#spencer dutton

[pedro-reed]

Brandon Sklenar as Spencer Dutton | 1923 2x04

[beardburnsupersoldiers]

I would 12/10 recommend this to any and all Spencer girlies!!!

Spencer Dutton Masterlist

Of Dead Men & Broken Dreams - Spencer makes a relisation while stationed on the front.

Ink Stained - Spencer finally reads your letters after a near death experiance.

You Die, I Die - You and Spencer made a promise all those years ago.

This Side of Montana (NSFW) - Spencer asks you an important question.

[dirbenaffleck]

BRANDON SKLENAR 1923 ‧ Created by Taylor Sheridan

[jetblack4realz]

his little girl - yellowstone boys

how the yellowstone (+ 1923) boys react to you having their daughter

i think i might make this a series if y'all are interested. i think it'd be cute! i'll do kayce (obvs), rip (ofc), ryan (what a man), lee (we didn't get enough of him), jimmy (i haven't seen a single thing on here for him, not that there isn't but still), and spencer (he's iconic)!!

lmk if you want anything in particular for any or all of these guys! i think it could be fun :)

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kayce dutton:

when you first got pregnant, you were so certain it was going to be a little boy, and that's what you told kayce. he smiled over at you, hand on your stomach as he shook his head.

"and why's that, baby?" he wondered.

"he's been kicking like a boy, and i've got the skin to show it's a boy. i've always imagined that i'd be a boy mom," you answered with a shrug, leaning into his embrace comfortably. "and we've already got tate. i think it'll be another boy."

and he'd been alright with that. he let you have your dreams of what to name him and how you'd have him and tate match in little cowboy outfits. you even omitted the gender reveal in favor of it being a surprise, but also because you were so certain it was a boy.

but, when that little girl came out, you both were in instant happy tears.

kayce held her first due to some complications during birth, and he suddenly remembered the joy that came with being a father. as he stared down at his baby girl with eyes that matched his, he was flooded with a certain protectiveness that didn't come with tate. this was his little girl - nobody was going to mess with her.

to say she was spoiled by her daddy was an understatement. there wasn't a day that he didn't come home with a new handful of wildflowers, one for each of his girls, and sit on the floor having her explain all her little drawings to him. when tate would mess with her, teasing as a good older brother would, kayce would give him a stern shake of his head, holding her close to his chest as she sniffled.

"she ain't a boy, bud," he told him. "i know she's your sister and you wanna tease her, but you gotta treat her like a lady."

"i just wanna make her laugh," tate defended.

"find another way, okay pal? there's a million ways to make her laugh and only a few to make her cry. let's figure that out, alright?" he said, pulling the boy into his side for a hug. tate looked at his sister, thinking for a moment before making a funny face, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes as he pulled his mouth at a funny angle. she burst into a fit of giggles, kayce high-fiving him as she clambered out of his lap to go play with her older brother.

you had to be the one to teach her to rope and ride, ensuring she had the true makings of a cowgirl because kayce did not want that life for her. he hoped that she wouldn't ever end up with a cowboy. but, once she knew how to ride well enough, he'd take her on long rides with him and tate, explaining the beauties of montana to them both.

he first bought her a dress from a little boutique in town and a matching bow to go with it when she was five, beyond excited to dress her in it and take her out on a daddy daughter date. you took tate on a mommy son date that same night, smiling as you saw your husband and daughter eating ice cream through the store window as tate dragged you to the theater down the street.

kayce stayed protective, but supportive of what she wanted - except for when she started getting cutesy around the newest ranch hand rip had let stick around, a kid called carter. kayce nipped that one in the bud real fast.

he thrived as a father, it was his true calling, with both tate and your little girl. having both felt like his life had equalled out and he ensured they had a close bond as well. kayce isn't a girl dad or a boy dad, he's just a dad, and he loves it.

rip wheeler:

rip would never admit it, but whenever he imagined finding a girl, settling down, and starting a family, it was always filled with daughters. it was easy to assume that he'd want all boys - he was one of the most manly men montana had ever seen. but, with that, he felt a need to have girls to protect, to be strong for.

so when that first baby ended up a girl, he was silently ecstatic.

"baby, it's a girl," he mumbled to you, his smile the widest you'd seen it since your wedding day.

he was so supportive during labor, petting your hair out of your face as you squeezed his hand tightly. when your little girl finally started crying, he took her straight from the doctor and set her on your chest, one hand on your arm and the other on the baby's back.

he watched over the both of y'all carefully. it was obvious to everyone that you were his number one priorities, and if anyone so much as mentioned your names with the wrong tone he was ready to fight.

rip started taking her out on rides as soon as she was able to be strapped to his chest and sit on a horse without crying, which was actually awfully early. you told him it was only because she was his daughter that he was able to do this, but they both loved it. she was an expert rider by the time she was eight years old, and a good roper too.

you had two twin girls after her, both absolutely adored by rip and their older sister. you were able to go on family rides at that point, you and rip with each one of the littles in front of you and your oldest perched behind rip with wide wondering eyes.

"daddy, an eagle!" she cheered, pointing over his shoulder at a bald eagle flying over the trees.

"good eye, baby," rip said, smiling as he high-fived the little girl.

she quickly became his right hand man. even at four years old, she was grabbing him a banana for breakfast before he headed out the door or helping him clean his boots. the older she got, the more responsibility she got, which was fine by her. she was strong and determined and a total daddy's girl.

until she became a brother's girl.

carter showed up when she was seven and she fell in love with him quickly. he was sweet with her, carrying her on his back out to the barn as she helped him shovel stalls the best she could.

rip didn't know how to feel about it until you finally approached him about adopting carter.

"it wouldn't be anything official since neither of y'all have any documentation or anything," you told him, fiddling with your fingers. "but, that boy needs a home. and rip, i really love him, and so does she, and so do you. we've got one extra room and a place at the table. i want him here. you've seen him with our baby girl, he wants to be a part of this family too. please, rip."

and so that was that. after you sat the boy down and told him, he became even more dependable. he was an avid protector of your daughter and rip actually began smiling at the sight of the two of them walking around the ranch.

rip didn't love carter the same way he loved his baby girl, he was always meant to be a girl dad, but he appreciated him nonetheless. the way he was with rip's daughters helped secure him in the little wheeler family, and rip was happy about it.

ryan:

ryan was in no way prepared to be a father. when you told him you were pregnant he about shat himself.

"but we used protection," he said, eyes wide as he paced the bunkhouse.

"well, quite obviously it didn't work," you said. you grabbed his arms. "ryan, hun, it'll be okay. okay? it'll all work out, we'll figure it out."

"i don't have anything for you. i can't do anything for you. i don't have a house for myself, i barely have my own truck, i make enough to live but i don't know how to provide for you," he stressed.

