grynas-zeme - Tumblr blog

grynas-zeme · 2 months

Text

Stay

Kayce Dutton x f!reader

Summary: When a downtrodden Kayce arrives on your doorstep at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and shares unexpected news, reigning in the feelings you’ve harbored for him for years becomes exceedingly difficult.

Word Count: 3.1k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Prompt: New Year's Eve kiss (dedicated to @villainvindicator 💖)

Content: NSFW, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, fingering, unprotected p in v (very brief mention of domestic abuse without details)

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

You’re nearly on the cusp of sleep when the sound of tires crunching along your gravel driveway rouses you from where you’re curled up on the couch. Stealing a glance at the clock on the wall, and you peer out the blinds, eyes widening a fraction when you spot a familiar red and white pick up truck pulling up beside your car.

The throw blanket pooled around your waist slips to the floor when you stand, striding across the room and opening your front door to find none other than Kayce Dutton standing there with his fist raised, on the verge of knocking. He lets his arm drop back down to his side.

“Well this is a surprise. I haven’t heard from you in months, Kayce. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask him casually as you step aside, gesturing for him to come in.

There’s no real weight to your words—you’re well aware Kayce has his work cut out for him between his own family baggage, on top of being a husband and a father. And you’ve been friends long enough that the lapse in time doesn’t make a difference, the two of you always find your way back to each other one way or another. But you can’t help but wonder what’s brought him to your doorstep this late on New Year’s Eve, of all nights.

He steps inside and takes off his hat, placing it on the hook beside the door, and it’s only then that you catch the downtrodden expression on his face that had been obscured by the shadows on your front porch. He reaches up, running a hand through his hair, the gesture drawing further attention to the prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve called, huh? I wasn’t thinkin’. Was just out for a drive and thought I’d stop in, I guess. I can go if you’re busy, though…” he trails off, hands tucked away in the pockets of his jacket.

Gesturing toward your faded t-shirt, sleep shorts, and the thick wool socks on your feet, you shake your head with a rueful smile. “If falling asleep on the couch watching a bad movie counts as busy, you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”

The corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly. “No New Year’s party for you?”

You snort, reaching out to take his jacket from him before he begins to take off his boots. “Who said this isn’t a party?”

Kayce chuckles, and it’s a rich, pleasant sound that flutters down your spine, settling deep in your gut with a warmth that leaves your insides tingling. You’re well past denying the effect he has on you.

He follows you into the living room, settling down beside you on the couch as you tuck your legs up under your body. Turning down the volume on the television, you glance over at him to find a far off look in his eyes as he glances around the room. His gaze slows when it begins to sweep over the collection of framed photographs adorning your mantle.

“Did you break up with Travis?”

You try not to look too far into the way he’d quickly picked up on the purge of any and all photographs including your boyfriend of three years, which had been strewn about the room up until two months ago.

“Back in October.”

He furrows his brows. “You didn’t tell me. I’m sorry to hear that.”

You laugh, a disbelieving look on your face. “No you’re not. He was an asshole.”

He trails a finger over a stray thread hanging from the edge of the knitted blanket draped over the back of the back of the couch. “Yeah, I’m really not. Well what happened?”

“We got into it again over how he wanted to move to Seattle, but as you know, I’ll sell my parents’ farm over my dead body. He was drunk though, and he got a little physical…” you trail off, stomach churning at the memory.

Kayce freezes, posture stiffening, and he growls, “Where the fuck is he?”

You reach out, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing. “I’m fine, Kayce. I promise. It’s handled, and he’s long gone now.”

He runs a hand over his beard. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Choosing your next words carefully, you reply, “You…had a lot going on with Monica, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Kayce parrots, dumbfounded. “You know I’d drop everything for you, especially if it meant finally having an excuse to kick his stupid ass.”

The conviction in his words makes your chest ache, because you know he means it. You shake your head, smiling weakly. “You were just counting down the days till you’d finally have a chance to do that, huh?”

He sighs, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. You know he fucking hated Travis. “Yep.”

In an attempt to change the subject, you segue, “So now that we’re caught up on my life’s current events, care to tell me why you’re really here?”

He bites his lip. “Can’t a guy just stop in and visit?”

You offer him an unimpressed look. “At almost midnight on New Year’s Eve?”

Covering his mouth with his fingers, he takes a deep breath. It’s then that you notice the ring finger on his left hand is noticeably bare, and you’re almost ashamed of the feeling that flares within you at the sight. He catches the way your gaze flicks to the spot, and he leans backward heavily.

“I can’t do this anymore with Monica. I’m so goddamn tired.”

“Are you…” you begin to ask.

