Shelby's

Shelby's

Tim Gutterson x afab reader

Justified

Warnings: cursing, references to puke and blood, drinking

Chapter 1:

Three kids puked in your class today and one of them was ON YOU. That stain was never gonna get out and oh boy did you need a drink. You decided to go to a bar called Shelby’s, it was a mid class establishment. One of the only nice and affordable places in Lexington. You had just gotten off work when you decided that drinking in your apartment alone sounded a bit too depressing tonight. You pulled up to the bar in your work clothes which consisted of jeans and a sweater (complete with puke stains) since the elementary school you worked at was pretty lenient on your dress code. Walking in you sat at the bar and ordered a jack and coke. A classic. If you got anything from your daddy it was his taste in alcohol. 

It was a Friday night so there were quite a few other patrons. A couple in a booth behind you, a couple in a booth next to that one, and a couple sitting across the bar from you. Damn. When was the last time you had sex let alone a relationship? You inwardly groaned and tilted your head down as you swirled your drink. Being in your late twenties was not very glamorous. You were an elementary school art teacher who just finished getting her masters a year ago. The work was fun and you enjoyed being a role model as well as a friend to the students like you needed when you were their age. With that goal in mind you didn't have much room to date in college. Having one long term relationship a few years back made you steer clear of romance while finishing your degree. Kenny was his name and apparently all he was good for was cheating on you at least twice. You dated for almost two years and when one of his friends finally slipped up and told you about Kenny’s “exploit” the night before you immediately packed his shit and changed the locks. He was never the best boyfriend, but you thought he loved you. Now love seems like bullshit, yet you still somehow wish something would work out.

While you were reminiscing about your past loves, the bar started to fill up. You had gotten there at 5:30 and now it was nearing 6:30. You had nursed two jack and cokes before you decided you had to drive home eventually. You ordered water and a beer. You had been enjoying the nice hum of people talking, but as more people entered the bar it became a bit of a loud and jumbled mess. You enjoyed the ambiance, but you decided that you should probably head out before it got too crazy. You decided to people watch before you did leave. An old guy in a bass pro shop across the room was on his 4th beer, bad fishing trip or good fishing trip and mad wife, you guessed. Another guy sitting a booth alone dressed in a suit on his third glass of whisky, divorce or a bad business deal. A group of barley legal looking kids packed into a booth only meant to fit four, all had beers and were laughing hysterically. Oh that was why it smelled like weed, they are high. You were so absorbed in the lives of others you hadn’t even noticed a guy sitting next to you. 

It was one of the only seats left at the bar, the other two empty seats being next to each other he thought he’d leave those open since he was alone. Tim had just got off of work and he needed a drink. Shooting people he could handle, but crying men who begged not to be shot. That was not up Tim’s alley and it stressed him the fuck out. Now all he wanted to do was drown his life into the practice of borderline alcoholism. He ordered two beers to start with and drank as he looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary. The same stories like every other day. Those who were with coworkers or friends, those who are drowning sorrows, and couples who seemed absorbed into each other. Tim liked to think that he was not a part of any of them, but he knew he probably fell into the “drowning of sorrows” club. The woman next to him though might actually not be a part of any of them. He had noticed her when finding a seat, but he didn't think much of it. Now that he was actually looking at her, she seemed mildly entertained as she watched a couple across from them. The couple was seeming to be in a heated discussion about… huh was that Star Wars. Tim hadn't ever gotten around to watching the movies, but he thought that was a pretty good guess. He looked back to the woman next to him, she was wearing a green sweater with sheep on it, that’s interesting. She also had a pair of jeans. There was a stain on her left hip, it covered both her sweater and her jeans.

“Hey, you got a stain on your shirt and pants.” he looked at you and muttered into his beer.

You jumped, completely absorbed in the conversation across from you. You turned your head to look at him and hummed, “ hmm?”. Oh, he’s pretty.

“ You have a stain,” he nodded to where the puke stain that you had tried to get out during your lunch break was.

“ Oh yeah,” you looked down at it. It wasn’t terribly noticeable, but definitely a weird looking thing. “A kid puked on me today,” you laughed. It was a bit of an airy giggle. You looked up at him. He furrowed his eyebrows as took a sip of his beer and looked at the stain.

“That sounds fuckin awful,” he drawled, “ Well that’s a stain i have never had to clean, good luck.” 