"we'll figure it out," you emphasized again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

and you did. with how long ryan had been working on the yellowstone ranch and how close your family was to the duttons (how you'd met ryan, actually), john gave you space in the main house to take care of you new little girl - heavens knew there was enough room, he barely even noticed you were there. he, himself, was kind of obsessed with the idea of having another pseudo grandchild, and ryan was convinced that was the only reason he worked it all out for y'all.

ryan was a nervous father. he was uber careful, keeping constant eyes on the baby or whoever was holding her. ninety percent of the time, that person was himself. he barely even let colby hold her and he cursed out jimmy when he asked, saying how he wasn't about to let that dumbass, brain-injured, bronco-riding klutz of a rodeo star hold his precious baby girl and drop her on her head just like his parents had done to him, obviously.

everyone had a good laugh about that one.

your little girl wasn't around the horses or cows, or even a damn rope for so much of her life, but what she was around was poker. ryan had her in his lap as they played cards since she was a month old and not sleeping through the night. somehow, impeccably, she went down without a fuss after sitting through a few games of cards with her father and his friends.

when she got a bit older, he taught her all his favorite childhood card games, but she got bored of them. when you first walked in on him explaining poker to her, you about smacked him upside the head, but when you saw her smiling and figuring out the order of the cards you let it slide.

"she'll be cheatin' out the rest of us in no time," ryan said, running a hand over her hair as he smiled up at you.

"whatever you say, cowboy," you sighed, sitting next to her and picking at the chips he'd laid out for her.

for her tenth birthday, he threw her a poker party with the rest of the wranglers, the duttons, tate, and carter, with ibc rootbeers in a cooler to make her feel just as cool as the rest of them. it was the first time she'd played with anyone but her parents, and she was stoked.

she smoked their asses.

they were freaking flabbergasted, even ryan. he pressed a kiss to her head, laughing as he congratulated her. "that's my kid, everybody."

lee dutton:

lee never wanted kids.

he knew it, you knew it, john knew it, hell, the whole family knew it. it was never in his plan.

but, you also weren't in his plan. he'd had a perfectly organized idea of being the forever bachelor of the yellowstone, hitting up bars for quick girls when he wanted a makeout or one night stand or whatever, and then returning to life on the ranch.

well, you showed up, a horse trainer from the sixes, travis wheatley's little sister, and he fell in love so fast he almost tripped over his feet. he rushed into dating you, proposing, and marrying you but no one in montana had any complaints, except for maybe your father, but he was in texas so it didn't matter in the long run. and he also, accidentally, rushed into getting you pregnant, which was not the goal at all.

"i know, and i'm sorry, but i'm keeping it, baby," you'd told him the night he found the test. you held his face in your hands, brows furrowed. "i want this. i hope you can understand that."

"i never wanted kids," he told you, shaking his head and breathing out a deep sigh. "but, uh, with you? with you, i'm not so opposed." he looked up at you, mustering a small, almost scared smile. "hell, we're already here, ain't we? let's fuckin do this thing, baby."

"language, lee," you laughed.

his mind was blown when you gave birth, absolutely scared and amazed out of his mind when the nurse handed over this perfect, slightly messy, bundle of pink blankets screaming bloody murder to him as they cleaned you up.

"holy shit," he muttered, staring down at his daughter with wide eyes.

"language, lee," you groaned, sitting up and reaching out for the baby. he handed her to you immediately, watching the both of you carefully.

his world changed that day.

as soon as you were ready to let her out of the house, he took her everywhere with him, and he was not ashamed about it. the strap-on baby carrier was his best friend as he walked around the house, grabbing her nursing bottles before heading out to the barn. john laughed when he saw him the first time.

"and what the hell are you doing? you can't cowboy with a baby, lee," he told his eldest.

"watch me," was his answer.

you didn't know he was doing all this, only being told that he'd take her out while you got some rest or did whatever you needed to get done. it was nice to have little breaks throughout the day, but you worried if she was hungry. well, until you saw the little bottle holster he'd made himself that he kept strapped to his side.

you almost thought it was ridiculous, but it was the best possible outcome you could've hoped for, so you let him take her out every few days.

that girl was practically a cowboy by the time she was five years old. she knew all the terms, had her own boots, was dressed in the same wranglers and carhartts as her dad and grandpa, and always was begging for a horse. she wasn't allowed quite yet, but lee promised her she'd get one eventually.

he took her out hunting with him basically her whole life, teaching her the sacredness and also the practicality of it. she became obsessed with guns when she was eight, something you became especially worried about. you made him put extra locks on each case and then on the safe, the fear of her getting into them eating you alive. she complained about not being able to get a tag until she was twelve, but you thanked the state for it.

lee, of course, found a workaround where she began shooting bucks as big as the bed of his truck when she was only ten because it was on the dutton property - who was going to know? if she could love him anymore than she already did, she definitely did after that.

you kept it to the one kid, knowing she was all lee could really handle. and you were both happy to have her be the center of your worlds. and as much as some traditional montanans might argue that dutton ranch's succession should be male, anyone who met your daughter knew that that little ten year old was as much a cowboy as anyone on the ranch, following in the large footsteps of her grandpa and father with exactness.

jimmy:

jimmy was ecstatic when he learned you were pregnant, as nervous as it made him too. everything in his life was starting to work out; he'd figured out his dream job - to be a horse trainer, he had a good job, y'all had just gotten married, and he bought his first house right by the sixes.

"this is perfect," he told you, kissing your forehead as he smile widely. "everything is so perfect now, darlin'."

when you learned it was a girl that day at the doctor's office, he was even more ecstatic.

"our little cowgirl," you told him as he pulled you into his side.

"our little cowgirl," he nodded, a certain proud smile on his lips as he thought about what it'd be like raising a little cowgirl as a real cowboy now himself.

now that he had money, and good money too, he let himself go out and buy the baby all sorts of things, from cow printed blankets to little stuffed horses. you laughed when he came home one day with tiny little baby boots.

he put them on her as soon as she'd grown enough to give him the chance. he held her hands as he walked her around the room, the small girl bouncing a bit as she situated in her boots.

"i know they're kinda funny, hun," he hummed to her as she walked with him. "but, they're actually the best sort of shoe. you're gonna love 'em."

his favorite part of the day had always been coming home to you, but it was even better now that he had two people to come home to. and she loved her daddy, babbling with that big baby smile as she crawled to him. he'd always scoop her up into his arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek before walking through the rest of the house to find you.

he told her stories about the yellowstone ranch when he tucked her into bed, her favorite black and white spotted stuffed horse in her arms as she gazed up at him with a smile and big hazel eyes that mirrored his own.

when she got older, you started bringing her down to the arena to show her what exactly her daddy did. at that point, he was on travis' main team of show horse trainers, and he was happy to show off for his wife and little girl. she was always excited to watch him, hanging off the fence with a wide grin as you stood behind her, waving at your husband just as travis yelled at him to get back to work. it was the first time jimmy had ever really talked back to him, yelling not to curse when his daughter was around. travis never did it again and began to show off for the eight year old when she was around too.

she was spunky, way spunkier than jimmy was ready for and sassier than he ever had been. "she gets this from you."

when she went to travis asking for her own horse and better lessons, her brows raised and arms crossed over her chest, jimmy nearly had a heart attack. he dismounted his horse, crossing to his daughter but not making it before travis responded.

"what do i get if i do? horses aren't free, you know."

"a new trainer," she answered, nodding at him firmly. "i've seen y'all do this my whole life. i've rode my whole life. just gimme a shot."

at the ripe age of ten, she'd managed to convince travis wheaton to give her a horse, let her dad teach her, and the opportunity to stay on as she trained. travis laughed when he passed jimmy, shaking his head. "i hate to break it to you, but she ain't your kid, jimmy."

jimmy breathed a sigh of relief before he pulled her up onto his horse, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"you've really got to talk to me about things like that before you just do it," he said. "that's my boss, you know that?"

