching a hand round her back to unclip said item of clothing, Raylan gives Winona a confused glance when she moves his hand away, a playful look bringing out the pretty features on her face.

“My turn first.” Winona states with a bite of her bottom lip as she uses both hands, to free Raylan from the confines of his pants, eliciting a warm groan from his mouth as she takes his thick cock in her right hand.

With her thumb circling around the head of his cock Winona grips her hand tighter around Raylan, who she notices has his mouth parted gently, whilst his eyes are watching her every move so it was time to put on a show.

Removing her hand suddenly Winona continues to look up at Raylan, who was hard and ready but she just wanted to tease him a little first, spreading kissing from the top of his thighs to that damn V shaped muscle he had silhouetted on either side of his hips.

Raylan’s whole body jerks when Winona finally licks the head of his penis, then opening her mouth starts to take him with the help of her tongue and the muscle memory of doing this many times before.

When he is as deep in her mouth as he could go, Winona hears groaning from Raylan as he strokes the back of her head, and she continues to lick the underside of his cock whilst sucking hard on his full firm length.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” Raylan hisses as he places another hand on Winona’s head, which makes her start to suck sloppily as he guides her, his breath quickening which causes his thighs to shake.

Winona doesn’t relent she wants to suck him dry as she continues her tempo, re introducing her hand to grip onto his length until a moment or two later the hot sting of his release hits the back of her throat.

The noises and soft swearing that escapes from Raylan’s lips make Winona groan, swallowing his seed and not missing a drop of the salty nectar, until he gently pulls her away from him.

“Wow.” Raylan declares followed by another slew of curse words until he then states “Now it’s my turn.”

“I’m the one making-“

“Stand up.” Raylan cuts Winona off in a deep authoritative voice, that has her doing exactly as she was damn told for once whilst he steps out of his pants.

Mouths entwined once again Raylan gently pushes Winona onto the bed, she complies and lays down on her back hair spread angelically behind her, but the look on her face told a completely different story.

Raylan places a hand on either side of her head as he hovers above Winona, who he sees still has that look on her face the one that always got him into bed, but now it was his turn to make her lose all control.

Tracing kisses down her front Raylan stops at one of her breasts, following the curve with his tongue causing Winona to arch her back in response, covering his mouth over her nipple still encased in the bra which briefly annoys him.

Treating the other breast with the same respect, Raylan focuses on the task at hand unable to resist pinching her nipple, which causes Winona to gasp as their eyes lock and he grins back looking cocky.

“I still know what you like.” Teases Raylan with a dark chuckle.

“Well stop talking and put that mouth to work then.” Winona states with a lick of her bottom lip.

“Yes ma’am.” Raylan nod with a smile reconnecting his lips to bare skin, as he lowers his head and traces kisses, down south towards Winona’s belly button pausing to look up and see her watching him very carefully.

Placing his hands on her hips Raylan holds Winona in place, brown eyes focused on the black lace underwear tracing the fabric with his thumbs, whilst letting out a hot breath that he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding.

“Ass up beautiful.” Raylan demands watching as Winona silently does what he asks of her again, letting him pull down the underwear to reveal heaven as he almost forgets what he was in fact doing.

Winona kicks away the second to last item of clothing, whilst Raylan moves backwards off the bed to settle on the ugly motel carpet, on his knees naked as the day he was born but with a wide smile on his face.

Moving closer Raylan starts to kiss Winona’s soft inner thigh, but not without using his tongue on the other side, he liked to do things properly eyes darkening as he takes in her pussy and like a man possessed he darts out his tongue.

Licking along her pussy lips with a purpose as his mouth meets her clit, the tip of his tongue teasing the bud of delight when he hears Winona sigh, like sweet music to his ears causing his cock to jerk in response.

It’s when he covers his whole mouth over the throbbing peak of nerves, that Winona cries out hands launching out to grab onto anything, catching one of his muscled arms and forehead as she lifts up off the bed.

“You need to stay still.” Raylan states lifting his head up to see Winona with glazed eyes, biting her bottom lip so sharply he was sure he would soon see blood.

“What if I don’t?” Winona asks with an arched eyebrow aimed in her ex husbands direction.

“I will stop-“

“Fine by me I don’t need you, I know what I like.” Winona retorts flippantly always on the defensive with Raylan, even during sex it seemed but this time she knew she was right.

Raylan watches with a choked breath as Winona uses her right hand to spread her wet lips, showing him exactly how she liked it with those lithe fingers of hers, which was a sight to behold but he desperately wanted to taste her again.

“You just keep those magic fingers of yours there.” Raylan informs Winona grabbing her wrist to move her hands upwards.

Watching as she places two tips of her fingers over that pretty pink bud, Raylan’s cock leaking from the sight but he uses his own fingers this time, watching as he pushes one inside of her pussy then uses his tongue to taste her delicious sweetness once again.

“Holy shit!” Winona whines as she moves her left hand from Raylan’s forehead to his thick hair, tugging at the front which causes him to grunt back but carry on devouring her pussy regardless.

Introducing a second finger Raylan feels Winona’s fingers rubbing harder over her clit, he could sense she was getting close especially when her pussy gripped his fingers even tighter, making him wish she was riding his cock right this second.

Pushing her hand away Raylan quickly covers his mouth once more over her mound, tongue exploring the sweet yet tangy flavour, groaning when he feels Winona yank his hair harder at the very same time that she finds her release.

Raylan rides out Winona’s orgasm with his mouth firmly attached to her pussy, his tongue feeling her walls spasm as she soaked his face with her juices, until she is yanking his head away by his hair taking deep breaths as she finally lays still.

“That was-“

“Think you could fuck me?” Winona ask with a wry smile, when she sees what Raylan is packing, his penis which was cocked and ready for some action.

“What do you think?” Raylan questions but not waiting for an answer, as he drops onto the bed manoeuvring himself, so Winona was now on top of him.

Raylan watches in awe as Winona finally removes the lace bra to reveal her breasts, arching himself up so he could finally taste her nipples, enjoying the feeling of them hardening on his tongue.

Placing his hands on top of her thighs to hold her down, feeling the head of his cock brush against Winona’s wet lips causing him to rock his hips, then curse as she lowers herself onto his shaft hands moving to her waist instead gripping tightly.

“Good girl, taking me so well.” Raylan states when Winona is fully seated on him, eyes closed whilst her hands hold firm onto his broad shoulders.

“Can I ride you now?” Winona asks opening her eyes to reward him with a sexy wink.

“Like a rodeo horse use me however you want, because I have got the best seat in the house.” Raylan laughs teasingly but the sound soon fades, when he feels Winona start to move on his hard cock.

Moving her hands from Raylan’s shoulders she slides them down the hard plains of his chest, feeling his muscles spasm under her palms as his chest hair tickles her fingers, but right now she was more interested in being fucked the good old fashioned way.

Winona cups her breasts with her hands noticing the look on Raylan’s face, so she continues to play which he clearly appreciates, because he starts to desperately thrust upwards causing him to hit her sweet spot over and over.

This causes Winona’s pussy muscles to clamp down hard on his cock, with Raylan clenching his teeth together because he was being milked, and he wasn’t going to last much longer so he speeds up which makes her cry out above him.

“I’m coming!” Winona shouts as she places her hands back, onto Raylan’s now damp chest, as she feels her orgasm rinse her body dry and a various array of noises escape from her mouth.

Pretty soon Raylan finds himself following Winona as he jerks his hips once more, then feels his release as he chases his high shallow thrusts causing Winona to groan, until he finally relaxes back down on the bed.

“Did I just make you meow?” Raylan asks Winona continuing before she can reply “I’ve never made a woman meow before!”

“And you still haven’t-“

“Are you sure?” Raylan asks cutting off Winona with a laugh, as he opens his arms wide and she moves off him, welcoming his embrace in the heat of the moment.

“Definitely sure Raylan.” Winona smiles as she catches him staring at her, suddenly feeling safe in his arms burying her head in his neck for extra comfort.

Silence ensues as both parties are lost in their own thoughts, still holding each other close as if it was all they had, because in some ways they always seemed to find one another each and every time.

Moments later Winona breaks away from Raylan’s arms, avoiding the look on his face as she gets up from the lumpy bed, attempting to locate her underwear in the dimly lit room.

“One for the road?” Raylan asks causing Winona to look up eyes wide, but then she rolls them after spotting him point at the bottle of bourbon on his bedside table.

“Shouldn’t you have offered me a damn drink first?” Winona questions with a smirk getting dressed back into her underwear, she then locates her heels and steps into them.

“Maybe next time-“

“Raylan.” Winona warns whilst putting her pea green coat back on, then placing a hand into her pocket to retrieve the gold wedding band putting it back onto her left hand.