It was your turn to quirk your eyebrow, “ It sounds like you deal with a lot of stains?” 

“ Yeah, blood stains aren’t too hard to clean.” he spoke nonchalantly, but your eyes widened a bit. 

He took another sip of his beer then stuck out his hand, “ U.S Marshal, Tim Gutterson.”

At that you relaxed and smiled while shaking his hand, “ Y/N Givens, Elementary School Teacher.”

…

To be continued

A Marshal's Talents Part 2

Pairing: Tim Gutterson x Reader

Warnings:

mentions of guns, shooting, and other typical canon violence

Chapter Text

Media: Justified

Word Count: 1294

Part 1

Part 2

That night you got a call from your Aunt Helen in the middle of the night. It was something about Arlo not taking his meds that night and he was yelling at Francis outside. You got up and called one of your old friends for a ride. You had left your car in Virginia and didn't want to rent a car since you didn’t know how long you would be here. Your friend, Maggie had gotten off her closing shift at 1 am and picked you up around 1:30. It was a 2 hour drive and you insisted on paying her for the gas since it was so far and so late. She took the money but waved you off saying her house is an hour away so it wasn't a big deal. As soon as you pulled into the drive of your childhood home you could hear Arlo screaming from the porch.

Maggie stopped you before you exited the car, “ Do you want me to wait?”

“No, I'll probably be needed for a few hours.” you gave her a soft smile.

Maggie’s face was colored with concern, “ Alright then, just text me if you need a ride back.”

“ It’s really alright Maggie,” you continued, “ Thanks a bunch, I really appreciate it.”

And with that you got out of the car and walked towards the porch. You stopped half way and turned to wave to maggie as she backed out. You breathed a sigh, “ Alright Arlo..”

…

Raylan had gone down to see Boyd. There was construction on his way there so that added an extra hour to his drive. He heard Boyd had been at his cousin’s bar more recently and ended up at Johnny's bar. As he walked up to the door he encountered patrons leaving in a slight panic. Raylan bypassed them to see an altercation between Johnny and another man. Johnny had a sawed off shotgun in hand as he sat in his wheelchair. Raylan saw the man pull first. Raylan pulled faster than both of them and shot the man. At the angle Raylan was at he hit him in the arm and within moments the man was out the door. Raylan chased after him, but the man hopped in a van. Raylan knew he would not be able to keep up and it was dark so he missed the plate. He called Art, knowing the man would still be in the office. It was around 9 when he called. The local police showed up in a few minutes, but it took the Marshall’s over 3 hours to arrive at the scene. The Marshals stayed to question the witnesses. 

“So Raylan,” Brooks said as they leaned against his town car, “ I didn’t know you had a sister?”

Before Raylan could speak Tim walked from around the trunk “, I didn't know you had a hot sister.”

Raylan looked at Tim from under the brim of his hat, “ Tim, shut up.”

Rachel huffed a laugh and shook her head as Tim backed off, hands raised, with a smirk on his lips.

It was so late when everything was wrapped up that they decided to get rooms at the closest motel. It was a shithole. Raylan and Tim took one room while Art and Rachel took the other. 

Raylan’s phone rang at 3:49. He groggily picked up, forgetting to check the caller ID.

“ Hello?,” he mumbled. On the other bed, Tim sat up looking at Raylan. He had been a light sleeper ever since his service. 

“Raylan, I need you to get over here right now.” You whispered into the phone, someone was yelling in the background. 

Raylan sat bolt upright, “ Y/n?, Where are you? What’s wrong?,” he spat out. Tim’s eyebrows furrowed at the mention of your name.

“I’m at Arlo’s,” you breathed, “ He’s off his meds and waving a gun around, I have Aunt Helen hiding in your old room and I’m in the kitchen.”

“ I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Stay away from him.” Raylan hung up and started putting in his shoes and coat. 

“ Where we going?” Tim asked, following in Raylan’s lead putting on his gear and grabbing his gun.

Raylan grabbed his keys, “ Arlo’s. My sister is there trying to get him to take his meds and he has a gun.”

They left the room and practically ran to the car. Raylan must have broken 12 laws careening down Harlan’s road to get to the house. They pulled into the drive. Jumping out of the car they could hear the yelling from inside the house. As they ran up the porch a gunshot rang out. 