"he ain't my boss," she laughed, kissing her dad on the cheek.

spencer dutton:

spencer had always wanted kids. and ever since he met you he knew he wanted to have them with you. but, life as a hunter in africa was dangerous enough as it is that you both agreed to wait.

life had other plans.

well, you weren't exactly careful, for one, and for two birth control was iffy, so you should've seen it coming sooner or later. it probably should've been later, but what the hell.

he decided that was the right time to quit being a predator hunter then and did what he could to get you both back to montana, hopefully before you popped. you didn't argue - you wanted to be home when you had your baby too. he took excellent care of you on each ship, each town, and on the train west, ensuring you always had water and foods that didn't make you want to throw up, being a constant pillow for when your body decided it needed a nap, and paying for the most comfortable accommodations the different vessels had.

you didn't know the gender of the baby until after you had her. you were exhausted, but spencer had been right by your side the whole way through, smoothing your hair back and cooling you down with a wet cloth as cara coached you through it.

the look on his face when cara exclaimed it was a girl was one you would never forget; a mixture between love, adoration, and excitement, and fear, protectiveness, and anxiety.

he coddled that baby girl. every night, he spent hours cooing to her as he rocked in the rocking chair his father had built when he was just a baby. he told her stories about cowboying and africa, sang her lullabies cara used to sing to him, and never missed an opportunity to kiss her sweet chubby cheeks.

"you're so good with her," you mumbled to him one night as you sat on his lap in the chair, head tucked into his neck as he held you in one arm and the baby in the other. "how do you do it?"

"i don't know," he whispered, glancing at you with a gentle smile before you both returned your gazes to your daughter. "loving her comes as easily to me as loving you. it's as natural as anything i've ever felt."

"so it's just instinct that helps you calm her in any situation?" you asked.

"well, i can't calm her in every situation," he said with a quiet chuckle. "you've got the only solution sometimes. but, yeah. i guess in other ways it is."

then things got worse with whitfield and the ranch. she was older then, about six, and spencer made sure she knew to never go anywhere alone, to scream for help if she ever saw anyone she didn't know on the ranch (because she knew and adored literally every cowboy working for jacob), and to run. fast.

and she was fast. like, surprisingly fast. she took great pleasure in challenging spencer and jack and jacob to races. spencer and jack always pretended to let her win, and so did jacob, but after he got shot she actually did start to win. when he was told to walk around to get better, she thought she would be encouraging by walking right by his side a little faster than he was able to. it did actually get him moving quicker, but cara was constantly rolling her eyes as she did it.

when she got older, of course spencer taught her how to shoot and hunt.

"this is what daddy did before you were born, princess," he told her as he helped her line up the sight to the target.

"kill things?" she asked, raising her brows. you laughed as you sat to the side, watching in amusement.

he cleared his throat, his brows furrowing a bit. "well, i mean, yes, but i was protecting people from animals that wanted to hurt them. and other times getting food for the family."

"so, do i have to get food for the family now?" she asked, looking down at the gun. he laughed.

"you don't have to, no," he reassured. "i just wanted to show you. it's something i love to do, and something to protect you. that's why mama knows."

"mama knows?"

"yes, i do, baby," you chimed in with a smile. "he showed me back when we were just teenagers. he's a lot better than me though, so you listen to him."

"can we shoot something real next time?" she asked, glancing back at spencer.

"maybe not next time, but when you get enough practice in then yeah," he answered.

"when is that?"

she had a lot of questions. and she always asked them. but, spencer was as even kiln as ever, so patient when he responded to her and made sure her curious little mind found the answers it needed.

but, whenever you thought of spencer as a father, there was always one night that came to mind. she was probably four and it was way past her bedtime. y'all had put her to sleep maybe ten times before she finally stayed in her room and you left to hopefully get some rest.

except spencer turned on the radio. you'd just gotten it the day before and were so excited about it and when he flicked it on, some slow, country tune was playing through it. he took you in his arms then, holding you close to his chest with his lips on your temple, swaying you both gentle along to the tune.

you were smiling the whole time, letting him twirl you once before bringing you in close again. only a few minutes into your impromptu slow dancing, your door was pushed open and in walked your toddler.

there was no shouting or frustrated demand for her to go back to sleep, even though that was very tempting given your last hundred tries to have her do just that. instead, spencer pressed a kiss to your head and twirled you out of his arms as he moved to scoop her up instead. he held her up with one arm, his other holding her hand as he spun slowly in circles.

"if i let you dance with mommy and me will you stay in bed?" he said, raising his brows as he met the eyes that matched his. she giggled, nodding as he kissed her cheek. "okay, then let's dance baby."

you leaned up against the bed frame, watching them with crossed arms and a smile as the music played through the small radio. he met your eyes and his smile grew, slowly spinning his way over to you. releasing your daughter's hand, he took yours instead and pulled you in close. his hand moved to your waist and soon you had your arms wrapped around him and your baby girl as he held her between you, swaying slowly.

as the song ended, he twirled you and then spun himself to earn a giggle from the toddler before setting her down and taking her small hand to give her a twirl as well.

your heart was so full in that moment. when he returned from tucking her in for the (hopefully) last time, you kissed him slowly, pulling away with a soft smile.

"you're a good dad, spencer," you told him. he shrugged, pulling you back in to hold you in a gentle embrace.

"you're a good mom. you make it easy for me."

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thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[totally-paused]

Brandon Sklenar competing in the 2024 NCHA Celebrity Cutting Challenge

[hellcheerful]

“My family is in danger. My wife is lost to me, and I don’t have time.”

SPENCER & ALEXANDRA DUTTON 1923 | SEASON 2

[pavlmescal]

GET TO KNOW ME ➣ Ships ♡Spencer & Alexandra Dutton♡ -1923 (2022-)

[carebooks]

so, Elsa Dutton meets a cute cowboy, he dies, she goes off on his murderer, then meets, falls in love, and marries Sam, a member of the Comanche tribe… all in the spam of like half a year or something?

James and Margaret have one of the best marriages on the show, only competing with Jacob and Cara. or vice versa.

Jack Dutton moves his wedding date around but still ends up with his wife no matter what, keeps his promise. Is committed to the end.

Spencer meets Alex one day and after five minutes of talking to her, lets her join him on the safari trip. in the course of one day, they are engage. by the end of their adventure to get back on a boat, they are married.

Kayce meets and gets Monica pregnant when they were 18-19, immediately goes to marry her and is still with her to this day.

Beth saw Rip once when they were teenagers and just never let him go, literally kidnapped a priest at 35 so he’d marry them.

the Dutton’s really are just built like that when it comes to romance, huh?

[bodybebangin]

[i-heart-yellowstone]

Yellowstone Masterlist

Kayce Dutton

You're a Darn good Wife - Reader surprises kayce with lunch at his office

My Cowboy Casanova - Request from @nothingc001 hello! I hope you are doing well, I was wondering if you could do a Kayce Dutton story about the song “cowboy casanova” by Carrie underwood

Always One Of Us - Reader tells gator to have a day surprising everyone with lunch " I just want you to know I appreciate you and want to be a part of the family " reader said " you are part of the family " john said kayce gets down on one knee in front of everyone

Protecting the Heir - Kacey fic about s4e1? Where him and Monica were already divorced, he was dating someone else who was with Tate that day. She gets shot protecting him. Just a lot of fluff!