“What did I say now?” Raylan begins with a snort sitting up on the bed, watching as Winona wraps herself away in her coat then gives him one to those looks like he was in trouble.

“You haven’t said anything-“

“You were the one to come round here and see me!” Raylan cuts off Winona in a stern tone which she didn’t appreciate right now.

“Well you were very quick to turn me away weren’t you?” Retorts Winona raising her voice because she hated to be told facts that she already knew.

“Let’s not kid ourselves here-“

“No, we shouldn’t because this was nothing and I need to go!” Winona declares with a look that signalled this was all over.

“Fine by me!” Raylan shrugs as he watches Winona stare at him once more, a small smile on her face but then she quickly turns to leave, causing him to share a vacant grin with his motel room.

Trouble in the homestead he didn’t care about, but all Raylan knew was that he was a better man than Gary, yet Winona hadn’t stayed with him which still hurt more than it should’ve even after all these years.

Winona was the only woman to have such a chokehold on him, even now as he let her walk away feeling like a loser all over again, knowing that he would need to talk to his ex wife about this at a later date.

For now though he just needed to locate his pants and finish off his drink, in that order maybe treating himself to a couple more shots, because he was now wide awake and all he could smell was his ex wife’s perfume on his bedsheets.

What unfolded had been fun of course it was exactly what he needed most nights, but Raylan was left wanting more something unheard of normally, but Winona always knew how to play with his heart.

Pants back on Raylan finishes his drink in one swift gulp, then pours himself another which follows the same demise, until he lays back down on his bed grabbing his hat to place back over his face.

…because he definitely wasn’t answering again if anyone else knocked on his damn door.

[huntzbergered]

Winona Hawkins may be the worst female character I’ve had to suffer through and somehow she gets progressively worse and worse. Tbh if her character continues to be a main role, I would quit the show based on this piss poor character and acting alone (altho rip, watching Goggins and Olyphant is everything and more). But she’s insufferably written, makes no sense.

[freekicks]

do you ever think about what was like for winona in 2010 to finally get the chance to observe her debilitatingly emotionally repressed ex-husband in his native habitat — aka, smack in the middle of some fraught shenanigans with his former coal-mining buddy?

like, seeing how raylan deals with harlan (and boyd) must have answered so many unanswered questions about their marriage!!!!

what an incredible relief she must have felt to know once and for all that she wasn’t the fucked up one in that relationship.

[galactic-academia]

Through The Door

Rating: T (for language)

Category: F/M

Fandom: Justified

Relationship: Raylan Givens x F!Reader

Tags: Language, angst, fluff, pining, age gap (10 years), making out, mention of violence, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of suicide (but in a cynical way, no one seriously thinks about taking their own life here)

Words : 4K

Summary: Once upon a time, Raylan Givens was the very center of your universe and you would like to think you were – at least – his favorite Moon. Then he left you behind. Now that you're face to face again, what's going to happen ?

Notes : Not canon compliant: no Winona here and Raylan left Kentucky later than in the show. This is dramatic, 4K of desperate pining 😅 I would like to say I don’t know what possessed me, but that would be a lie... 😶 Anyway, I’m not a native, please, forget my mistakes and I hope you’ll enjoy 🤗💖 Dividers are from  animatedglittergraphics-n-more 

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Timothy Olyphant Masterlist

You look down the garden alley leading to the road as the movers puts furnitures up and piles card boxes in every room. Lexington, Kentucky; out of all the lost, forgotten-to-God, shitty places the U.S. Marshals Service could have hidden you, they chose here. All of this because you chose to not keep your damn big mouth shut - no, Hell - because you couldn’t keep it shut, never could, never would. There wouldn’t ever be any point to, now, and what could be worse than this? Whatever the answer could be, a bullet in your own temple still could solve all your problems if the time ever came, anyway.

A deep voice, far from unfamiliar, calling for your Marshal-turned-babysitter for the day wrenches you from the contemplation of the dead wildflowers. Dear God, the bullet in the head might come sooner than expected, in the end.

«If ain’t Raylan Givens in the flesh, I’ll be damned!»

You know it’s him, you would recognise his stupid, handsome face anytime, anywhere. The incomprehension written all over his face, though? It almost makes you doubt. Sure, he’s far older than the last time you saw him, and he looks like a cowboy in a shitty tv show, but the all-seeing, deep, big brown eyes? The cocky smirk? That aloof, arrogant stance? Uhuh, you’re positive, that can’t be anyone else but him.

The surprise turned into suspiciousness doesn’t make him less attractive, but the words coming out of his mouth do make you want to slap him.

«Do I know you, Ma’am?»

Ah! He doesn’t recognise you! Alright, then.

«No».

You don’t plan on explaining yourself furthermore and, after a few moments of awkward silence - when he finally understands he will have to pry if he wants anymore informations, he asks, «But ya know me?»

«Yes». Then, you turn on your heels to go back in your rented-house. It’s been a long time but knowing you were right all along, all these years ago? That you were truly insignificant to him, to the point he can’t make you out a few years later? It stings.

When you were a kid, Raylan was your god. Without any big brother to protect you, it had seemed easy to the little sandbox scums to pick on you, until a fifteen - almost sixteen! - years old Raylan, passing by the elementary school on his bike on his way back from high school, had witnessed two little boys holding you while a third lift your skirt. Two of them went back home with soiled shorts and the third - who’s been stupid enough to try and push you to the ground after Raylan had promised them a hard time if they came near you ever again - with a black eye. That day, six-years-old-you had won a friend, a big brother and a protector all at once.

Not a day passed without Raylan stopping by the playground to check on you since then, until the day your turn came to go to high school, hand in hand with Raylan - or dangling off his arm - with him carrying both your bag and his more often than not. Boys of all ages - including the densest of them - came to understand that messing with you meant messing with Raylan Givens and therefore black eyes, broken arms, lost teeth and aching groins. Even tough he went to college while you stayed in high school, no bullying of any kind would stay unpunished. You did your best to return the favour: breaking windows, puncturing bike tires, stealing and then hiding school bags (for the homework to never be found again) and even, in one memorable occasion, pushing in Harlan’s lake all the little thugs you knew were bothering Raylan. And when his father beat the shit out of him, you would always manage to pass some treats off to him, sometimes with the help of Miss Helen.

There was no Raylan without you, and no you without Raylan. All the girls threw themselves at him, and they hadn’t anything to fear of you - unless your «adopted» big brother had something to complain about them, of course - until you reached something like fifteen. Until your first seventeen years old boyfriend freaking cheated on you and you ran crying into Raylan’s always-welcoming arms. Maybe nothing would have changed - he would have comforted you, let you bundled into one of his sweat by his bed while he beat the inanity of the culprit, then take you out for some ice cream or something like that - if, as the freshly twenty-five young man he was, he hadn’t been hangover as all hell, and maybe even a little drunk still, and did the only sensible thing he could think of at that very moment to make you shut up: grab the back of your head and plant a kiss square on your lips.

It was nothing, just a little peck. The kind you gave the great-aunt who had come from the other side of the country to see you on the day of your First Communion. A desperate, non-violent measure to quiet the noise you made and that kept him from thinking. But, on your side of the story, it has been a revelation.

«Are you fuckin’ serious?»

Raylan was dumbstruck already and Gutterson’s reaction just made it worse. He has been sent to Hell for no apparent reason, right? So why was he the bad guy here?

Turning to his fellow deputy, he chose to answer the question by another question: «What the fuck just happened?»

«You tell me!» Tim was truly offended, crossed arms, exasperated tone and all, «It took me two fucking hours to get her out of her office! Two true hours, not just saying! You point your nose here and bam! She locked herself in this godforsaken office once again! What did you do this time?!»

«Me?! I just... Hell! I just ‘pointed my nose here’ as you put it and I got yelled at on every side!» The Marshal was beginning to lose his temper; he could be blamed for a lot of things, but being dishonest wasn’t one of them. He truly had no idea about why the new U.S. Marshall Services’ protegee was mad at him, he was burning to learn the answer, though. «Who’s this gal, anyway?»

«For fuck sake, Givens!», Marshall Gutterson rolled his eyes before putting his hand to his forehead, even more tired than angry, «Did you even read the fucking record? Or just the memo requiring you here?»

Raylan did his best to look indignant but Tim spoke again before he had any chance to find a good defence, «Don’t bother, I know you didn’t or you would at least know the fucking name of our witness».

«Alright, I didn’t , ok? Art told me to get my goddamn ass here, I did as I was told», the ‘for once’ was only implied, but the force of this implication only helped Gutterson to resigned himself to his usual sassy-self and just sigh your name to his colleague.

The following absolute lack of any smartass remark on Raylan’s side immediately told the deputy something was wrong, and if it hadn’t, the fact that he looked like he had seen a ghost would have.