…

You were trying to talk Arlo down. He had worked himself into a rage, talking about how Francis had run away to noble's holler again. You were trying to get him back to reality when you heard a car pull up. You turned back to Arlo hoping to distract him from Raylan when he came into the house, but when you looked up you say your daddy pointing his gun at you and yelling at you like you were Francis.

“ No Daddy! I’m not Franci-” You tried to say until you heard a loud !POP! And felt a burning pain in your right arm. 

The next thing you knew you were knelt down on the ground with a pretty blond man next to you. You blinked hard and your head started reeling from the pain and noises surrounding you. Tim recognized your quickened breathing and wide unfocused eyes as a panic attack. After taking a quick look at your arm he saw it was only a shallow graze and focused back on you. He said your name and rubbed the sides of your shoulders as he looked at your eyes and tried to get your attention. It took a second, but you finally made eye contact.

“ Okay good. Now I'm going to need you to breathe,” you heard yelling to your left and glanced in that direction, but Tim spoke your name again. “ Y/N. Not over there. Here. girl, breathe.” He grabbed your left hand and put it on his chest. “ Breathe with me, okay? In… out… good. In and out.” He  continued this rhythm until you looked a little more relaxed and your breath started to even out. 

Tim knew that Raylan and Arlo were still at a standstill but their voices were getting louder. He didn’t want you to start panicking again so he decided the best plan was to get you out of the situation. He looked you in the eyes and said, “ Okay, we are going to walk outside to the car, is that okay?”. 

He waited until you nodded then he grabbed your left hand and put his other hand on your waist, careful of your right arm. You were still facing each other and once you both stood up he pulled you to him so you could not see your dad or brother. He then walked you to the door while leaning his head towards your ear. “It’s okay, we are just going to walk to the car. Don’t mind them.”

As you reached the porch you tried to turn your head to see what was happening. Tim moved you to his side as he continued to hold your waist as he pressed you against his left side. He guided you down the drive and to the backseat of the car. He opened the door and had you scoot inside to the middle seat while he dropped into the seat you left empty and closed the door. He texted Art after pulling out his phone. From your new vantage point you could see the house, but not the people inside. 

Shit.

The people inside.

“My Aunt Helen,” you gasped and turned to Tim.

“She’ll be alright,” he whispered. He was looking you over when your breath started to become uneven. At that Tim pulled your face towards his chest as he pulled you into a hug, still wary of your arm.

“ Shhhh,” he cooed, “ You put her in a room upstairs right? Raylan won’t let your father out of his sight and he definitely won’t let him hurt her.” Tim continued to hug you and run his hand over your hair and back. He didn't want you to overthink yourself into another attack and you seemed to gravitate toward physical touch. As he soothed you he could hear you begin to take more substantial breaths. After about 10 minutes while he cuddled Raylan’s sister he saw Raylan exit the house with his Aunt and a few more guns than he entered with. He looked like he was on the phone as well. Tim decided that it would probably ease your anxiety to see them, but when he looked down to tell and realized you were asleep. He decided to let you be while Raylan and Helen walked to the car. Raylan opened the backseat door and peered in with a worried expression.

“ She alright?”, Raylan asked, noticing your position on Tim and his face morphed into a scowl.

“ She will be,” Tim hummed, “ but I think she is in shock and she will probably need stitches. Arlo?”

“ I called the local police to grab him, he is currently handcuffed to the stair rail. I didn’t want him in the car with either of them,” Raylan said while looking between his sleeping sister and Aunt who wore an indignant expression on her face. 

“ You can leave me here Raylan,” she huffed, “ it’s my job to take care of him.” 

Ralan sighed and pinched his brow, “ Just get in the damn car.”

FINALLY SOMEONE IS WRITING FOR JON SNOW!!!!

Sometimes we must become our own hero🫡

Yk it's bad when you’re describing your type and it starts to sound more like a father figure 

Ever my savior III

Part 1

Part 2

No warnings on this one. Not beta read so if you see any mistakes I would appreciate it if you let me know.

It is a little longer and finally involves Jon. ;)

———————————————-——————————-

The man caked in blood was Jon Snow. 

After the affair in the courtyard, Ramsey was locked in the cages with his dogs. You later heard he was ripped apart by those same dogs. 

You saw Lord Snow start to delegate and split his forces so they could settle the battle adrenaline and recover. 