“Done? Yeah. She can’t make up her damn mind, and she keeps draggin’ me along. So I decided for her,” he sighs, fingers reaching out to twist the ring that’s no longer on his finger. “She has Tate tonight, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I hopped in my truck and kind of just ended up coming here on instinct, I guess.”

In that moment, you know you’re both thinking back to all the times you rang in the new year together as teenagers, dashing across your parents’ backyard with sparklers in your hands while you waited for the countdown on the small portable radio sitting perched on the stairs to the back porch.

“I’m sorry. You know that you’re always welcome here,” you finally say after a few beats of silence.

“‘m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I miss you,” he laments.

“I missed you, too, Kayce.”

Kayce goes quiet again for a moment, until he eventually mumbles, “I just…don’t understand why I ain’t good enough.” He scratches the back of his head, letting out a huff of air. “I mean, I guess I know why—I’ve got too much fuckin’ baggage.”

Something in your chest clenches at the painful resignation in his voice, the undertone of self-loathing that lingers in his words. You’ve spent years biting your tongue throughout Kayce’s struggles in his marriage, but now, you can’t be bothered to hold them back.

“You’re not the problem Kayce, you never were. You just love her too much to see that.”

A reluctant smile tugs at his lips as he echoes your sentiment. “You’ve been counting down the days till you could say that, huh?”

Counting down is a goddamn understatement.

“You have such a big heart. You deserve better,” you tell him.

His expression softens minutely, and he considers your words, not breaking eye contact with you when he finally responds. “I think I loved the idea of her and what we had.”

The sadness in Kayce’s tone makes you want to crawl across the cushions toward him, to show him what exactly you think he deserves. But it’s certainly not the time. And it’s not your damn place, either. It never has been.

It never will be.

No matter how badly you may want it to.

Perhaps, if you’d been brave enough to tell him how you felt when you were younger, the unrequited, awkward feelings would have faded with time—something to be blamed on teenage hormones and the fleeting crushes they incite, ones that burn hard and fast, disintegrating quickly like a shooting star.

If you told him now, there’d be no turning back. No shelter to weather the irrevocable damage it would do to your friendship, the devastating chasm it would split open between the two of you.

Because the way you feel about Kayce Dutton is anything but fleeting.

Your phone screen lights up beside you, and you glance down to check the time. Standing up, you gesture for Kayce to follow you into the kitchen. You hop up onto the counter, reaching over to turn on the radio that’s mounted to the bottom of one of the cabinets and fiddling with the dial until the station you’re searching for comes in.

“For old time’s sake,” you grin as an announcer on the radio announces that it’s three minutes to midnight.

Kayce mirrors your expression with a genuine smile of his own, and you’re both quiet as you listen, the only other sound coming from your socked feet bumping into the cabinet below as you mindlessly swing your legs. With your gaze trained on the green digits lit up across the front of the radio, 11:59, you don’t realize that Kayce’s moved until you feel something bump into your knees.

He stands in front of you, the blue denim of his jeans brushing against your bare knees, and you go still, heels pressed firmly against the handle of the cabinet. You can hardly hear the sound of the 10-second countdown beginning over the blood rushing in your ears when he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“For old time’s sake,” he repeats, laughing weakly and rocking back slightly on his heels as he pulls away. It’s a friendly kiss, you tell yourself, mirroring the ones from your childhood.

5…4…3…

You stare at him, lips parted slightly, fingers tightly gripping the edges of the counter. He takes a deep breath, one hand flexing at his side.

2…

“Kayce,” you breathe out, hardly above a whisper.

The sounds of celebration begin to erupt from the radio’s crackling speakers, and he surges forward, cupping your face in both of his hands, his lips crashing into yours.

Kayce’s mouth moves against your own with purpose as he slots himself between your legs, one hand shifting to cup the back of your head as he strokes the curve of your jaw with the thumb of his other. The scrape of his facial hair against your skin while he kisses you is a welcome sensation, one that you’ve imagined time and time again. You reach up, running a hand through his hair, and a soft sound leaves his mouth as his hand drops down to rest against your lower back, pulling you against his solid body.

His fingertips brush against your skin where your shirt has ridden up, and you shiver at the sensation—the contrast between the feeling of his hands, rough from years of working the farm, and the gentle way he touches you with them. You cross your ankles behind Kayce, pulling him even closer, and his hand trails along your back to firmly grip at your side. His other hand slides across the top of your thigh, and he hooks it under your knee, lifting your leg.

You scoot closer to the edge of the counter and spread your legs wider for him, and heat spreads under your skin at the feeling of his erection straining at the front of his jeans, now pressed against your mound.