Ride is Worth the Fall - He fell for miss rodeo in high school, this or may not be partly from the song The Fall by CoJo, but she does rodeo with Travis because she moved down to Texasx and Kayce get jelly

Why Would You Wanna Marry Me For Anyhow - reader gets kidnapped a couple of days before her wedding to Kayce? When they find her, she wants to still get married and Kayce is kinda shocked. A lot of fluff please!

Shopping with Beth Dutton - Wattpad request - based off where Monica was getting accused of stealing, but instead it’s the reader. Kayce finds out what happened with you and Beth

Second Chance at Love - one shot or a couple shot about the storyline of Avery coming back in Kayce' life but make it y/n and him falling for her and the rest can be up to

Spencer Dutton

Head Above Water - Where the ship capsized and reader don't know have to swim

Rip Wheeler

Peace in a Creek - Reader and Ryan or Rip are fixing fences like Colby and Teeter were in the one episode and kinda screwing around, like not focusing on the fences and just having fun. And then reader decides she wants to jump in the creek so she does and then the two guys go after her like they did Colby and Teeter

John Dutton

Always Allow Some Help - John Dutton with wife reader. Him teaching her how to ride a horse and she keeps falling from the horse which he would catch her.

Young John Dutton

Watch Yourself Cowboy - Giving her a massage after a long day. But John being John is getting handsy

Ryan

Lee Dutton

Callin' Somebody Mama - Lee surprises the reader

Tags [ @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @pear-1206

[indigomez]

A Brighter Lighthouse.

1923 Spencer Dutton x f! mermaid reader. ( No use of Y/N. Can also be red as unnamed original character. ) Mentions of blood, open wounds. Authors note: I haven't written in years so bare with me I'm quite rusty. But! This piece was inspired by this audio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUr6soGZKDE&pp=ygUMcGViYmxlcyBhc21y and it's Halloween and I like mermaids so I'd like to think it's meant to be! Hope you enjoy it! ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ With the tides mellow, the breeze cool and the stars glittering in the sky. Spencer for once allowed himself to be at ease. His tired eyes gazed to the stars with a mindless wonder. Surprised at the sudden silence of his often raging mind. He took a breath. Looking at the small rocky island his lighthouse stood upon, with a soft grin he watched his dog Odis venture to the small sand patches, keeping the large dog in his sight as he continued prepping his dinner, mixing the sorry excuse for porridge mash vigorously with a curse. " Damnit' too watery... " He muttered, he took the box of dried porridge and poured it into the bowl, he continued mixing before ultimately hanging his head in defeat. " Too fuckin' thick..." He scoffs, shaking his head. " Y'know Odis, 'm starting to think -" He calls out, that's when he then notices that Odis wasn't at the sand patch. He turned his head, nor was he on the smaller grass patch. " Odis?" He calls out, waiting a spell to hear any sounds of him... Nothing. Something's not right. "Odis! C'mon kid lets eat!" Spencer called out again, grabbing his dogs food bowl and pouring the sorry excuse for porridge into his bowl. Noticing that his dog still hasn't come to him, he places the bowl down to the table with a roll of his eyes, so he calls his name out again. A series of whistles, and again nothing. "Odis! What did you get yourself-" The abrupt, low, and harsh barking halted him. The hairs of his neck stood up as he snatched the kitchen knife from the table.

With an aggressive shout of his dog's name, his heart pounding against his ears at the sudden ambivalent nature of the nighttime, he followed his dog loud barking and snarling, rushing over rocks and uneven terrain he finally made it around the large boulder to the rocky shore, there. In the dim light he could see his dog Odis barking and nipping towards a mass thrown against the rocks. With an eerie squint in his eyes, he carefully steps closer, A fish? No... He continues to step closer, A shark? "No.. It couldn't be..." He whispered, he stood silently. Letting Odis sniff the unidentified mass before he began to whimper, nudging and nipping at the supposedly dead animal. With a few steps closer, he snapped for Odis to move aside. Odis wouldn't budge. " Odis- son move." Dejected by his dogs lack of manners he looked over the large mastiff. "Oh no..." He drops his kitchen knife to the void of the rocks to hurriedly crawl over the sharp rocks. Finally reaching the two with a grunt he looks to the body with sorrowful eyes, followed by a slight shake of his head. Lord have mercy, I didn't think I'd have to see another dead body..

He kneels beside the body with a furrow of his brows, Odis relentless as he nudges the poor body's head with a pleading whimper. " Boy relax, ain't nothin' we can do." With those words Odis went into a frenzy, he continues to nip and nudge the body, he watched Odis as he dog scurried from nudging the body, to scratching and pawing at this large rock. Taking a closer step with a whispered curse he looks to her leg trapped between the cracks of the sharp boulders, he's in debates in his mind... Is this even worth it? With a final harsh nudge from Odis, the body cries out. Weakly moaning in pain, Spencer's head snapped as Odis licked the poor girl's face, bruised and painted with cuts from the rocks, it's not until then he finally registers what exactly he's doing. Or exactly who he's helping. "How the hell did you get here girl?" He spat, carefully twisting and adjusting her battered and bruised foot to try and ease it from the cracks, goosebumps littered his skin with every whimper and cry she let out. In a sorry attempt to adjust her body, he calls out to her again. " Don't move yet you hear me? You're almost out." He continued focusing on the task while Odis licked and nudged her head and chest, almost saddened for the girl as she weakly patted the dog. With a few shifts and twists, her leg was finally free from the cracks, he looked to the foot as best he could. " Gotta take you up the lighthouse, can't see too well to help you-" The leg was snatched from his grasp, looking up he finally meets her eyes. And oh boy was he locked in. The pure horror painting her features felt guttural, in a sorry attempt to try and shuffle away he stepped closer, holding his free hand out to her. "No no no- wait now just hol' on!" He called out, she was weak, and taking what was left of adrenaline she had she grabbed a rock. " Hey now- " With a pained grunt, she threw the rock, only tapping his shoulder with a pathetic pat before falling to the wet stones. Deep down he was amused by the attempt, poor thing. He thought he crawled his way over to her, kneeling beside her as his eyes gazed over her nude body. "Ma'am.. Ma'am what happened to you?" He asked, observing the damage done to her body he finally looked to her face. Her lip busted, minor cuts and abrasions here and there but no signs of horrible damage compared to her foot, he leans in closer, her eyes bored into his own. Petrified, she's purely petrified. He could see the tiredness in her eyes. "Ma'am hey-" She was losing it, fighting fatigue he puts a rather harsh pat to the side of her face, with a moan she fought the sleep before ultimately falling limp in his arms, Odis licking and nudging her again wasn't working. Spencer looks to his dog with a huff. "Do we have to?" Guidance... I'm asking for guidance from a dog. Spencer couldn't believe it, Odis then licked his hand which helped the girl ultimately make the decision, with a grunt. Spencer sweeps her up into his arms. " 'm trusting you with this one Odis.." And with that, he carefully steps his way towards the flatter side of the lighthouse, girl in arms. Dog in tow.