«You do know her, then?»

«Shit, yeah...»

«And you did something to her?»

«Mate...», Raylan still looked aghast and, somehow, a little amazed, «If she took a fucking gun and shot me right this instant, I would go to the trial and advocate that I fully deserved it.»

Eyes round and mouth a little open, Marshal Gutterson watched his colleague shook himself out of his trance - going from stunned to determined - and ran to the door you were hiding behind, regretting to not have bring any popcorn.

Once again, Raylan Givens could - and should - be blamed for a lot of things, but one never gets bored with him!

The truth - sad as it may be - is that you never loved anyone but Raylan. You tried before, with your shitty first boyfriend, and you tried... After. When you were sure you would never see him again. But it never worked. They weren’t him.

The abrupt understanding of the nature of your feelings towards the one you qualified as a big brother didn’t really change your relationship. Raylan did beat the shit out of the fucker who has attended to your honor and came back to shower you in attention as he always did, and if you had been clingier, or needier he didn’t say anything about it. But less than a month later, he had disappeared. Without an explanation, without a word, without saying goodbye. Miss Helen said he was alright, that he had to leave for his own good. You couldn’t disagree with that. But surely he would come back to take you with him, right? Or at least write, so you would know when he would come back. Or phone.

He couldn’t just have left and let you there like that.

Your turn came to leave Lexington three years later. Three years too late. You came back only when you couldn’t avoid it and hoping - each and every time - that you would run into him and... Throttle him? Throw yourself in his arms? But Raylan never came back and, one day, you stopped coming back altogether too.

You had boyfriends out of Lexington, sure. They weren’t all that bad, but still, never as brave, or as kind and certainly not as piggy headed as the asshole that left you behind. They didn’t know how to make you laugh like him, how to comfort you like only him could. How to make you feel safe. They couldn’t even break your heart as perfectly as Raylan did.

You heard quiet scratches on the door against which you had slumped followed by his voice, low and muted by the wood, but so soft it made your heart ache, «Lil?»

Ah. He remembers, now.

«Lil... I’m so sorry...»

Lil. No one has called you that fore more than fifteen years. He has ever been the only one to call you that, ‘little one’ or ‘lil’. It became a habit, a nickname. Something just between the two of you.

«I figured you would want to... talk? I have some explanations to give, yeah?»

You’re sure he looks even more awkward than he sounds; apologizing has never been Raylan’s forte. You weren’t often mad at him, but when you were, a few words, playful kisses all over your face or a battle of tickles would settle everything. Nothing was important enough to endanger what you had.

«Are we gonna have this conversation through the fuckin’ door? Out of the two of us, I’m supposed to be the grumpy one, remember? Lil’?»

You can resist. He can’t kiss or tickle you right now, only talk. You have survived without him for the last fifteen years, ignoring him won’t be a big deal.

«You gonna make me beg, don’t ya? Hell, you wouldn’t believe how many assholes would pay a pretty penny to hear me beg you to open this fucking door, you know? I don’t beg. I don’t. But for you, I will.»

Hell, you forgot how the fucker can sweet-talk anyone into anything. You don’t say «no», to Raylan Givens, it’s physically impossible - to you, at least. You want to smash your own head on the wall, but you’re smiling.

«Baby», oh no, not that, «Baby, please, open the door». His voice is nearer now, like he dropped to his knees on the other side of the door. And his voice’s gone a little rough, you would think him on the verge of tears, if you didn’t know better. «If you want to hurt me, I’ll let you, I deserve it. I will let you yell at me. You can insult me. Or even just ignore me, but I need you to open this door, please. Let me see you. Let me know you’re ok. Baby, please.»

You always loved when Raylan called you «baby». It was a rare treat meant to either placate you or emphasize a praise. You’re drowning in it, now. A loud, choked sob startles you into the present moment, you didn’t even notice you had started crying.

«Ok», his voice is so soft now, you’re surprised you still can hear it trough the wooden panel, «I’ve said everything I could while on this side of the door. Now I’m gonna wait for you to go outta there and then we can speak some more. I’m not goin’ anywhere, take your time.»

Hugging your chest, you lean your head against the door. You should be proud of yourself: for the first time in your life, you were able to resist to Raylan Givens. Thanks to a door that blocked out everything except his voice, but still a victory. Maybe you could taste a parcel of it if the gaping hole that took place in your chest fifteen years ago wasn’t aching like day one once again.

The truth - the real one, this time - is that you never loved anyone but Raylan, because you never stopped to love him. Ever.

You stayed a few hours holed up in your hiding place before nature started calling. By two in the morning, it wasn’t a call anymore but a summoning. That was what got you out of your office; had you locked yourself up in your en-suite bedroom, the problem would never have occurred.

You cracked the door open as silently as you could; you were sure Raylan was still somewhere in the house, as he told you he would, but maybe you could run to the bathroom without him noticing. And you will have to face him one way or another, you couldn’t stay hidden forever anyway. But a few extra hours to put yourself together before it wouldn’t be unwelcome. With this beginning of a plan, you were ready to give it a try, but certainly not prepared for what you saw once the door truly open.

Raylan hadn’t left, neither the house, nor the hallway for he was fast asleep on the floor, back and head resting against the wall right next to the door. In a way, you shouldn’t even be surprised, it’s not unlike Raylan to be dramatic like that. But the Hell if your heart doesn’t miss a beat and then try to escape through your throat. And now that you’re looking at him, you can’t stop. The bastard has always been handsome, with this carved jaw and those hair - God, those hair - and those deep, sparkling eyes thankfully shut for now, but jeez... With the beard? The salt and pepper? He’s not a boy anymore, he’s a man now, a true one. He’s never been more attractive. And asleep? Soft and vulnerable like this, with his stupid hat resting next to him? God help you, it’s a fucking miracle that you’re still set on bypassing him altogether.

You take a few tentative steps in the hallway, careful to not bump into him, to be as quiet as possible. But it’s a lost cause.

«Little one?» His voice is rough with sleep, hushed, like you will vanished if he speaks louder. The grip he has on your calf is slack, you could easily shake him off and run away. You don’t. «I should quit calling you that, you’re all grown up now. Look at you.»

If you turn around, it’s over. If you look him in the eyes, there won’t be any going back.

«Are you going to kick me while I’m down here? You can, you know; as I said, I won’t try and stop you. But before you beat me to pulp, you should let me apologize. Not sure I still will be able to when you’ll be done with me.» He’s so calm, yet so sure you’re going to trounce him. He knows he deserves it. He’s resigned. He’s wrong.

«’M not gonna hit you.»

«Would you look at that? She does have a tongue, after all!»

Maybe you will - hit him - maybe it’s the only way to make him understand, this fucker. Before you can realise, you’re on the floor, straddling his never-ending legs, a hand up ready to strike him square in the face and the other holding him by the collar of his shirt. He’s wincing, waiting for the blow to fall, not even trying to avoid it, like he promised. But you can’t.

Stomach plummeting, sick by your own weakness, you start crying, hiding your face in your palms. He abandoned you without a glance back, didn’t even recognize you, he’s making fun out of you after charming you out of your safe place, and you can’t even slap him. Maybe you deserved all of this, maybe you did this all to yourself.

As you’re spiralling down, you feel two strong arms enveloping you, shielding you from the world as they’ve done countless times before, and you can also feel your body - this traitor - immediately relax in their hold, like it never forgot you’ve never been safer than between them.

«Shit, baby... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... It wasn’t meant to be nasty, I wanted... It was stupid, I’m a damn fool, but I think I’m not telling you anything new here.»

The more he talks and the more you’re sobbing, hunched on his lap.

«Shh, don’t cry little one, I’m here, you’re safe, everything is alright, ok? I wanted to make you laugh and I brilliantly  failed, that’s all. I’m so glad you finally went out of there! C’mon...»

You almost can’t breath, mainly because Raylan is hugging you to his chest - tight - but also because you can’t stop relief to flood you. He’s there, and it’s enough to make you feel better, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

«Will you look at me? So I can see those beautiful eyes of yours? Mmh? Can you even breath in there? It doesn’t look like. Hey, sweetie, I need you to take your hands out of your face, don’t want you to stifle.»

You can feel his hands lightly resting on both your wrists, at first, before they become heavier and heavier and manage to gently free your face. You open your eyes and, through your tears, everything you can see is him.

«Here she is, my pretty baby! Hello there.»