Kayce’s lips slow down, pausing in their endeavor to further consume your mouth in the wildfire they’ve started. He presses another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning his forehead against yours, and you lay a hand against his chest, fingertips curling into the pocket at the front of his flannel shirt as his heart beats wildly beneath your palm; the erratic rhythm matches your own.

Breathing hard, his voice is rough when he speaks, “Sorry.”

You take one of his hands into your own, lacing your fingers together, a weak laugh escaping your lips. “That’s definitely not something you need to say sorry for.”

Reaching up, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and press your body into the warmth of his again. He groans, grasping the side of your thigh.

“Tell me what you want then,” he drawls, and fire licks in the pit of your belly as his lips ghost over yours.

“You, Kayce. It’s always been you,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.

There’s a hitch in his breath, and his hand slides up to grasp your hip, fingers skirting underneath your shirt. There’s a shift in the air between you as he huskily replies, “Wish I’d known that sooner.”

You pull away just enough to look at him, his brown eyes alight with emotion. “Well, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He chases after your lips again, and there’s urgency in the way his mouth seeks out yours in a bruising, all-consuming kiss that finds you arching your back into his scorching touch. You tighten your legs around Kayce, a whine crawling up your throat as the seam of his jeans presses firmly against the thin material of your shorts, rubbing against your hot center. You rock your hips into him, and Kayce moans, so you do it again, but harder.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

You can tell he’s holding himself back, his kisses growing sloppy as his fingers dig into your skin.

“Touch me, Kayce,” you plead.

He doesn’t hesitate, hands sliding up under your shirt, an appreciative sound leaving him when his palms make contact with your bare breasts. He licks his way into your mouth as he teases your pebbled nipples, relishing in the breathy noises you offer him in return. You reach down, shrugging off your shirt, and Kayce’s lips blaze a hot trail down the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down the center of your chest, palming your breasts in his hands while lavishing them with the wet heat of his mouth.

Nerves on fire, you reach out, fumbling with the buttons of his flannel, and he pauses to help you, tugging it off along with his black t-shirt underneath. Your hands skate across his chest, and he closes his eyes as you press a tender kiss to the brand seared into his skin before letting your lips trail toward his collarbone.

Kayce’s fingers caress the inside of your legs, climbing higher toward the apex of your thighs. He slides his hand inside the loose material of your shorts, and you bite down on his skin as he runs a finger over your clothed cunt.

“What about here?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“Please.”

Kayce hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them aside, and a groan rumbles in his chest when he swipes two digits through your dripping folds. He uses his other hand to tilt your chin, kissing you hard as he slips his middle finger into your soaked entrance.

You moan into the kiss, bucking your hips toward his touch, and he sounds more than a little wrecked as he mutters, “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”

He inserts another finger and slowly begins to pump them both in and out of you while you reach out, hands quickly working their way past his belt to free his throbbing cock from the confines of his jeans. Kayce takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down as you wrap your hand around his length and stroke it, drawing a wanton cry from your mouth as he crooks his fingers inside of you in turn.

You lift your feet up, heels resting against the lip of the countertop, and Kayce takes hold of his shaft, precum leaking from the tip. He swipes the head through your slick folds, notching it at your entrance, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he slowly begins to sink into you.

His mouth hovers over yours, both of you breathing heavily as his cock is steadily engulfed within the tight, wet heat of your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, neither of you moves for a few moments, content to revel in the feeling of the way he feels nestled deep inside of you, stretching you open.

When Kayce finally begins to shift, your body ignites with searing pleasure at the delicious drag of his cock through your narrow channel, his name falling from your lips repeatedly as he fervently kisses your neck while one hand toys with your nipples. Tension coils tighter and tighter in your gut with every thrust, your folds squelching wetly each time his cock disappears into your body. He laps a broad stroke with his tongue just underneath the hinge of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as your pussy clenches down on him.

The ache between your thighs spreads rapidly through your limbs, and you chase after Kayce’s lips for a needy, desperate kiss as you whine, “Kayce, I’m gonna—”

He grasps the side of your neck, his free hand drifting between your bodies, fingers seeking out the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

“Come for me,” he murmurs before kissing you deeply, rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

The pressure building inside of you explodes, and Kayce swallows down the strangled noises that pour out of you as you shudder, coming entirely undone with the force of your climax. He fucks you through each electric wave of pleasure, your limbs trembling as his cock continues to stroke your sensitive inner walls.

Your fingers dig into Kayce’s back while his hips begin to stutter, and he moans your name when he plunges inside of you one last time before pulling out, stroking himself as ropes of cum spill from his cock and onto the kitchen floor below.