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The once calm evening now a semi-hectic night surely ruffled Spencer's normal routine of shitty gruel for a meal, a good book his beer, and falling asleep with his dog Odis. It's now turned into a scavenger hunt for what he felt was a nonexistent first aid kit for a naked woman found on the shore. He's scrambling, something there has to be something. He moves the heavy box to the side before opening it, with a rusty creek. Spencer cringed at the family of dust bunnies and spiders residing in the sadly preserved first aid kit. He looks to the contents, at least at ease with the full box, and he takes it back up the stairs. His footsteps echoed as he reached the top of the tower, where he saw his dog Odis. Tail wagging and resting his large head upon the girls lap, she petted him weakly, shivering and lethargic. She slowly blinks as she looks to Odis with some odd sense of wonder, once hearing his footsteps her tired eyes looks to Spencer. Defeat, she's utterly defeated. He makes his way over. " 'lright ma'am, I need to take a look at that foot alright? Then we can get you to bed. " His low voice echoed the room as she looks to Spencer, he couldn't quite read what she could be thinking. She's fuckin' weird.. He thought, shrugging his shoulders he bents down to one knee, taking the bandages from the box. " So.. What's your name ma'am? " He asks softly, taking the cleaning solution into his hands, after a few seconds of silence he looks up to her. She's just staring at him, he continues to wait.. And nothing, " Ma'am?" He asks again, still. Nothing, annoyed he continues to tend to her wound. " Fuckin' weird.." He whispers under his breath, he then pours the wound cleaning solution to her wound, jumping at the sudden cries coming from her. " What's your problem!?" He yells out, suddenly the smell was rancid... No, not rancid. Burning? He looks to her leg, he almost gagged at the sight of the wound expanding with a sizzling hiss, he holds her leg in place. " 'm sorry- I'm sorry!" He huffs frantically, he takes the bottle of water from the desk side and flushes out her wound, the sizzling then fading. Her once was a scrape now turned into a burn, her flesh scorned with splotches of blood, god he felt terrible. But he couldn’t help but question this iridescent glitter onto her wet skin, he speaks;" I'm so sorry. " He speaks softly, slightly defeated himself he holds her leg into his hands, he softens his grip, carefully patting away the excess water and blood from her wound. " Y'know, you still didn't tell me how you ended up here." He speaks, attempting to lighten the mood as he takes a clean gauze, to place upon her wound. " Still nothin' huh?" He huffs lightly, astonished by the silence as he continues to wrap her leg. " Could you at least tell me your name? " Curiosities just taking the best of him, just mindlessly asking questions as he rewraps her leg, correcting his mistake. But what he wasn't prepared for was to hear her weak, small but kind voice say her name. His brows raised at the melodious sound of her saddened voice, he looks to her again. Eyes wide in shock as she swallows. " That... That is my name." Her accent was foreign, though understandable. She looked to Spencer with still the tinge of fear, her body lightly less tense. "Spencer... " He speaks softly, mindlessly letting go of her leg. He continues to study her face. " How'd... How'd you get here? Why'd you end up like this?" He adjusts himself slowly to comfortably sit on the ground beside her, she slowly with a small whimper of pain adjusted to hold herself, her knees tucked to her chest. " He does not want me... He banished me from my home. " He hummed, nodding his head lightly as he listened to her limited words. " But... How? Where did you come from? " She fell silent, looking away from Spencer with shame and a tense tinge of her shoulders. " Ma'am..." He calls for her, he carefully takes her face into his hand. Moving her head to face him ever so softly. She leaned into the warmth of his hand, is.. Is she melting into my hands of all things?

" Please tell me, I need to help you." He asks, almost pleading for an answer, with a small sigh she relaxes to his touch. He felt her weight now resting fully on his touch, and he sighed. He scoops the girl into his arms once more, he studies her. What are you...

[rowenadrake]

"People think they're so smart. They ain't that smart."

[bullet-prooflove]

Hello lovely!

23. That boy he takes my breath away, I can't find the words to say

For Spencer Dutton please? 💗

Tagging: @kmc1989 @justforthesimcc @demi321win-chester @dontwanttobeanamericanidiot @toasted-stiletto

Companion piece to:

Of Dead Men & Broken Dreams - Spencer makes a relisation while stationed on the front.

Ink Stained - Spencer finally reads your letters after a near death experiance.

It’s the sound of hooves outside that lead you to pick up the gun that you keep in the bed beside you. It’s a Springfield bolt action rifle, one that was handed down to you by your daddy, just like the ranch he put in your brother’s name, knowing that James would never step foot on it.

You’ve kept it close since the shooting six months ago, since Banner tried to murder you and the Duttons in an ambush on the road. Your families have been close since they settled, Cara taking you under her wing after your father had passed away a few years ago. Their cowboys take care of your herd after your own scattered to the winds because they won’t listen to a woman, especially not after you put a carving knife through Cal’s hand for trying to coerce his way into your bed.

“There’s a madness in that one.” He’d heralded to the others as he spat on your porch, cradling his bloodied hand to his chest. “She’d rip your dick off if you tried to fuck her.”

They’d dispersed after that and you couldn’t say you were sad to see them go because the truth is you hadn’t trusted a single one of them after Donald Whitfield had come sniffing around trying to buy the land. Cal wasn’t the first in a long line of men trying to make their fortune by putting you on your back, you’re certain he won’t be the last.  

Your white cotton nightdress flutters in the cool air as you raise from the bed, snatching up the rifle. You hurtle down the wooden stairs, tearing open the door, stepping out onto the porch in bare feet. You cock the weapon, your jaw tensing as you jam the barrel against the space where the bullet infiltrated your body. Your sight adjusts to the darkness as you line up the gun with the man racing towards you on horseback. Your finger tightens on the trigger, squeezing and the gun bucks against you, your bullet sailing through his hat, knocking it clean off his head.

“That was a warning shot.” You call out as he tugs at the reins, staying his horse. “The next one goes through your skull.”

“Why don’t you put it through my heart? Lord knows I deserve it.” He says getting off his horse and tilting his head up toward you.

The moonlight catches his tanned features and the air rushes out of you because it can not be Spencer Dutton standing in front of you, it can’t be the man who promised you the world and then disappeared from it.

You don’t lower the gun as he steps towards you, instead you press it against his chest. His hand grips to barrel, guiding it higher so there’s no doubt about which organ your bullet will pierce if you pull the trigger.  

“You wanna kill me Kit, do it.” He tells you with a ferocity you feel in the depths of your soul. “I died the day I left you, you’d just be finishing the job.”

“You die, I die.” You say as you look into his eyes with a fierce look of your own. “Isn't that what we told each other before you took off to the front?”

If he’d died on that battlefield you would have followed him right into that grave, you both know it. You lower the gun and his gaze strays the scar peeking out from underneath the collar of your white night dress. He reaches out, his fingers drawing the fabric away so he can see the wound in all it’s glory.

Just half an inch lower, he thinks as he studies it. He flattens his palm against your chest, feeling the thrum of your heart underneath his fingertips.

“Do you still feel me here?” He asks, his voice raw with emotion.