The next time you saw him he was clean. He truly was a wolf among men. His face held turmoil but he was a leader and assured his men of the peace they would encounter as they reclaimed Winterfell. 

You continue your daily chores as the new inhabitants of Winterfell moved in. Avoiding Sansa wasn’t too difficult. You did not want to remind her of Ramsey just as much as you did not want her to remind you of him. The Castle buzzed with the news of the reoccupation by the Stark family. 

You have learned things from the gossip in the kitchens which is where you tried to stay almost all day. You heard that Sansa took the Lord’s room which you thought was peculiar since Lord Snow seemed to be the in charge and he was the Lord of Winterfell. You did not know where the Lord or his commanders had claimed their sleeping quarters. 

One night you were finishing up the collection of dishes from the great hall and while you were carrying the two last mugs of half finished Ale to the kitchen you turned the corner and almost slammed into someone. 

He caught you by the shoulders and kept you upright as you stumbled.

“ I’m so sorry-” You looked up to the three people you had the least desire to run into in the entire castle, “ m-my Lord”

Lord Snow, Lady Stark, and Lord Balish all stared at you, each with drastically different emotions swirling onto their facades. 

“ No need to apologize, are you alright?”, The dark haired man who held your shoulders spoke first.

You sighed, “ Yes my Lord, thank you,” You ducked your head, and just as you began to make your escape behind the trio, little finger called after you. 

“ Lady Ashe!”

You flinched, but turned to acknowledge him,” Hello Lord Baliesh.” 

You notice Lord Snow look curiously between you and Littlefinger, and the Lady Stark looked quite astonished at the greeting you and Balish shared. 

“You’re a lady?” Sansa asked you, but before you could answer she turned to Balish, “And you know her?”

“ Yes, Lady Sansa, I thought you would recognize a fellow Lady of the North?” Balish asks then addresses you, 

“ Lady Ashe forgive me for asking, but why are you here, and not at Castle Ashe?” 

You try to answer but stutter over your words. 

Lord Snow blinks hard then, “ Ashe?”,  he pauses for a second then continues with a look of epiphany, “you hail from Ashewood!” 

You nod, “ Yes my lord.”

Sansa seems to wake from her shocked stupor, “ You were a lady this whole time,” She almost growls.

A wolf indeed.

“ Yes, My lady-”

“Do not pretend to be polite, You never were before.” She sneers.

“ I wasn’t permitted to speak to you-” You start.

“ You were not permitted to speak to me. You cannot possibly be serious,” she took a deep breath and slowly stalked towards you, “ You saw what he did to me, and you never helped, spoke, or even acknowledged me.” She continued.

You knew why she was upset, but you could not fathom why she was so hostile.

“ He hurt me, and you did nothing.” She finished.

“ I could not!” You finally spoke.

You looked into her angry eyes and met her fury. “ He hurt everyone, he was- he was cruel, if I helped you, there was no telling what he would do to either of us! To Theon!”

Taken aback by your response Sansa says nothing.

Embarrassed by your outburst you cast your eyes to the floor, “ apologies my lady,” You turned and bowed slightly to the other two, “My lords,” and you scurried to the kitchen to drop off the mugs and practically ran to your quarters. 

______________________________________________________________

The girl lowered her head as she walked towards the kitchen.

Not the girl.

Lady Ashe.

Jon is jerked from his thoughts by Sansa letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“ You know her?”, Jon asks, a little peeved by Sansa’s rude demeanor towards the Lady.

Sansa turns to glare at him, “ Sort of,” she groans, “ Not really, but I know she was serving Ramsey,” she finished sharpley.

“I’d say she was more than a servant girl to the Boltons,” Lord Balish chimes in, 

Jon tenses at this. With your reaction to Sansa and Lord Balish’s comment, your service could not have been pleasant.

“What do you mean”, Jon grumbles, his eyes meeting Littlefinger’s. 

“ She was promised to Ramsey before Sansa was made an option,” Sansa glares at him and he flinches a bit but continues, “ I do not know why she was not sent back to ashewood after the engagement was ended, but the Boltons were nothing if not cruel. I imagine she entertained Ramsey, or she was something he could hold over her father and brother, who I do believe, did not survive the battle.” 

Jon winces, he knew the pain of loss and capture. 

Sansa keeps her face pinched as she says, “ I didn’t know she was a Lady of the North, but that does not excuse her for ignoring Ramsey’s cruelty. She is a lady for Gods sake, she had more power to help than Theon did, but he was the one to help me escape!”