As the last of his seed drips out, you reach out, tugging Kayce back into your arms, bringing your lips to his. You can feel him smile against your mouth, and he breaks the kiss, peppering more of them across the planes of your face.

“Will you stay tonight?” you ask him quietly, your heartbeat quickening at the uncertainty of what his answer may be.

Kayce grasps the underside of your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him again as your arms encircle his neck, and he lifts you up off of the counter.

Nose brushing against yours affectionately, he murmurs as he makes his way toward the stairs that lead to your bedroom, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» KAYCE DUTTON MASTERLIST

#Kayce Dutton

561 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 2 months

Text

Mr. Luke Grimes, everyone. <3

#luke grimes #Yellowstone #kayce dutton

128 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 2 months

Text

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #luke grimes

338 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 2 months

Text

Going Down Swingin

Kayce Dutton x Reader

Words: 4271

Summary: Tired of being holed up on the ranch, the reader begs her husband to calm his paranoid mind for one night so she can go out to the bar with some of the ranch hands. Turns out, his concerns were founded.

Notes: God I love this man. I honestly have had ideas for Kayce imagines for like a year and now I’m finally finishing them (well, at least this one). I hope to do more with him soon, so fingers crossed for my blonde cowboy husband!

Warnings: Harassment, assault, fighting, wounds-

The cage of his arms was a welcome one. It kept you safe while also reminding you of every moment that led to this one.

In this case, you were reminded of how you got into this position.

Kayce’s beard tickled the back of your neck as his lips trailed down to your shoulder and back up again. You sighed contently and nestled back into his embrace.

“Time to get up,” He mumbled.

You screwed your eyes shut and shook your head.

“Noooo,” You whined. “I’m still asleep.”

His chuckle rumbled against your back. “C’mon.”

Your husband’s hands made their way to your waist and squeezed gently. He flipped you around so you were facing him. You tangled your fingers in his long blonde hair and crashed your lips into his in hopes of dissuading him from leaving the bed. Before you could deepen the kiss anymore, he grabbed your hips tighter and pulled you back.

“Nice try, baby, but we’ve got work to do.”

“Or,” you walked your fingers up his chest. “We could lock the doors and spend the whole day-”

He cut you off with another kiss. Just when you thought you’d won, he sat up, giving you a devilish smirk. His hands latched onto the blankets.

You glowered. “Don’t you dare.”

“Hey, I gave you a chance,” he said, yanking the covers back and subjecting your bare skin to the cold morning air.

“Kayce!” You shrieked, clawing to regain the warmth, but he held them just out of reach, laughing at your demise. “Kayce John Dutton, I’m gonna kill you!”

“You’ve got to catch me first, darlin’.” He took off, taking the blankets and sheets with him.

“Navy SEAL or not, I’m still going to get you!” You shouted after him, grabbing his henley off the floor so you weren’t completely naked as you chased your childish husband around the room. Of course, he wasn’t wearing anything either which made the whole ordeal even more ridiculous.

When you did finally catch him, he’d stopped so suddenly and you were running so fast it knocked both of you to the floor, practically rolling with laughter.

“I… win…” You wheezed in between giggles, laying on top of him.

“Alright, alright.” He brushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss you, but just for a moment. “But we’ve still got to get to work.”

You bit your lip.

“What if I promise to make some time for us tonight, hmm?” He offered. “Dinner, movie, whatever you want.”

You sighed dramatically. “I suppose I can live with that.”

Kayce rolled his eyes, locked his arms around you, and stood. You squealed as he threw you over his shoulder, smacking your backside with a victorious chuckle.

Needless to say, you were definitely awake after that.

It was a long day. In a good way. One that felt like you were actually doing something. But still, every move you made ached from the day’s work. You helped out at the ranch because of your past in veterinary school. Sure, you hadn’t been in a clinic in years, but you knew your way around an injured horse enough that John liked having you around. He said it was because you didn’t cost as much. You were pretty sure he liked you more than he let on.

When you saw your husband riding up over the horizon, he didn’t look like he’d fared much better. Dirt caked his forehead, mixed with the sweat on his brow. Not that you minded.

“Hey baby,” he greeted gruffly. Kayce jumped down off his horse and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. When he pulled away, you notice the downward cast of his gaze and the look of guilt in his eyes.

“Alright,” you sighed. “You’ve got that kicked puppy look now. What is it?”

A smile cracks on his face. “I do not look like a kicked puppy.”

“Sure you do.” You tucked a lock of blonde behind his ear. “With your big eyes and your pouty face.” You hooked your arms behind his neck and pulled him closer. “Are you ready for that date night we talked about?”

The puppy look returned.

“About that, baby,” He blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

Uh oh.

“You’ve gotta work,” you concluded.