“Yes.” You whisper, your hand covering his. “Every damn day.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dirbenaffleck]

BRANDON SKLENAR as SPENCER DUTTON 1923 ‧ The War Has Come Home

[jetblack4realz]

damn bars - yellowstone boys

how the yellowstone (& 1923 too) boys react to you getting hit on at the bar

kayce, rip, ryan, carter, spencer

word count total: 5k

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kayce dutton:

you had gone out to the bar for one reason and one reason only: to dance.

you and kayce loved to dance, but you didn't get many opportunities to. so, when one night john took tate for a sleepover, winking at you as he pulled the boy away, you decided to get out there and swing away like you were teenagers again. you grabbed beth and rip to come too, knowing they'd appreciate getting out even if they didn't dance - would rip ever dance? probably not.

it was fun for the first little bit, all the good swing songs playing as he twirled you around the wooden dance floor. you pulled out old tricks he forgot you knew and he twisted and flipped you into cool routines you forgot he knew. when you decided to take a break, kayce heading to the bathroom while you ordered a drink, you just knew something was going to happen.

but, you ordered anyways, eyes on where beth was shaking her ass away to the fun country music playing and where rip was watching her with the fondest smile you'd ever seen from him.

the bartender slid you your drink. you smiled. "thank you."

he nodded at you, walking down the bar to attend to another customer as you leaned your back against the counter, eyes back to your sister-in-law.

"you've really been busting a move out there."

you turned to see a man, taller than you but definitely shorter than kayce, bigger, with a brown hat and black boots. he wasn't necessarily attractive and there was just something about him that made you want to scrunch your nose, so you did.

"yep," you hummed, sipping on your whiskey.

"you've only had the one partner. i'm sure i could show you some moves if you're looking for a new one," he said, glancing to the side as a smile pulled up one side of his mouth. "i don't see him here anymore."

"he'll be back," you told him, setting your drink down and looking him over again. "and even if i was looking for another partner, you don't look like much of a dancer, buddy."

he knitted his brows at that, looking down at you with a curious smirk on his lips. "spicy. i like that."

you wanted to throw up.

"don't call me that," you said. "that was gross."

"oh come on, darling," he said, shifting so he was more in your view. "just one dance? he'll never even know, he ain't here."

"he is." you held up your ring finger, flashing the rock that was your wedding band at him. "i ain't going with you buddy."

and that was when he grabbed you, hand on your hip as he pulled you into him. he smelled like bad beer, cheap cologne, and straight b.o. you instantly pushed away even as he held you tighter, speaking now: "one dance, baby. life is too short to only dance with one man the rest of it."

"life's too short to dance with ugly men," you retorted, scrunching your nose again as you finally, very forcefully pushed him away from you, backing towards where you knew rip was last standing. except he wasn't there.

you looked at the dance floor and your mind was blown. of course the one time rip wheeler decides to take to the dance floor was when you were actively being harassed at the bar.

the guy didn't like your answer and stepped towards you, mouth open to say something before another figure stepped in front of you, one you knew very well. especially since you'd picked out his shirt. you breathed a breath of relief as he glanced back at you, checking you were okay before returning a much more menacing gaze to your advancer.

"i don't know what you've said or done thus far, but the way my wife is lookin at you doesn't look very good for you," kayce said, his eyes turned in a glare as he stepped towards him.

"look, man, all i wanted was a dance, not anything more-"

"a dance is still too much to ask for, especially when she's already said no," kayce said sternly. "leave. now."

"what, like the whole-"

"i'd really love a reason to punch you and if you keep talking you're gonna be giving me one," kayce warned, but the guy didn't get it apparently because he kept going.

"hey, man i didn't do anything-"

kayce looked back at you. "he touch you?"

the moments between you nodding and kayce full on clocking the guy in the jaw went by in literally the blink of an eye. the man stumbled back and kayce swung again, effectively knocking him to the floor. he kicked him then, the man folding in half with a groan. kayce moved to do it again when you grabbed his arm.

"baby, let's just get out of here," you told him. "i don't need you getting in trouble."

"i'm the livestock commissioner, i'll be fine," he said.

"well, then, just..." you moved around him to where the dude was sprawled on the ground, looking up at your husband in fear as some blood tricked from a cut in his lip and also between his teeth. everyone in this town knew kayce dutton could throw a punch.

you stomped on his hand then, hard, earning a shout and an instant recoil. you could've sworn you felt a crunch under the heel of your boot when you did.

"so you can't grab any other girls anytime soon," you said before turning on your heel and grabbing your husband, who looked like he was chomping at the bit to get back to pummeling him. "c'mon, baby."

but, tonight was supposed to be fun. when you pulled him out the front door for some fresh air and maybe to bar hop, you thought to remind him of that. you turned to him with a smile, hand cupping his face just below his jaw. "c'mere, cowboy." you kissed him slowly, his hands falling to your waist almost instantly as he folded to your touch, returning the kiss eagerly.

when you pulled back, he kept you close, kissing you again.

"thank you," you breathed out when you finally broke again, smiling up at him. "i can always count on your mean right hook to get me out of any bad situation."

"i practice it just for that," he said quietly, pecking your lips again.

you laughed lightly. "seriously, thank you though," you said, wrapping your arms around his middle as you relaxed in his hold. "for saving me."

"i'll always save you," he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "and i'm never going to the bathroom while we're out again."

rip wheeler:

to get rip to go out was a chore. it usually took some promising of later nightly activities and some chanting and begging from the wranglers too. and when you finally got him there, he wasn't exactly interactive, mostly just watching you dance and getting you the appropriate amount of refills to keep you semi-aware.

aware for situations like this.

you were dancing the night away with teeter, hands in the air as you laughed and jumped and twirled with your favorite of the cowboys, glancing up at rip regularly to shoot him a wink or shout something about how great his ass looked in those jeans, when suddenly you felt hands on your waist.

you spun around, brows shot straight up as you swatted this strange, tall and skinny man who oddly reminded you of a drugged out, dark haired jimmy, man away from you, stepping back and bumping into teeter. "damn you're ballsy, dude," you said. he stepped back to you, his hands landing on your waist again, fingers brushing over the waistband of your jeans as teeter grabbed your shoulders and helped you shuffle away. "seriously, get off!"

"hey, come back here, baby-"

it was instinctive, really. your father had taught you how to throw a proper punch and rip had taught you the best places to throw it, and well, the first one that came to mind was the throat.

he staggered back with a choked breath, hand rising to his jugular as he stared at you with wide eyes. "you crazy bitch!"

"did you seriously just call me the bitch?" you said, stepping towards him now with your hand balled into a fist.

but, before you could throw another punch and before the psycho dude could fully recover, rip was now in the picture. two extremely well-placed punches sent the creep into the surrounding crowd. no one did or said anything for a few moments, everyone having seen him grab you and insinuating exactly who rip was in this situation.

he turned back to you, grabbing your hand tightly and sending a look teeter's way that had her collecting the rest of the wranglers, who had all suddenly appeared at your side.

"let's go," he said strictly.

"can we go to another bar?" you asked as he dragged you out of the facility and towards the truck. he let out a short laugh.

"there's no way in hell i'm letting you back into another bar anytime soon," he said. "if another psychotic bastard thinks he can put his hands on you i can't promise that i wouldn't kill him right then. it took a lot of restraint not to keep going in there, baby."

"rip, come on, let's have fun tonight - woah!"

and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder in a fireman carry. he barely even stopped to do it, just scooping you up and continuing on to where he'd parked the truck.

"nope," he said. "and anyways, there's other ways to have fun." he pulled the door open and set you on the passenger seat with a smirk. "you have a couple promises to fulfill for even dragging me here in the first place."