His smile is blinding, lighting his features up like the sun would the world. This is why Raylan Givens ever had and ever will have you wrapped around his finger, because you would do anything to be on the receiving side of his smile. It’s his best asset, more persuasive than any weapon. It makes him look soft. It kills you. He’s back, he’s holding you, he’s cooing sweet nonsense in your ear interspersed by kisses all over your face. This is everything you had ever wanted, everything. You could die now and claim to have lived your dreams. Later, you will hate yourself for this, gone is the tough, independent woman you ever claimed to be. You’re trembling in his arms and, without thinking at all, you kiss him. It’s barely a press of lips, at first, a brush; a ghost of a kiss. You feel more than you hear Raylan’s surprised gasp before he initiates another kiss, a little firmer this time - a caress on your mouth, delicate like the wings of a butterfly, but it sets you on fire. You part your lips, letting out a silent whimper, and he comes back for more with a little, electrifying lick that finds your tongue and sends shocks trough your entire body. He groans, and everything speeds up from there. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he hold your waist and pushes you against him with one hand and hold the back of your head with another. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to escape the all consuming, nasty kisses Raylan feeds you. Even when you’re forced to come up from air, he doesn’t let you go, his forehead pressed against yours.

«I am sorry,» he whispers, «I am sorry for letting you behind. I am sorry for making you sad. But I need you to know that, if I had a second chance, I would do it again.»

Your heart has stopped. You’re sure it has. You try to jerk away from Raylan, what you will do, you have no idea, but you can’t stay there, tangled with him on the floor, not when he’s ready to abandon you again. But his hold is strong and he’s not done with you.

«You need to understand...», his eyes are so gloomy and he sounds so distressed, you would think he’s the one who’s been left behind without a second glance, «I should have said something, I should have phoned, but, in the end, it was better for you, you... You deserve so much better than me.»

It snaps. Your sorrow, the endless despair you let yourself drown for so long, your fear, your distress, your regrets, the disappointed hopes, the anger directed at him - and at yourself - all these things you felt for the last fifteen years, they gather in ball in your sternum, just above your stomach, and turn into rage. You don’t slap him, no, but he’s still holding tight onto you, so instead of jerking away, you violently jerk towards him, the back of his head hits the wall.

«Aw!»

To his credit, he doesn’t try to push you away; but you’re too mad to pay attention to it.

«You cut the bullshit right there, Givens! You left this hell hole because your fucking father would have ended up killing you, you had to leave, you had no choice. But don’t tell me you left me behind for my own sake. Who are you to decide what I deserve or not? Who do you think you are to take that decision for me? If you didn’t want anything to do with my anymore, just say so. If you don’t want me right now, just say so. You’re many things, Raylan Givens, but you’ve never been a coward, so don’t start now!»

For a few heartbeats, the only thing to disturb the heavy, thick silence is your laborious breathing. Raylan is stunned, looking at you like a fish out of water. Then he’s on you, kissing the living daylights out of you.

«’M sorry, I’m sorry», he mumbles in-between kisses, «’M fucking moron, gonna make it up to you, do want you, fuck, I do, I’m so sorry...»

You’re still mad at him, you’re exhausted, your stomach is empty, you need to go to the loo now, your head is spinning and your knees are starting to ache by dint of supporting your weight off the floor, but you’re kissing Raylan back fervently. There will be time for more explanations - and probably more arguing - tomorrow. Right now, you don’t need anything more, not even to breath. Just Raylan.

The next morning, when the Marshal Gutterson comes to your house to take his shift over, he can’t hide his surprise at finding you on the couch, tucked under Raylan’s arm, asleep and smiling. When he left the evening before, his fellow deputy was begging through a door, after all...

«Ok,» he breaths, trying to be heard without waking you up, «how did you do that?»

«’M not gonna lie», Raylan answers with a grin, looking tired as all hell, but more at peace than ever, «I’m a lucky bastard and I don’t think I d-»

«If you say you don’t deserve it,» you mutter from your resting place in the crook of his neck, «I’ll change my mind and truly hit you, this time, Givens!»

THE END(?)

Thanks for reading ❤️

[gurneyhallecks]

justified!

my favorite female character: ava or rachel!

my favorite male character: raylan of course <3

my favorite book/season/etc: def season 4 !!

my favorite episode (if its a tv show): hatless my beloved

my favorite cast member: tim or walton !!

my favorite ship: besides me and raylan? raylanboyd probs, or raylan x rachel! and i kinda loved how messy raylan x ava was

a character I’d die defending: i mean.... raylan has done nothing wrong ever

a character I just can’t sympathize with: winona lol shut up girl

a character I grew to love: boyd!!

my anti otp: it's not so much "anti" as like i never understood givenson? i know im in a huge minority w/ this but it never stood out to me as a ship

[im-not-thinking-confetti-cannons]

Day 17: A/B/O

Warnings: none

Rating: E

Pairing: Raylan x Tim

Raylan is at the bar.

Raylan is at the same bar Tim is at, the one Tim drove to the fucking middle of nowhere to patronize. If Winona wasn't with him, Tim would put money on Raylan having followed him – and even with her presence, he's not certain that's not the case.

Tim's going to kill him, if that's the case.

The man at Tim’s side, a pretty, slim omega who shyly introduced himself as Ben half an hour ago, offers to buy Tim another beer. The closest he's gotten to touching Tim is knocking their elbows together, and Tim likes him, likes his demure attitude, his wide brown eyes, but at this rate they'll be in their fifties before Ben offers to take Tim home – or accepts Tim's offer of the same. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tim sees Winona get up from her table and hold her hand out expectantly – and a moment later, he watches as Raylan drops a pair of keys into her waiting palm. The light’s too dim to read her lips properly, but he might be able to make a few educated guesses on what she said based on the way she all but storms out of the building. She clearly wants Raylan to follow her.

Raylan doesn’t move from the table. 

Instead, he turns and looks over his shoulder, spots Tim watching him and raises his hand in a little wave, a gesture that’s more invitation than acknowledgement. Ben sees it, too, and makes an inquisitive little noise. “Friend of yours?” he asks.

Tim huffs a quiet breath of laughter, inaudible above the music and chatter. “Something like that,” he says. Then: “Sorry, I have to…”

He makes a vague gesture with the hand that’s holding the beer bottle, and then heads over to Raylan’s table. 

“You’re a long way from home,” Tim says, as he slides into the seat Winona vacated just a few moments before. “You really like Dave Alvin that much?”

“Do you?” Raylan counters, and Tim does his best to hide his smile behind his beer.

“Ain’t here for the music,” he says. He drains the rest of his beer – warm, now – and winces. “Can’t say I’m here for the beer, either.”

Raylan’s eyes flick over to the bar, and then back to Tim. “You’re here for the company?”

Instinct has a rebuttal halfway to Tim’s lips even before he thinks about it. Something sharp, something aggressive – something they’ll both laugh at before changing the subject. But Raylan’s looking at him with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, waiting, and Tim allows himself to reconsider. 

“Maybe,” he says slowly, and Raylan snorts his laughter.

“Looked like he was getting pretty friendly for just a ‘maybe.’”

“That was the fucking problem,” Tim mutters, and waves off Raylan’s questioning glance. “Not looking to wine and dine and work up to mutual handjobs on the couch in three weeks.”

Raylan raises an eyebrow. “Then what are you looking for?”

“Why, you afraid I’m not gonna find it in you?” Tim grins. “Or maybe you’re afraid that I will.”

Raylan shakes his head, taking a sip of his own beer. “If you think I’m afraid of getting laid, you’ve got me read all wrong,” he says. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Tim’s smile goes a little tight. “Look,” he says shortly. He can feel his shoulders starting to rise, defensiveness a habit that’s easy to fall into. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, but–”

“Expecting?” Raylan interrupts, and then he laughs, low and quiet. “Hell, I wasn’t expecting you to come over here at all.” He pauses, licking his lips, and Tim hates how his gaze is immediately drawn to Raylan’s mouth. “I know what I want, though. That’s a different story.”

Raylan’s voice goes dark and rough around want, and Tim feels himself harden in his pants – feels himself do a little more than that, too. He leans forward, showing his interest just as clearly as Raylan’s shown his. “Oh? Care to share with the rest of the class?”

It’s Raylan’s turn to stiffen, to duck his head, avoiding Tim’s gaze. Tim softens, just a little. He knows he probably shouldn’t be reassured by Raylan’s hesitance, but he knows that look. Knows it means Raylan is bracing for rejection – that whatever it is he wants is likely a little different than knotting in missionary.

Tim’s never really been good at the typical comforting gestures, regardless of the instinct that’s supposed to come part and parcel with being an omega. He doesn’t nest, doesn’t bare his neck willingly, doesn’t purr unless someone’s taking real good care of him. But he’s got decent control over his scent, enough to make it go sweet and mellow when he wants it to. He doesn’t, not often, because he likes the way gunpowder and irritation make most of the alphas around him wary, but it’s Raylan. Raylan’s different. Tim’s known that since the beginning. 