“My dad’s asking me to run to Billing’s to take care of some things-”

You held up a hand to stop him. When it came to John Dutton, you didn’t want any details.

“It’s okay. We can make plans for a different night.” You pulled him into a kiss, smirking against his lips. “But you’ll definitely have to come up with something big and romantic and groveling.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “You know I’d pick a night with you over anything, but I don’t think fighting him on this would be a good idea. It’s business and you know how he gets.”

“It’s fine, Kayce, really. I’m sure I’ll find something else to do.”

As if summoned, Ryan and Colby mosied over to the two of you. While Kayce wasn’t close with any of the boys from the bunkhouse, you’d gotten to know them from working on the horses. So even though Kayce tensed protectively, you gave them a bright grin.

“What do you two fuckers want?” You asked.

“We’re going out,” Colby said. “Celebrating Ryan’s birthday if you want to come.” He eyed your husband nervously. “Both of you.”

“We just saw you over here and thought, maybe you’d want to join, but it’s totally fine-” Ryan started to ramble.

You weren’t sure if it was their usual awkwardness or if the boss’s son just made them nervous, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Kace can’t, but I could use a night out,” you beamed.

Kayce’s arms tightened around you and his puppy-dog eyes turned intense.

Sensing the change, Ryan and Colby took a step back.

“Cool,” Ryan said. “Meet up in ten.”

The two hurried off and you turned to fierce brown eyes.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kayce said.

“I wasn’t exactly asking for your permission, honey,” you scoffed. “Besides, like I said, I could use a night out. I can’t even remember the last time I really got away from the ranch for some fun.”

He turned away, jaw tensed, and eyes following the group of men heading back toward the bunkhouse.

“I don’t think any of the ranch hands are stupid enough to hit on me if that’s what you’re worried about,” you teased, trying to lighten his mood.

“It’s not that.” He shook his head, gaze returning to yours. “And it’s not that I don’t trust you, so don’t start thinking that. It’s just… the places these guys go to. Nothing good ever happens.”

“Baby, I think you’re the last person to worry about me getting into trouble. Or anybody, for that matter.”

It was true. You’d married a trouble magnet. Hell, maybe it’s even safer to go to the bar without him, but he definitely did not look in the mood for you to point that out.

“I won’t go if you really don’t want me to,” you said. “I’ll just sit at home…. All alone…. Bored.” You sighed dramatically.

Kayce huffed and kissed your forehead. “Just keep your phone on, okay?”

“Don’t worry. You will always be my phone call if I get arrested.” You gave him a mischievous grin and started off to join the others.

“That’s not funny!” He called after you, chuckling at your excitement and hoping that he wouldn’t regret this.

The neon lights bathed your skin in a blue and pink glow. Music blared from the band on the stage and your throat burned pleasantly from the liquor at your lips. You could feel the tension melting off of you from the long, hard day, realizing how much you needed this. It wasn’t that you didn’t like being at the ranch, but sometimes the vastness somehow felt so small. And knowing how much it hurt Kayce to be there, the nightmares you knew he’d had, made you wonder if it was worth it.

“You look like you could use another,” a voice said over the music.

“Hey, Rip.” You turned to face the dark-haired cowboy with a small smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “every once in a while I let them drag me out to these things.” He ordered himself another beer and you another whiskey. “Not used to seeing you without tall blonde trouble on your arm.”

“Looks like I’m causing enough trouble on my own tonight,” you smirked back. “He’s working.”

Rip nodded, running a hand over his chin. “And he let you come here?”

“He didn’t let me do anything.” You took a drink. “He wasn’t particularly happy about it, but he knows better than to try and tell me what to do.”

“If it were me,” Rip chuckled, “I would have locked you up at home. You’re too nice for a place like this.”

“You rough and tumble cowboys don’t scare me,” you smiled. “I married one, remember?”

“You married one of the good ones.”

“Cheers to that.” You clinked your glass against his and he smiled, still shaking his head as he walked to the other end of the bar to keep an eye on things.

His seat was not empty for long.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ‘round here before.” A muscular arm dressed in a ratty old t-shirt blocked your view of the dance floor and the body attached to it loomed over you like you were a meal. It was a feeling that you were unfortunately familiar with, having grown up around bars like these and, more specifically, their patrons.

“That’s because I haven’t been here,” you said, keeping your voice calm, but cold. The red-haired man beside you did not get the hint. He leaned even closer and you could smell the mix of tobacco and too much beer on his breath as he swayed drunkenly in the seat.

“Well isn’t it my lucky day then?”

You held up your hand, flashing him the wedding ring on your finger.