"damn," you mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, shutting the door and crossing to the other side. as he got in and buckled, you looked over at him with a bit of a dopey smile on your lips. "have i told you i love you recently?"

"i'm sure you have, baby, but i'm happy to hear it again," he told you, smiling your way as he started the truck up.

"well, i do love you. and thank you. that sucked."

"and it ain't ever gonna happen again on my watch," he promised. "he really just snuck up on you there."

"literally crazy."

ryan:

you weren't much of a games girl, which everyone thought was weird given the man you were with. but, you were content to watch, to sit at the bar conversing with the wranglers who weren't involved in the game of pool or dancing, and to watch colby crash and burn as he approached girls again and again.

that last one was your favorite activity.

every now and again you would wander back over to where ryan was playing lloyd or jake, cheer him on, give him a quick kiss, and then return to the designated spot colby kept coming back to after another failed attempt at wooing a tourist.

the tourists were funny too. you could always tell which ones had just bought their hats and boots before or even while they were in montana just to blend in. some of the girls were wearing such california things you wondered if they were wanting to blend in at all, which the answer was no. colby, and plenty of other cowboys, liked the tourists. or at least, for a quick one.

you were watching him with a grin as he stumbled on his words with a pretty brunette, sipping on your drink casually. he was using his hands to emphasize something and she did not seem like she was interested in that something at all. you giggled to yourself.

"you like people watching?"

you glanced to your side to see a shorter man with spiky blond hair at your side. this guy didn't even take a try at a hat, sticking it with bright and shiny new black tecovas with a pointed toe and a snakeskin design that was so opposite of what you were used to.

you didn't think you'd ever been turned off more by a boot.

"yeah, i do," you nodded, looking back at where colby was actively losing his chosen girl's attention. "it's entertaining."

"it is," he agreed, taking the seat next to you. "you from around here?"

for some reason, you laughed. you guessed it was because he was so obviously not from here that for him to ask you if you were was just funny to you. "yep. you ever heard of the yellowstone dutton ranch?"

"it got anything to do with the park?" he asked.

you laughed again before taking a sip of your drink. "no. around here, when people talk about the yellowstone, they're talking about the 800,000 acre cattle ranch just outside of town owned by the livestock commissioner and the oldest family in montana."

he seemed shocked, but he tried to get through it, continuing his little q&a. "you're from there?"

"it's my family that owns it," you answered easily.

"and what's it like owning 800,000 acres of some of the most coveted land in america?" he asked, tilting his head at you. if you hadn't before, you definitely piqued his interest now.

you shrugged. "it's a lot of work, but it's worth it. it's beautiful."

"lonely, though, i bet," he said, and that made you laugh again. wow, he really tried that one.

"no, actually," you told him. "need a good amount of people to run that ranch. don't get too much time to yourself."

"do you want time to yourself?" he asked.

"i'm good with what i've got, thank you," you told him. you looked over at where ryan had caught sight of your predicament and was making his way over to you. you stood, shooting the man at your right a polite smile. "one of the cowboys we've got is particularly attractive. i'm entertained enough, don't you worry about me."

he saw ryan then and stood as well. "i wouldn't say he's particularly attractive. you could do better."

"are you suggesting yourself?" you asked with a laugh, holding an arm out to wrap around ryan's waist as he came to your side, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before eying the man in front of y'all. "sorry, pal. you may be decently cute, but you ain't no cowboy. if you're looking to get lucky in this town it'd do you good to remember that. shoot for your own kind."

the man looked up at ryan. "you her cowboy?"

"damn straight," ryan answered. "you better take that advice. a lot of the cowgirls you'll see around here anyways are taken, you're asking for a fight talking to 'em. you're just lucky she played nice. it's the only reason i am too." ryan nodded, tilting his hat at the man before stepping away and bringing you with him. "best of luck. just not with my girl."

he took you back to the pool table with him where lloyd was laughing at the sight of you. he pressed another kiss to your head.

"did you really have to call him cute?" he asked you.

"decently cute," you reminded with a shake of your head. "i called you particularly attractive, which is an understatement. i just didn't wanna shake the guy's confidence down too much. those boots are doin that enough for him."

ryan laughed. "damn tourists."

carter:

nearly everything carter did reminded beth of how rip was at that age. and nearly everything you did as you consistently visited reminded her of how she was at that age.

it had her worried and excited.

"don't break his heart," she told you one day, cornering you after lunch. "i've been there, i've done that, it's terrible for everyone involved. save yourself the trouble and just snag him now, you know you want him and he wants you. just date, okay? and don't be a bitch later."

the words shocked you, but definitely kicked you into gear. carter was shier than you ever were, awfully polite and gentlemanly as beth had trained him to be, and so you were the one to get him into going to the bar.

"will we even get served here?" he asked, holding your hand as you led him in.

"hell yeah we will," you answered, smiling back at him as you approached the bar. you were quick to pull out your id - a fake one, but one nonetheless - and slide it to the bartender. "an old fashioned please."

"what about me?" carter whispered.

you laughed lightly. "just get your id out, darlin'."

confused but obedient, he pulled out his wallet and was surprised to see a new driver's license in the clear slot he usually kept his in. one that said he was 21.

he held it up as he cleared his throat, catching the bartender's attention. "make that two." he looked back at you. "these any good?"

"i think so," you answered with a shrug. "you ever have bourbon before, or just beer?"

"just beer," he nodded.

"well, hopefully you'll like it," you said with a shrug. "i've seen your dad make them back at the ranch. i'm sure you'll like them."

"oh, he's not my dad," he corrected as the bartender slid them over to y'all.

you furrowed your brows. "really? you look exactly alike."

it was as he was taking his first swig of his drink that you felt someone slide between you and the person sitting next to you, their arm settling on the counter in front of you. you looked up, brows raised as you found a man, definitely in his late 30s, in a nicer shirt than this bar deserved, brand new boots, and what looked to be a cross between dress pants and jeans. interesting.

"can i help you?" you asked, his positioning crowding you into your seat even though you didn't move much. this was your bubble, he was the one who had to get out of it.

"just wondering if you had anyone paying for this drink," he said, his hand now on your whiskey as you narrowed your eyes.

carter moved sharply to stand, but settled when you set a hand on his knee, thumb rubbing circles into his jeans. you offered the guy a very thin, very fake smile.

"that's a nice shirt," you said, earning a wider smile from the man. "where'd you get it?" he almost went to answer, but you continued, your next few sentences stringing together in almost one breath.

"oh, well, i bet you don't know since your wife bought it for you. or - is it ex-wife, now? i don't see a ring, but i definitely see that faded tan line from it being there for years and recently taken off. probably because of a very similar situation we find ourselves in now. your wife is at home, with the kids, waiting for you to take her out to a dinner that will never happen because you're here, scoping out for the youngest woman you can find to sloppily sleep with in the back of your brand new honda civic that you convinced yourself and that girl was some new sports car because it's a 'newer model'."

already, he was in shock, staring at you with a scared kind of wonder that for some reason made you so proud.

you continued. "so, either you're here trying to do that again behind your wife's back, or she's already divorced you, which for her sake i hope is the case, because you seem like a pathetic piece of shit who blames his infidelity on being overworked and undersupported when really you're just a pedophiliac horndog who doesn't understand what the word 'no' means."

you took your drink back from him, taking a sip from it as you watched his expression change between shocked, offended, confused, and embarrassed.