Raylan's eyelids droop a little when he scents Tim, and his smile goes a little dazed. "Neat trick," he says, and it's not even genuine praise but Tim still feels his face heat. 

"You were gonna tell me what you want," he says, proud of how steady his voice is. "Unless you changed your mind about something."

There's a pause, and then Raylan straightens, lifting his chin in a gesture that's familiar only because Tim has pulled it out so many times himself – a little challenging, a little defiant, a little ready to take a punch. “I want you to fuck me,” Raylan says.

Tim chokes on an inhale.

“Oh,” he says after a breathless moment. Then: “Well, shit, Raylan. What are we still doing here?”

“You’re the one with keys,” Raylan says, flashing a grin. “Figured I’d wait for you to ask instead of inviting myself over.”

“You chose the worst time to develop manners.” Tim slides to his feet, jerking his head towards the door. “Let’s go. That clear enough for you?”

Raylan laughs all the way out to the parking lot.

~~~~

Raylan isn’t demure.

It takes them ten minutes to get from the bar to Tim’s apartment, and it takes them approximately forty-five seconds to ditch their clothes and fall into bed, Raylan on his back and Tim cradled between his thighs. And it thrills Tim, a little, that Raylan goes so easily, that he lets Tim push him back and all but pin him to the mattress with his body.

But Raylan isn't passive, isn't shy. He drags Tim down to kiss and nip at his mouth, and makes a gorgeous little sound of approval when Tim ruts against him, the slide made easy by the copious amounts of precome Raylan is leaking.

Tim drags his fingers through it, just because he can, brushing his thumb over the head of Raylan’s cock. "You're so fucking wet," he murmurs, and Raylan jolts like he's been shocked, whining softly against Tim's mouth.

"Christ." His voice is wrecked, almost as gravelly as Tim's. "Tell me you've got lube stashed around here somewhere."

Tim hums idly, but he doesn't pull back to dig through the bedside drawer. He just shifts, keeping his mouth pressed against Raylan's as he sneaks one hand down between his own legs, shuddering a little when he finds himself obscenely slick.

He can smell Raylan, now, the fire and iron that belies his alpha nature, and the scent beneath it, the leather and whiskey and vanilla that's just Raylan. It makes Tim's mouth water, makes him want to bare his teeth and use them.

He's got better self-control than to bite Raylan's neck, so he settles for his pec, sucking a mark there while he finds Raylan's hole with one finger and circles the rim teasingly. Raylan whimpers at the bite, fists his hands in Tim's hair when he feels that first touch, and lets out a ragged, "Fuck," when, Tim assumes, he realizes what, exactly, Tim's slicked his fingers with.

"More," Raylan demands, grinding his hips down against Tim's hand as soon as Tim’s finger breaches him. "Thought you weren't about taking it slow."

Tim presses a second finger into him, just to see how his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip to muffle any more desperate little sounds. He makes a pretty picture like that, there's no doubt about it. God, Tim wants to ruin him.

He curls his fingers just as Raylan opens his mouth to complain again, earning himself a loud, broken little moan. Raylan bucks his hips up, grinding their cocks together and making Tim's thighs shake with how much he wants.

He glances down between them and his heart nearly stops when he sees Raylan's cock, hard and leaking, his knot half-swollen at the base. Maybe he makes a sound, or maybe it's the way his hand jerks, fucking his fingers into Raylan sharply – either way, Raylan spreads his legs a little wider and lets out a shaky little keen. "I swear to god," he begins, and Tim figures two fingers is probably enough. 

Tim’s dripping by the time he slicks himself, and the touch of his own hand is enough to make him clench his teeth against the surge of pleasure. Still, he’s careful as he guides his cock to where Raylan is wet and stretched, pressing into him slowly despite the impatience he knows they’re both feeling. And he’s grateful, because Raylan is tight. He clenches down as soon as the head of Tim’s cock breaches him, making them both choke on their moans, and his scent spikes with something spicy and heated, something desperate and wanting. 

“Fuck,” Raylan breathes, when Tim bottoms out. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide. “You’re not small.”

Tim grins wolfishly, grinds down into Raylan just to make him gasp and jerk. “Too much?” he asks teasingly, but Raylan doesn’t whine or groan or even snap at him. He just flashes a grin right back, and then he tenses in a way that shoots right up Tim’s spine. He takes advantage of Tim’s momentary distraction, flipping them over with a motion that’s too neat to not be practiced. Tim falls back against the bed with a huff, and Raylan settles on top of him, looking smug. 

“You take too long,” he breathes, and then he moves.

Tim’s hands grab at Raylan’s thighs, seemingly of their own accord, while Raylan rolls his hips, drawing up and then sinking back down onto Tim’s cock. There’s no hesitance, no uncertainty in how he moves; he knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. And fuck, but he’s beautiful like that, his eyes half-closed, his knot swollen, his chest heaving as he fucks himself on Tim’s cock like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

Tim manages to get his hands to work and wraps his fingers around Raylan’s knot, squeezing hard enough to make Raylan’s rhythm stutter. But Raylan doesn’t slow, like Tim expects him to. He just curses under his breath and all but snaps his hips down, fucking himself that much harder on Tim’s cock. He’s chasing his own pleasure, and Tim might have a problem with it if Raylan’s selfishness didn’t feel so fucking good.

“That’s it,” Tim encourages breathlessly. “Fuck, Raylan, just like that.”

He squeezes Raylan’s knot again, and this time Raylan loses his rhythm altogether, whines as he’s torn between pushing up into Tim’s hand or grinding back against his cock. Tim solves the problem for him, braces his feet against the mattress and thrusts up, fucking into Raylan’s tight heat with enough force to knock a keening little sigh from his lips. Raylan’s hands scrabble at his chest, nails scratching, and Tim feels it even before Raylan grits out an, “Oh fuck,” feels him tense, feels his knot pulse and swell just moments before Raylan groans and comes hard, striping Tim’s chest with his release.

Tim bucks his hips up once, twice, and then follows Raylan over the edge, coming with the alpha’s name on his tongue.

It takes them both a minute to orient themselves again, for the stars to clear from the edges of Tim’s vision enough that he can look up at Raylan without feeling dizzy. The alpha looks just as dazed as Tim feels, his lips parted around every panting inhale, his cock still pulsing in Tim’s grip. 

“Jesus,” Tim manages, and Raylan huffs a breath of laughter.

“Just ‘Raylan’ is fine.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but his equally sarcastic response is cut off when Raylan shudders, adding to the mess on Tim’s stomach as he tightens around Tim’s softening cock, making his teeth clench. Raylan laughs again, but it’s a little more strained, edged with overstimulation. Clumsily, he bats Tim’s hand away from his knot, and then both of them groan as Raylan carefully slides off, all but flopping down on the bed next to Tim.

"So," Raylan says after a minute, turning his head so Tim can see the way his grin is lopsided and his eyes still dark. "Did that live up to your standards?"

Tim shrugs, though he can't do anything about the way he's smiling, too. "Can't say," he says. "Never fucked an alpha before."

Raylan blinks, his lips slowly parting in surprise, and then suddenly he's rolling over and straddling Tim again, kissing him, hard and sloppy and demanding. Tim feels himself start to slick again, feels his cock twitch against his thigh, and he's starting to entertain the idea of another round when Raylan pulls back, his cheeks pink and his eyes wild.

"I've got bad beer and Dave Alvin on a record at home," Raylan says. "Next time, skip the bar and come over."

Tim grins lazily. "You gonna show me a good time?"

"I think I can show you a little more than that."

find this fic on AO3 here:

[acorrespondence]

Thanks @willowmckinley for tagging me! I already did one but three ships tied for first and one didn’t get any votes, so I’ll tag my honorable mentions in for that one!

Tagging some people that the last post dropped: @hosseinis @lbctal @billhaders @freekicks @rubdown and I think that’s all it’ll let me do. If anyone else sees this and wants to participate consider yourself tagged!

choose a ship (justified tooks edition)

starting a new post for this one. i was tagged by @maraskywalkers @faronnorth @queercodedcowboy ty justies 🖤

rules: make a poll of your favorite ships, and let your friends and followers vote for their favorite!

tagging @niuserre @sublightsleeper @willowmckinley @magically-with-magic @dowhatyoudream @dichromaniac

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Justified

Sample Size: 1,258 stories

Source: AO3

[theartthatleavesthemark]

How much of Raylan’s angst about seeing Boyd again in S1 do we think he redirected into angst about Winona?

[pretendfan]

Oh, I’m a season into Justified and now I want to write me some Given’s fics so this is just a warning🤣🤣I’m practicing writing him with my usual recipe of nonsense right now by reimagining a scene with Raylan and Winona🫠🙃

(UGH LOOK AT HIM)

[msindrad]