“Not so much, buddy.” You downed the rest of your drink. “But I’m sure there’s plenty of single women dying to give you a handjob in the bathroom,” you snarked, signaling for the bartender to get you another.

“What if I want you?” He leered.

What started out as annoyance was turning into anger.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” You stood up in order to get away from his ever-leaning frame. “I’m married, dipshit.”

The drunkard shrugged. “I don’t see anybody here?”

Oh but if Kayce were here…

You could handle yourself without him.

“Why don’t you just back off before that tiny dick of yours gets you into something your tinier brain can’t deal with.”

You turned to walk away.

He grabbed your wrist, twisting it back until it stung.

“What did you say to me you fucking bitch?”

When your fist collided with his chin, it was just the beginning.

Hands grabbed your arms, giving him a clear hit to your stomach which you took with a grunt. You yanked yourself free and found two more men encircling you. Apparently, this shitstain wasn’t alone and all of them were drunk enough to not care that you were half their size and a woman. So much for chivalry.

“Three men versus little old me,” you scoffed. “That hardly seems fair.”

But you weren’t alone either.

Ryan broke through the crowd first, punching the man to your right square between the eyes. Colby was next, fighting some others who’d joined in for the hell of it. You stayed focused on your original creep.

“By the time we’re done, you’re going to be begging me to fuck you into tomorrow,” he sneered.

You responded with another hit to his mouth, feeling a couple of teeth crack against your knuckles.

He swung. You dodged. He picked up a bottle and crashed it against your shoulder, still too drunk to actually aim. You stomped on his foot. He grabbed you by the hair.

Somewhere, a gun went off and everybody screamed.

Red-haired Romeo, however, didn’t seem to care.

By the time Rip had made it over to you, you were being thrown across the bar. You felt the sticky, slick surface slide past your leg before you collided with the back shelves, and dozens of bottles shattered into your back. Your head slammed into the counter as you fell to the whiskey-soaked floor.

Everything was black after that.

You got little bits, here and there, trying to force yourself awake, but never able to fight back the darkness.

Rip and Ryan carrying you with your arms over their shoulders, Rip cursing the whole way to the house.

“Her husband is going to have somebody’s hide and it sure as hell isn’t going to be mine.”

A flash of strawberry blonde and the smell of cigarette smoke.

Ryan’s worried eyes as Rip dragged him away.

It was until the alcohol-dipped rag touched your cuts that you were fully awake. You grimaced, the sharp sting shooting up your back. You gripped the arm of the couch, face down in a pillow.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Beth snarked. “It’d be a shame to miss this fun.” She pulled a piece of glass out of your side and you clenched your jaw. “That looks like it hurts.”

“Is there still bourbon down here?” You asked.

She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s what got you into this mess, sweetheart. And when my brother makes a list tonight, I’m not putting myself on it.”

She plucked another shard. It seemed every muscle in your back spasmed with every move she made, taking out class and swiping at the blood pooling on your skin. Not to mention the pounding in your head, hair matted with gore. You were grateful it was her, though. At least she’d get it done quick, without any pitying or panic.

Meanwhile, outside was an almost as pitiful sight. Rip leaned against the barn, glaring down the other men who nursed their injuries. Ryan’s eye was already starting to swell and Colby rubbed his aching jaw. Even Lloyd looked worse for wear.

“You’re lucky I don’t fire every one of you,” Rip glowered.

“In our defense, we were trying to stop the fight,” Ryan said, but quickly regretted it.

Rip stepped toward him. “You want another black eye?”

All eyes, however, glanced behind Rip, a pair of headlights growing nearer and nearer.

“Oh shit,” Colby muttered. “I thought he was going to Billings.”

Rip ran a hand down his face, trying to contain his frustration. Could anything else go wrong?

“Apparently not.”

Kayce got out of the truck.

At first, he thought they’d cut the party short and came back to the ranch, but as he got closer, he saw the specks of blood on their shirts and the color of forming bruises.

“What the hell happened?”

Rip sighed. “What does it look like?”

Kayce’s burning gaze turned to him, the question going unsaid, but very much present in his eyes. Rip held up a hand, keeping his voice level to not poke the bear any further.

“She’s inside. Beth’s with her.”

Kayce didn’t waste any more time, dark eyes flashing as he whipped around, sprinting up to the house.

“Y/N!” He screamed. “Y/N!”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Do you want to wake up all of Montana? We’re in here.”

A door opened upstairs. John was awake.

“What’s going on?”

You buried your face in the pillow.

Oh. God.

Kayce stormed into the living room at the same time his father appeared in the loft.

“I’m sorry for getting blood on your couch,” you said, gritting your teeth as Beth cleaned another gaping cut. Your bare chest stuck to the leather uncomfortably as you shifted to get a look at your father-in-law, avoiding your husband in the doorway.