"and yes," you added, "i do have someone to pay for my drink."

he gaped at you as you turned away from him, hand still on carter's knee as you grinned into your glass, sipping from it again. he glanced behind you at carter and you knew he wanted to exclaim how carter was a boy and he was a man, but didn't because he didn't know what else you would say.

"you psycho bitch," he muttered. "all i did was offer to pay for your drink."

"yeah, well i'm quite obviously young enough to be the daughter you had when you accidentally knocked up the drum major when you were a junior, so it's still kind of disgusting," you told him, rolling your eyes. "especially when it's so easy to see that the man i'm sitting next to is my boyfriend, or at the very least, someone else who is paying for my drink because we got them to us at the exact same time and my hand is on his knee. so fuck off, dickwad."

and he did, scoffing as he left. carter turned to look at you with wide eyes before he breathed out a laugh.

"you're my favorite person ever," he said. you smiled at him, shrugging lightly.

"i was trained by the best," you hummed.

he smiled at that before giving you a curious look, tilting his head at you. "so, i'm your boyfriend?"

"i'm hoping," you said, smiling back. "i mean, i really like you, and i think you like me. beth told me to get on with it already because why waste time, hence why we're here. i can call you my boyfriend, right?"

"yeah, yeah you can," he said, nodding as he breathed out a laugh.

you were beaming, maybe even blushing as you glanced away for a few moments before continuing conversation. "how's your drink?"

"surprisingly good," he answered. "you have good taste."

your smile softened a bit as you looked at him, nodding slowly. "yeah, i do." you finished your drink in one swig, setting the glass on the counter. "hey, do you wanna get out of here?"

"but, we just got here," he said, furrowing his brows.

"well, i just have this feeling more situations are going to arise that will either warrant me coming up with more speeches like that or you punching a guy square in the nose, and i'm not in the mood for either," you answered, standing and pulling your wallet from your bag.

"hey, no, i pay," he said. he tossed a ten and a twenty on the counter, his hand going to your lower back as he followed you out of the bar.

"hey carter?" you asked as he opened the passenger door to the truck, holding your hand to help you up. he smiled up at you.

"yeah?"

you reached forward, taking his face in your hand and pressing your lips to his gently. he froze for a minute, but stepped forward to reach you better and deepened the kiss as best he knew how, his hands on your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

when you pulled away, he was grinning, "damn."

spencer dutton:

when you and spencer left for africa, neither of you were fully prepared for the sheer amount of idiot tourists there would be, both on and off the safaris spencer went to go rescue.

most times, you accompanied him on his little adventures that were the hunts, him wanting to keep you close and you wanting to stay out of the city. but, for one fateful leopard chase, he'd told you to stay back at the lodge, which ended up being the right decision. you met back up with him in nairobi, where you'd stayed, and were sat at the bar waiting for him.

now, when a lady was without her man, other men noticed.

and the british men in africa noticed.

"no, thank you," you said with a polite smile as the tall, british man at your side told the bartender that he would pick up your tab. "i've got it taken care of."

"no, my lady, i insist," he said, helping himself to the seat at your side. he turned to the bartender then. "it'll be on mine. and i'll have a sidecar, please."

"a brandy man," you said, raising your brows as you sipped on your glass.

he chuckled, nodding as he then eyed your drink "yes. and... what it is you're drinking, ma'am?"

you smiled at him as you set your drink down. "whiskey."

"whiskey," he repeated. to say he was surprised would be an understatement, his brows raised so high they nearly touched his hairline. he didn't seem put off by it though, a smirk rising to his lips. "very american."

"well, i am american," you answered as you brought the amber drink back to your lips. "and so is my husband."

"and where is your husband?" he asked. there was a certain air to british people that made them seem as if they were always looking out for you and your wellbeing - he did not have it. his smile had shifted as he eyed you and your whiskey and his arm had somehow slid across the bar to nearly be touching yours.

"he's here," you told him, glancing over his shoulder in hopes that spencer would just appear out of the blue. "he's speaking with some coworkers currently."

"ah, a business man," he said with a gruff laugh.

"a hunter," you answered shortly.

his laugh cut short as he watched you with a hanging smirk, waiting for you to laugh and say instead that he was the viscount of hereford or something. but, you didn't. instead, you nodded, smiling as you set your glass against the counter once more.

"yes, he's an awfully good gunman," you continued. "grew up hunting in montana - where we're from. then, he went off to war. and, i mean, surely you've heard war stories about the american armies - they're intense. he learned a lot. it's definitely his area of expertise, shooting, so he does well here."

you felt a hand on your shoulder then, earning a quick check backwards. a smile tugged your lips up as spencer leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, his eyes on the man opposite you.

"you talking about me, darling?" he asked.

"yes, sir, i am," you hummed before turning to smile at the british man. "this is my husband, spencer dutton."

"i've heard about you," he stammered, brows knitted tightly as he stared at spencer. "you're the hunter, the one on the safaris who shoots the maneaters. the american."

"he's been hung up on the american thing," you mumbled to spencer, shooting him a sideways smile and shrug.

"yeah, i am american," spencer said with a bit of a huff. "had to clean up after y'all during the war, so i thought i might as well keep doing it here. just a bit more exotic, being in africa and all."

the guy didn't know really what to say, looking to you for help but you sure as hell weren't about to offer it. spencer's hand rubbed across the expanse of your shoulders, lingering on the exposed skin he could find.

"now, i appreciate you keeping my lady here safe while i was off, but it'd be good of you to move on now," he said, his brows raised as he eyed him.

"yes, of course sir," the guy answered, standing quickly. he looked to you, offering a tight smile as he nodded. "ma'am."

you nodded in return, an amused smile growing on your lips as you turned back to spencer. "it's about time you showed up. i thought you got eaten by that leopard."

"two leopards, actually," he said with a sigh as he sat on the chair next to you. he smiled when he met your eyes, reaching forward to grab the seat of the chair beneath your legs and pulling it towards him, the legs making a dull screeching sound before he stopped you in front of him. "i missed you."

"i missed you too," you answered, smiling as you reached a hand up to cup his jaw and bring his mouth to yours. he was happy to oblige, his hands on your waist as he tugged you to the edge of your seat.

"you're not leaving my sight for a while, baby," he mumbled as he kissed you again.

you laughed, shaking your head when you pulled back. "i reckon we should probably get back to our room then, hun. i wanna hear all about your hunt."

"i got hit on," he told you with a shrug, his grin growing as you raised a brow.

"serious?" you wondered as he stood, taking your hand and stepping back to let you out from between the bar.

"i'll tell you about it in our room," he said with a hum. you held up a hand as you began walking to the door.

"i don't wanna hear it," you said with a shake of your head. "i mean, she was probably right for thinking it-"

"they."

"they?"

"they."

"they were probably right for thinking it, but those things they were likely dreaming up about your cute face? that's my reality, baby. and i'mma make you say a lot of things that have nothing to do with those other ladies."

he laughed thinly, squeezing your hand as you pulled him out into the night air and down towards your hotel. his steps quickened as he moved close behind you, a certain urgency in his tone as he mumbled in your ear. "you never fail to, baby."

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[totally-paused]

BRANDON SKLENAR for Flaunt Magazine (2024)