I saw somebody talk about their favorite Justified videos about a week ago, I think. And here is one of mine absolute favorites. I’ll just copy my comment from YouTube to not repeat myself: (...) I'm positively shocked that there is a tribute to Raylan that isn't just depicting him as that "cool dude" in the words of Timothy Olyphant. Because, common! If that cowboy marshal persona was all that there was to Raylan, we wouldn't get a show half as fantastic as Justified is. Raylan is a cool cowboy marshal, but the show is primarily about the reasons he became one, and what it does to him, what choices he makes (forces himself to make) because of that and how these choices sometimes alienate him from everybody else and even from himself. It's not an easy job to do, and it demands even more sacrifices when you make yourself do it in the way nobody else will because nobody else can. Only Raylan.  

Then, you’ve got “all the voices”, right. Because the story of Raylan isn’t told only from his perspective, yeah. You even used DOYLE’s monologue! I don’t like Winona and Raylan’s relationship, but you captured it amazingly in just a few seconds – why they can’t be together no matter how much they want to make it work between them; and they try, they want, they do. Also, the moment with Helen’s voiceover is gorgeous, mesmerizing, epic, wow. WOW! How she knows Raylan sooo well, and how she is right about him but also wrong, how stubborn Raylan is but also he has no other choice – or thinks so. 

(...) Your choices for Raylan’s narrative are also beautiful, not too obvious, very fitting. And I’m semi-embarrassed to admit that I’ve almost screamed when I saw how you introduced Boyd after Art’s voiceover and your choice of the following frame. And then, the video goes on! Yes, Raylan got Boyd Crowder, but the story is not about it, the show isn’t your typical Western ballad about somebody who shot Liberty Valence (although I love the genre dearly) but about all the different things in-between their first reunion and their last (on-screen) one. 

(...) And the music isn’t something I personally would listen to, but it fits Raylan’s introverted temperament so, so well, damn. And I love how in the end, yes, we’ve got all these voices, Art, Allison, Arlo, Doyle, Dickie, and they show that there are many views on Raylan’s personality, but most importantly, as your video states and shows, like it or not, he is the guy who does his job.

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

finding his way back. ( raylan givens x reader )

gif belongs to me

The day you met Raylan Givens you knew he'd break your heart. You weren't sure how he would do it, or if he would mean to, but it was inevitable. And for a solid month you were the one he came to at the end of a difficult day which was every day since he returned to Kentucky. You had lost track of the times he turned up at your door and you poured him a drink and the night ended with you both in your bed.

Raylan Givens was a hard man to understand at times. When he wasn't testing your limits, he told you stories, confided in you and you believed you were beginning to get to know the man you had grown to care about. You always knew Raylan Givens would break your heart. You just didn't know when.

"You and Winona." You nodded slowly as you cut carrots.

Raylan lingered in the doorway and you felt his intense gaze as he tried to gauge your reaction. "We talked and she wants to try again."

"I don't know why you felt the need to come all the way over here." You kept your back to him so he couldn't see the tears pricking your eyes. You forced laughter as you added, "It's not as if this actually meant anything."

"Y/N..."

"Honestly Raylan, there was no need for you to come over. A simple text would've sufficed."

Raylan knew there was no chance of reaching you at that moment. And although you hadn't noticed your knife hitting the chopping board with more force, he had and he wasn't looking forward to being driven out your house at knifepoint.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, hearing his footsteps as he left the house. When the door closed, you cut the carrot, the knife slicing your finger on the way down. You cursed as you stepped back, tossing the knife down as more curses left your lips. You blinked away the tears, walking to the sink to hold your finger under cold water.

You knew Raylan Givens would break your heart. You just believed that the knowledge he would do so would make it hurt less. It didn't.

It was inevitable that you would run into him. It was a small place and while you had managed to avoid him for a week, you hadn't predicted someone walking into your work and killing your coworker.

Raylan approached where you were sitting in an ambulance, being treated by a paramedic who removed glass from your cheek that was smashed during the gun fight. "Jesus. Are you alright?"

"Fine." You replied shortly. You thanked the paramedic who handed you an ice pack for the bruise on your head from where the killer had knocked you out.

"Yeah, you look it." He responded sarcastically.

"Always do." You smiled tightly, wincing from the cuts on your cheek.

Raylan couldn't hold back a smirk. "I can't argue with that."

You rolled your eyes although you appeared less hostile then, almost amused as you stood up.

Raylan looked at the paramedic, "How is she?"

"I want you to come to the hospital. Those might need stitches." The paramedic directed towards you.

"Oh no, no hospitals." You shook your head.

"You may have a concussion."

"So?"

"If you fall asleep you could -"

"I'll take the risk." You walked away and Raylan followed, sending you a disapproving glance.

"You should go to the hospital."

"And you should mind your own business."

"Damn it, Y/N!" He grabbed your arm and turned you around. "Let me take you to the hospital."

"First off," You tore your arm from his grip, "don't touch me. And second, don't act like you give a shit. Third, leave me alone."

You headed to your car, and Raylan sighed, resting his hands on his hips as he reluctantly watched you drive off. He deserved your coldness. He knew he did. Hell, if he was in your shoes, he probably would've thrown a punch. But you weren't the explosive type, though you were pretty feisty at times - one of the reasons he liked you.

That night at seven o'clock you heard a knock on your door and you knew it was him. Raylan lifted his gaze from the ground, almost surprised you had opened the door. You didn't speak as you walked back inside, leaving the door open for him to walk through. He closed it behind him as he followed you down the hall to the living room. You sat on the sofa as you picked up the glass from the coffee table, finishing your drink.

"What are you doing here, Raylan?" You asked, setting the glass down, picking up the bottle and pouring yourself another.

"Well, you were involved in a shootout less than four hours ago. I thought I should check up on you." He replied.

"You felt obligated you mean. Just what a woman wants to hear." You pointed to the kitchen before he could speak, as his expression said it all. You knew that wasn't what he meant, but at that moment you didn't care if your words stung. You wanted him to hurt, just as you did. "Get yourself a glass, unless you plan on standing there all night."

Raylan walked to the kitchen and you downed your drink, filling your glass as he returned. He took a seat beside you and you filled his glass. "How's the head?"

"Stings like a bitch." You replied. "It hurts when I have to think so try not to be your complicated self and just be straight with me."

"You should have gone to the hospital." He told you, taking a drink at the same time you did.

"I can't afford that. I can barely afford to keep this place." You glanced around what had been your childhood and your parent's house that had been passed on to you when they died.

"You thinkin' of leavin'?" He asked.

You shrugged. "Not like there's anything here for me, is there?" You finished your drink and Raylan stared at you for a moment before mimicking your actions.

"You really believe that?" He began. "That there's nothing left?"

"If you're asking what I think you're asking, which I assume you are, then I'd tell you that you made your choice." You turned to look at him, "Have the guts to stick with it and keep it in your pants, Deputy Marshall Givens." You turned to the coffee table, reaching for the bottle when he turned your chin, and your eyes drifted to his lips that grew closer as he leaned in.

"Are you serious? About leavin' I mean." He asked quietly.

"I haven't decided yet." You whispered.

"I don't want you to go." He murmured.

You wet your lips, "I don't know what brought this on, but I have no intentions of being your side chick. Or any chick for that matter." You pulled away and the moment ended. You pretended not to notice the way his eyes drifted to the coffee table as if he was conflicted by his actions, almost surprised, and when he stood up, telling you to take it easy, you merely nodded as you poured yourself another drink.

Raylan left after that and when you heard the door closed you sighed as you leaned back on the sofa, holding the glass on your chest as you stared at the wall across from you. You really hated Raylan Givens. But what you hated more was how your body still reacted to him.

You hadn't expected to see him for a while. Let alone the next night, sitting on your doorstep waiting for you to return home. You got out of your car, sighing when you saw him stand up, locking your car. You kept your distance, standing a few feet away as you crossed your arms.

"Have you ever heard the saying, shoot those who have stuck their dick in too many pies?"

"Can't say that I have. But I'll be sure to remember it." He replied.

"What do you want, Raylan?"

"I was hopin' for a drink." He replied, glancing away for a few seconds before sending you the slightest smile.

You could see in his eyes that he was troubled and while you knew it would be better to turn him away, you couldn't bring yourself to. "You get one then you're gone. You ain't drainin' my liquor no more now that we ain't sleeping together." You walked onto the porch and unlocked the door, turning to him flashing a smile. "I don't feel obligated to share it with you."

Raylan took his hat off, exhaling as he walked inside while you held the door open. "Fair enough."

You followed him into the hallway, closing the door and leading the way to the living room.