“ Sansa.”, Jon finds himself scolding, she blinks in surprise,” did you not hear what she just said. She knew of Ramsey’s incessant need to harm others, she knew because she experienced it first hand.” 

Lord Balish looks mildly impressed at Jon for being able to pick up what he himself had seen. 

“But-” 

Jon cuts Sansa off, “ But nothing. She is just as much a victim as you are, if not more. She was with Ramsey before you were and after you left.” Jon takes a deep breath.

“ I will walk you to your room Sansa. Lord Balish, I trust you can find your own quarters.”

Littlefinger bows his head and walks off. 

“Jon you cannot scold me, I am not a child.” Sansa speaks as they walk to her room.

He does not look at her when he says, “ Then do not act like one.”

Sansa makes an offended sound at this” Jon-”

“ No Sansa. You will not be hostile to Lady Ashe. She is a guest in Winterfell. Our guest who has suffered at the hands of the same man that you killed for revenge. We will not be harsh to a woman who’s only fault was fear.” 

And with that Jon left her at her door and stalked away to his own room.

During his journey to his bed he thought over the encounter.

Wait.

Why was she cleaning?

Fucking Boltons. 

______________________________________________________________

After your encounter with the nobles, you worked that much harder on being unoticable. You kept put of the spaces where you might see them and only left the kitchen and your quarters to do chores that were absolutely necessary. 

______________________________________________________________

Jon never seemed to be able to find you. He wanted to relieve you of your service and welcome you as a guest, but he never seemed to have enough time in the day to find you without being bombarded by a bannerman, Sansa, or Littlefinger. 

______________________________________________________________

Remembering Lord Snows comment about your family, you went to the maester one night, hoping to catch him alone. You knocked on his door and you were permitted entrance. 

“Good Evening My Lady” he says, sorting through papers on his desk, “ what can I help you with?”

“Maester”, you greeted, “ I was hoping you would allow me to use a bit of parchment and a quill to write my mother in Ashewood.”

“ Of course my dear”, he gestures to the stack of unused paper and offers you a quill and ink.

“ Thank you”, you say and start to write

Dear Mother, 

I have been in Winterfell for far too long. Since you are now in charge of Ashewood I would like to request that you would permit me to travel home to assist in the recovery of our house and promise fealty to the Starks once more.

You roll of the paper and the maester wraps it in twine and assures you that he will make sure you get the returning letter when the raven brings it. 

You thank him and walk back to your quarters. 

Ever my savior II

Part One

I appreciate the support on this fic. This is only a bit more and it's not beta read but neither was the first part.

Warnings: Gore, abuse

Please don't hesitate to let me know if there are any mistakes or incongruities. It also might be a minute before I can finish the next part since I have a final project due soon. Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

You wake up with a fierce pain in your abdomen. The maester scurries to your side.

“Be careful” 

You see the bandages wrapped around your stomach. You are wearing a thin shirt with bandages under and over. 

You look up at the maester.

“I'm afraid you may never-“ He looks into your eyes and you nod.

You would never have children. 

______________________________________________________________

You learned from the workers in the castle that Sansa was marching to the castle with her bastard brother, Jon Snow. Ramsey was occupied with his plans day and night. It was weeks before he summoned you again. You were healing well, but it was not something that Ramsey couldn't undo. You worried at your lip as you walked to his chambers.

Ramsey commanded you to undo your dress once you entered his room. You did so hurriedly and stood with the dress pooled at your feet. You knew that he wanted to admire his work. After all, he had met with the opposing army today, and tomorrow they would battle.  

You shivered, the cold seeping into your bones the longer you had to stand there. Ramsey circled you, appreciating your body that he had almost entirely covered in scars in the past 6 months. His eyes lingered on the unbandaged laceration across your abdomen. He smirked and traced it with his finger. 

“ Now that you can’t have children, your screams of pain belong to me.” Ramsey smiled and pulled away. 

“Leave now, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Ramsey flicked his hand and dismissed you. You pulled your dress back on and nearly ran from the room whilst attempting to return to your typical state of modesty. 

______________________________________________________________

You watched as the giant tore down the door.

You watched as he fell.

You watched the man covered in blood beat Ramsey Snow into nothingness. 

You watched as Ramsey stopped laughing and started coughing blood.

______________________________________________________________