“Is she going to be okay?” John called down.

“She won’t be able to lie on her back for a while.” Beth looked up at your panicked husband with a smirk. “But hey, save a horse, ride a cowboy, right?”

“Beth,” you groaned.

Kayce’s expression darkened.

Beth placed the rag back in the bowl and stood. “That’s my cue.” She waved up at John. “Just another day in the Dutton house, daddy.”

John sighed, muttering as he went back down the hall. “I don’t want to know.”

Kayce was at your side in seconds, dark eyes widening at the sight of your bloodied back and bruised face. Guilt and worry took over his features. It was worse than he thought. There were still a few shards of glass stuck in your flesh and some of the cuts looked like they went pretty deep. Your shoulder was a web of scratches with a bloody point of impact in the middle. The back and side of your head were covered with that dreaded red, more glass stuck in your hair.

You tried to crack a smile.

“You should see the other guy.”

“Baby…” he breathed shakily, a trembling hand against your cheek. “What happened?” Before you could answer, another, angrier question boiled in his chest. “Who did this to you?”

“I don’t know.”

He opened his mouth, but you stopped him.

“I’m serious. I didn’t exactly ask for contact information when I was swinging at him.”

Kayce nodded, body rigid with rage as he picked up the rag and started tending to your wounds with a much gentler hand than his sister’s.

“So a man attacked you?” His voice was calm which made you even more nervous. He only sounded like that when he wanted to kill something. Or someone.

“Well, I wasn’t tossed over a bar by Montana Barbie,” you snarked.

Your humor hid your humiliation but only made his frustration worse. His hand tensed roughly against your skin. You bit your lip to keep from wincing.

“Sorry,” he muttered. Keeping his movements slow and soft, he got the rest of the glass out and cleaned up most of the blood, though some of the cuts would definitely need stitches.

“And technically, no,” you said. “I started the fight. He was just annoying.”

You tried to push yourself up, crying out at the pain in your shoulder. Kayce gently urged you back down, repositioning the pillow so you could look at him more comfortably.

“It doesn’t matter,” he growled. “Anybody who does this to you-”

“Have probably already been punished by Rip.” You used your strength to reach a hand to tuck his blonde hair behind his ear. “I’m okay, Kace.”

He motioned to the liquor store sliced into your back. “Not from where I’m sitting, sweetheart. You know, one of those bottles could have paralyzed you, or-or severed an artery. You would have bled out on a dirty bar floor and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.”

His voice cracked and you finally let your cocky facade fall.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you cried. “But you can’t protect me forever. I can handle myself.”

“Tonight’s not real good proof of that,” he said, a small smile teasing his lips. “Only you could get into this much trouble going out for drinks.”

“Hypocrite.”

He started bandaging you up as best he could to get you ready to go to the hospital.

“I don’t need to go anywhere,” you protested as he helped you up.

“You just had your head smashed against I don’t want to know how many surfaces. Rip said you were out for a couple of hours, now we should have had you at the hospital sooner,” Kayce said. “I’m not messin’ around.”

Sure enough, when you did see the doctor, they confirmed that you had a concussion. A bad one. Enough to make them want to keep you overnight to observe, as well as stitch up your back. When they asked what happened, you told them you fell.

“You… fell…” The doctor eyed you, then looked at Kayce.

You grabbed the woman’s arm, directing her suspicious gaze back at you. The last thing Kayce needed was somebody getting the wrong idea and thinking this was his fault.

“Through a glass table, from which I might have died if my husband hadn’t come home early so you keep your focus on me, okay?” You snapped.

Kayce chuckled. “Easy, baby. We’re not being interrogated.”

“I’m responsible for what happened. I don’t want her thinking anything different,” you said. “Tonight was my fault.”

“No,” he sighed. “It wasn’t.”

He should have been there. He didn’t drink, so he would have been able to see those creeps coming a mile off. Better yet, he should have stayed home, stayed with you like he said he was going to. Then none of this wouldn’t have happened.

“Hey,” you said, taking his hand. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You gave him a knowing smile. “You don’t have to.”

He brought your hand up to his lips and held it for the rest of the night.

Three Weeks Later

The wind whistled around you and for the first time in almost a month, you felt like you could really breathe. Adjusting the reins in your hand, your golden-brown quarter horse turned, facing you back toward the ranch, miles, and miles of beautiful country all around you. In the distance, you saw a dark hat appear out of the stables and heard your name echo across the field.

You pet your horse's neck, laughing. “I think we’re in trouble.”