"Was that all you think it was?" He asked.

You entered the kitchen and he lingered in the doorway as you took out two beers from the fridge. "Wasn't it?" You held up a beer and he shook his head. "Suit yourself." You placed one of the beers back in the fridge and popped the cap using the countertop. You leaned your back against the counter as you took a long sip. "Or do you think you could have tipped your hat at a woman in a bar and gone home early?"

"I could've but I didn't." He said with the faintest smile. "I spent two weeks flirting with you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I too uptight for you, is that it?"

"No!" He shot down, realizing the conversation was quickly going south. He pointed at you, "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" You raised an eyebrow, lifting the beer to your lips but before you took a drink, you added, "Why are you here anyway? Is the ex-wife not doing it for you anymore? Well, take your dick and your pretty eyes elsewhere, okay?"

A smirk formed on his lips, "You think my eyes are pretty?"

You rolled your eyes, "Of course that's what you hear."

"How many of those have you had?" He asked, his expression becoming serious as he stepped towards you.

"Including the five I had before I came here, this makes five and a half." You held up the bottle, squinting as you peered at the beer inside before looking at him, noticing how close he was. "Why?"

"Just wanted to know if you were sober." He took the beer bottle, and you glared at him when he emptied it down the drain.

"Raylan!"

He turned to you, catching your hand before you could smack his arm, lifting you onto his shoulder. You used your free hand to hit his back as he carried you upstairs.

"What are you doing?" You asked, and he was able to tell you were smiling from your voice.

"I want you to be sober when we talk." He explained.

The door to your bedroom was ajar and he kicked it open further, carrying you to the bed. He placed you down and you stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "Now, now, Marshall, you are in a committed relationship. I don't think Whitney would appreciate you taking me to bed like this."

"Winona." He corrected, taking off your heels. "And she knows I'm here. Or at least, figured it out."

You shuffled over, making space. You rested your head on your hand, leaning on your elbow as you met his gaze, patting the bed beside you. "You wanna talk about it? Or want a distraction?"

Raylan took off his hat and hung it on the poster of your bed. "I just came to talk. That doesn't mean I want to talk about her."

"Ooh," You giggled. "Trouble in paradise?" You tried your best to appear serious, though there was a smirk on your lips. "What happened? Did you leave her for someone else too?"

Raylan glanced at the floor briefly, and when he met your gaze you had your answer.

"Wow. You really are a piece of work." You laid down on your back, looking up at the ceiling. "Have you slept with this woman? Or has she not had the pleasure yet?"

Raylan sat down on the bed, "We have. Or we did. More than a few times actually."

You hummed, "You're an idiot."

"No, you are." He replied seconds later.

"Wha-" You sat up, turning to him. "How?"

"Because I was talking about you." He said with a small smile. "This is why I was gonna wait until morning. When you had a clear head, and -"

"My head is clear. I can drink bikers under the table you know that." You reminded him. "Although I do need some clarification, not because of the beers or anything, what is it you're trying to tell me?"

"When Winona and I got back together, something was different. It felt different. So I told Winona that it wasn't workin' out. And she asked if there was someone else I didn't deny it. I told her the truth. About me and you. And I told her I couldn't do it anymore. Then I came straight here."

"How long were you waitin'?" You asked, a smile forming on your lips as you moved closer.

"About two hours." He admitted.

"Good." Your smile grew as you lowered your gaze to his lips, before meeting his gaze as you leaned in, placing your hands on his shoulders. You moved your arms around his neck and he held your gaze as he lifted a hand to your cheek. "If you hurt me again, I'll shoot ya."

"Oh, really?" He challenged, his eyes focused on your lips, a small smirk forming on his as he inched closer.

You hummed in response moments before Raylan closed the distance between you, placing a hand on the nape of your neck, another on your back as he kissed you hotly.

And that night was the night when Raylan Givens swore that he would never give you the opportunity or a reason to make good on your threat. No matter what happened he always knew he would find his way here, back to you.

[beebobeebo]

Title: Shit, Kid.

Fandom: Justified

Characters: Raylan Givens, wee Willa Givens , & Tim Gutterson

Relationship: Tim Gutterson x Raylan Givens (Givenson)

Summary: The world is so dire I wrote kid fic.

This is either my brain rebelling against writing blowjobs or having rewatched The Mandalorian.

Also, the swear jar bit is stolen from my stepdad. He still owes me thirty-four goddamn dollars.

Notes: Hippos causes an estimated 500 deaths annually. It'll come up.

"Seriously?" Tim is looking at the little blonde muppet version of Raylan sitting at the kitchen table.

"You gonna tell Dan that I can't find a sitter when you're right here?" Raylan is aggressively tugging on his jacket. "Winona and Richard are sick." Raylan is a whirl of hand motions. "Just gotta turn on cartoons and order dinner. I'll be back before either of you miss me."

Raylan grabs his hat and presses a kiss to his daughter's hair. "Hey, kiddo, Tim's gonna watch you for a little bit."

"Why Tim?" Willa asks with an impressive level of peevishness, which is what you have to call it when a kid is being a dick. She's all of six, but she'd out-Givens Arlo on one of her bad days. Shit, she rests at Raylan-levels while idly playing with her Legos.

"I'm here because, legally, you can't be left alone," Tim answers honestly as he sits down on Raylan's couch.

"Thanks, Tim. Makin' me feel good about this," Raylan says dryly. "Be good, kiddo. Tim's just here to keep the house from burnin' down and feed you dinner."

Raylan plants another kiss on the top of Willa's head. "Be good."

"You already said that," Tim and Willa say in unison. Raylan pinches the bridge of his nose and squints hard at one then the other.

"Bye, Daddy," Willa says without looking up from where she's coloring aggressively.

"Bring back beer," Tim says as he leans forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

"And ice cream," Willa says still looking at her drawing.

Raylan shakes his head as he walks out the door shouting, "Love you!"

Willa and Tim grumble vague responses at the same time. The pair look at each other and stare for a long moment. Tim's afraid this is a wolf situation. If he breaks first, she'll establish dominance. She holds up her drawing between them. Tim is choosing to generously interpret it as a snake.

"You gonna tell me what that is?"

Willa snorts. "It's you, Tim."

"I'm a snake. I know you're only in the first grade, but that's a weak metaphor, Willa-Wisp"

"No. The snake ate you," Willa explains. "It's digesting you. Their whole body is full of their digestive system."

"Charming," Tim leans back in the couch cushions and clicks on the TV. "Tell me when you get hungry."

Tim idly clicks through the channels trying to ignore the unnerving shuffling sound from behind him. When something grabs his ankle he yells, "Fuck!"

"You owe me a quarter for my swear jar," Willa says from beneath the couch.

"You're running a racket. That stops bein' cute and starts bein' a crime at a certain point." He lifts his ass far enough off the couch to pull out his wallet. "Put it on my damn tab," he says as he holds a ten-dollar bill down by his feet. It's quickly snatched away.

Willa appears at his elbow with the unnerving speed of a child. This is why you don't fuck with horror movie kids. You punt the possessed bastards and run.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Daddy likes you. Sometimes he talks about you when you're not here," she says with a flippant hand wave that's Raylan made over.

"He does the same thing with you. He's very proud of you. You know that, right?" Tim asks. He wouldn't call Raylan perfect, but he was a damn sight better than either of them had known. Raylan loved the shit out of this tiny funhouse mirror of himself.

"He's my daddy," she says matter-of-factly. "Everyone's daddy is proud of them."

"Yeah, sure," Tim says, cycling through channels. Who still has cable?

"Daddy's proud of you," Willa says as she invites herself into Tim's personal space.

Do not engage, Gutterson.

"Yeah?"

Damn it.

"He says you make bad things go away before they even get close," Willa explains as she situates herself in Tim's lap. "Like real far away."

Oh for fuck's sake Raylan.

"I guess I do," Tim admits. "I had to go to special school for it."

"Do you love Daddy?" Willa asks staring directly into his soul. God. Maybe she was possessed.

"Yeah. I even like him most of the time," Tim admits dragging his hand down his face. "Guessin' you still do, too?"

Willa is giving him the look. He knows that look. It's usually angled down at him, though. Goddamn, did this kid only get Winona's hair?

"Of course you do, he's your daddy." Tim smooths her hair. God, who the fuck was he right now?

"Richard loves me, too," She says as her face becomes eyebrows and her little jaw twitches.

"Listen, Wisp, you're only six, but you're comin' off real desperate here. You're tryin' to force me to say somethin'." Tim sighs as he leans back in the cushions and adjusts the kid so they're both comfortable. "Never force anyone to say that. Alright?"

She eyes him. He stares right back. Wolf rules. She blinks.

"Okay. But you are my friend," she says with a nod. "Can we have mac n' cheese for dinner?"

"Hell yeah, we can," he says as he snatches the remote back up. "We can also watch something with robots. No animal shows. You're learnin' some messed up shit from those."

"Like how hippos kill a lot of people?"

"Damn it, Willa. Would you just watch Voltron?"

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

Raylan comes home to a house that smells like neon powdered cheese, has a trail of purple glitter in the carpet, and some weird shit with lion robots playing on the TV.

"Tim?"

"Shut up, man," Tim's voice hisses from the hallway Raylan tosses his hat and jacket on the couch as he heads toward the voice.

"Guessin' she's asleep?" Raylan passes Tim to look into Willa's room. He smiles softly and looks back at Tim. "See. You managed."

"Had to get all the way to Rivendell in The Hobbit before she nodded off," Tim says with a small smile.

Raylan heads down the hallway to his room. Tim follows after a final peek to make sure Willa's not drooling on the book tucked into bed with her.

"Hey." Tim grabs Raylan from behind by the hips and pulls him against his chest. "You didn't bring back beer or ice cream."

Raylan lets his head fall back against Tim's.

"You had fun," he accuses with a smile.

"Fuck you," Tim says into Raylan's hair.

"You didn't hear about the new swear jar?" Raylan turns to face Tim.

"Don't worry. I've got a three-dollar credit."

[eddievedders]

001, Justified, Star Wars(all of it, or whatever film or sequence of films you want to focus on, or if you want to do Rogue One or any other SW media, whatever, it’s your choice), The Boys - though I’ve still only seen the first three episodes of it.

Thanks for always sending me these, Belinda. I really appreciate you! <3

Justified

Favorite character: Raylan Givens (and Rachel Brooks).

Least Favorite character: Arlo Givens 1000%.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Raylan x Winona, Raylan x Boyd, Boyd x Ava, Dickie x Dewey, Wynn x Mikey.

Character I find most attractive: Everyone so damn pretty, BUT Raylan/Tim Olyphant convinced an all-powerful judge to save humanity by just existing and who am I to argue with that?

Character I would marry: None? They all seem pretty bad at it. :’)

Character I would be best friends with: Probably Tim Gutterson tbh.

A random thought: They should be allowed to say ‘fuck’ on that show.

An unpopular opinion: I have opinions but I don’t know if they’re unpopular. 

My Canon OTP: Winona Hawkins and Raylan Givens.

My Non-canon OTP: Boyd Crowder and Raylan Givens.

Most Badass Character: Oh. Raylan, Boyd and Ava.

Most Epic Villain: Ugh... maybe Mags? I loved her so much.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Tim x Raylan. Tim deserves better I mean.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Not a single one, really.

Favourite Friendship: Gonna go with Dickie x Dewey on this one just to mix it up a little.

Character I most identify with: Sadly, Raylan.

Character I wish I could be: Sadly, Raylan.

Star Wars (gonna go with original trilogy)

Favorite character: Han Solo.

Least Favorite character: Jabba the Hut.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): I have one, which is Han and Leia.

Character I find most attractive: Han Solo, I mean.

Character I would marry: Hmmm... guess? LOL.

Character I would be best friends with: Leia Organa.

A random thought: Ewoks are NOT stupid ok? 

An unpopular opinion: Vader’s redemption is not that great.

My Canon OTP: Han x Leia.

My Non-canon OTP: Han x Luke.

Most Badass Character: Vader.

Most Epic Villain: Vader.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Goes without saying that Luke x Leia is not okay right?

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Eh... Vader, a little.

Favourite Friendship: The main trio.

Character I most identify with: Luke Skywalker.

Character I wish I could be: Leia Organa.

The Boys (I hope you continue watching! It’s amazing)

Favorite character: Frenchie (and Kimiko, and Mother’s Milk).

Least Favorite character: The Deep.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Frenchie x Kimiko, Annie x Hughie, Butcher x Becca, Butcher x a shower, Hughie x a moment of peace and quiet.

Character I find most attractive: My tiny French boy.

Character I would marry: My tiny French boy.

Character I would be best friends with: All of the Spice Girls, I think.

A random thought: They should’ve kept Becca around a little longer.

An unpopular opinion: Can’t think of any.

My Canon OTP: Hughie x Annie.

My Non-canon OTP: Frenchie x Kimiko (YET).

Most Badass Character: Queen Maeve, Kimiko.

Most Epic Villain: HOMELANDER!

Pairing I am not a fan of: Homelander x Stormfont lol.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): None.

Favourite Friendship: Frenchie x everyone because he’s PRECIOUS.

Character I most identify with: Hughie probably.

Character I wish I could be: Honestly? Noir. :’)

[goodlawman]

Continued from [x] @brooklynislandgirl

A few hours ago he dropped a finished report on Art’s desk and grabbed his keys, actually looking forward to the long drive down to Harlan and the house that used to be a personal hell. In the last few months it went from mausoleum to a halfway decent dwelling that could raise a family maybe if the occupants were so inclined. For now it was sanctuary for two human beings and a possum that he may or may not have been acquiring an affection for.  Between the two of them and cans of paint, refreshed wood, hard work and care slowly took back the house inch by inch. 

“I stopped in town to pick up a few things before I came here and they got a farmer’s market goin’ on tomorrow and Sunday so I didn’t pick any of the fresh stuff up. I figure we could go early tomorrow and pick up what we need,” Raylan called, not skipping a beat as he set down the bags on the counter and dumped his duffle in one of the chairs at the table. Silence continued to greet him and concern settled in. Not that it was all that unusual, wouldn’t be the first time she was listening to music, maybe taking a nap. A million little reasons why she wasn’t responding back to him, most of which she just didn’t hear him. 

Raylan hopped up the steps two at a time, peering into rooms as he passed until he got to the master bedroom. The relief at finding her was brief, the easy grin just for her slowly falling as his gaze travelled past her to the suitcase on the bed, the little details that transformed the room into something wholly her disappearing to let the bleakness of the past start to creep back in. The possibility of the weekend ebbed away and he took a step back into the doorway as if he’d been punched in the chest and the air forced from his lungs. 

Questions stuck in his throat, head tilting, brow furrowing. Thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders rising slightly as tension took hold. God help him, he tried to focus on what she was saying, hearing every word but reasons began to slip between those in the past. Alison, Lindsey, Winona not once but twice, the second time in a letter left on the counter. She loved him, she told him as much, but her suitcase was still on the bed and she was still fighting to close it. 

He just wanted her to turn around and look at him, tell him straight what was underneath those pretty lies of hers. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.” The words started out hoarse once Raylan finally found his voice again but grew in strength as the anger surfaced, taking comfort in the familiarity of that heat just beneath the surface.  “Do not tell me you love me and then...and then make it sound like...” 

Start and stop, start and stop, desperately casting around in an extensive vocabulary for one goddamn word to connect his thoughts together but worry and fear and anger caused skips that broke those attempts. Instead he chose actions, pressing his palms on the doorframe, sliding his feet out to where the floor met the frame. He couldn’t really stop her from leaving but the movement was largely symbolic. Raylan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. 

“If this is what you really want, then I can’t stop you. I’m not moving aside until you look me in the goddamn eye and tell me the truth. Not this...not this bullshit because that’s just window dressin’ for whatever you’re hiding underneath. Give me a chance to fix what I did to hurt you, to change what isn’t working.”

[nastasyafilippovnas]

Justified for the ask :)

Thanks for asking!

Justified

the first character i ever fell in love with: Raylan. How can you not?! It was love at first sight.

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: my love hasn't changed, lol.

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: kinda weird since the show has ended so long ago, but again, i haven't changed what I like.

my ultimate favorite character™: AVA CROWDER, LOVE OF MY LIFE, QUEEN OF HARLAN. I'd die for her.

prettiest character: Ava <3

my most hated character: hmm... probably Quarles, just for being disgusting.

my OTP: Raylan x Ava x Boyd. OT3 for life.

my NOTP: Raylan x Winona. It doesn't work. How many times do they have to keep trying.

favorite episode: 6.07 The Hunt. It hurts so much, but Joelle and Walton are SO AMAZING on it. The acting is fantastic.

saddest death: Helen's. My favorite aunt.

favorite season: one. perfection itself.

least favorite season: i almost stopped watching the show during the fifth season, it actually took my friend enticing me with the perspective of Raylan x Ava for me to come back, so yeah, that. Though I've really come to appreciate for how it lays the ground for season 6.

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: hate is a strong word, because i actually like him, but i will never understand the fandom's fixation with Tim.

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Raylan is the ultimate piece of trash, sorry not sorry.

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Loretta, my baby girl. Let her have everything.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Boyd x Ava? Raylan x Boyd? lol.

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Tim x Rachel, I really wanted it to go somewhere, lol.

send me a fandom