With the sunset overhead, you rode back, your husband’s disapproving frown becoming clearer and clearer.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked. You dismounted and led your horse to the barn. “You just got cleared by the doctor. Are you trying to get another concussion?”

“I know how to ride a horse without falling off, baby.” You kissed him as you went by. “Besides, it’s therapeutic. See, I feel better already.”

Kayce watched you go by, eyes lingering on your back, imagining the angry red scabs and scratches that crisscrossed your skin. He thought about how you tried not to wince when he touched you or that you’d have to lean on him after standing, too dizzy to see straight.

He should have been there.

“Morning, Rip,” you said, seeing the mountain of a man in the other doorway. He tilted his hat at you in greeting, glancing over at your husband for a moment before carrying on by. Something you’d watched that morning clicked in your mind. “I actually wanted to talk to the two of you about something.”

Rip halted and turned around.

“I saw on the news this morning that they found the remains of three hikers in the park last night,” you said, suspicious eyes switching between the two of them. “Three men. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Kayce’s brows furrowed. Rip’s expression didn’t change. You put your hands on your hips and narrowed your eyes.

“Because I can fight my own fights. I don’t need either of you getting yourselves into trouble.” You shot your husband a look that said ‘especially you.’ It seemed like trouble was both of your middle names sometimes.

But he just shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.” Kayce turned to the other cowboy. “Rip?”

A silence fell over the barn, heavy with tension and an unspoken truth.

“It’s the first I’m hearing of it,” Rip said, cool blue eyes watching you. “They probably poked a bear they shouldn’t have.” With that, he left the two of you, and Kayce couldn’t help but feel grateful. As much as he would have wanted to deal with them himself, he was glad those bastards got what they deserved.

You unstrapped the saddle and started to lift it off.

“I got it,” Kayce said, grabbing the heavy leather for you and the two of you finished putting everything away. But that heavy silence was still there.

Your hand slipped into his, tugging slightly to make him look at you.

“Kayce,” you started softly, those big brown eyes making you melt just like they always did, but in them, you could see the guilt he’d been carrying for the past three weeks. “What happened was not your fault. It just… happened.” You laid a hand on his cheek. “Even you can’t stop the world from happening. And you can’t stop some men from being drunk bastards who can’t throw a decent punch.”

His fingers traced the forming scars on your shoulder. “I can try,” he whispered.

You brought his gaze back to yours and pulled him in for a kiss that said everything you both needed it to. When you pulled away, you smiled teasingly.

“So enough of the puppy look.”

Kayce rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

“I’m serious!” You giggled. “It’s time to, I don’t know, have a little fun again. I’m not going to break.”

Ever the fighter, he thought, bringing you in for another kiss.

You tugged on his hand again, leading him out of the barn. The first stars were making their appearance over the incredible landscape you called home.

“Besides,” you said, leading him back toward the house. “You still owe me a date night.”

Kayce chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist with a smirk that matched your own.

“Yes ma’am.”

#kayce dutton x reader #yellowstone #kayce dutton #rip wheeler

988 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 2 months

Note

a whiskey with jax teller pleaseeee just him being a little shit during a hot sex bc hes jax ofc theres so little writing about him and yours is fuckin phenomenal <33

Relentless.

warnings - smut. cursing. jax and his filthy mouth.

you're so lovely - thank you!! this man's middle name is mischief. I just know he'd be a fuckin menace in bed.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Shhh darlin'. You don't want them to hear, do you?"

You wish he'd thought about that before he'd linked his fingers with yours and led you through the clubhouse, whispering something about having to have you now.

"This was- fuck- your idea, Jax," you pant, gripping the sheets beneath you.

He's got you practically folded in half, his body cloaking yours, weight pressing you down. He keeps tilting your chin up to look at him, slapping your cheek gently when you close your eyes. He wants to be your sole focus.

Little does he know, he always is.

"Oh, come on. Like you didn't want it as bad as I did."

He has this tone, when he's fucking you. It's low and it's menacing and it's rough around the edges. It's lethal.

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust of his hips, a surprised moan leaving your lips before you can stop it.

"You wanna get us caught? Huh?"

He thinks he feels you tighten around him, so he tests his theory.

"Or maybe that is what you want. I see the way you look at Chibs, honey. Do you want him to hear? Come and see what all the noise is about? Join in, maybe?"

You clench down, back arching at his dirty stream of thoughts. He chuckles, getting the exact reaction he wanted.

"Filthy fuckin' girl. You want your president and your vice president to fuck you together? At the same time? Talk about club bonding, huh?"

Jax grips your chin in between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His hips never cease their relentless rhythm, stars floating in your vision. You open your mouth, and he spits right into it, winking when you swallow.

His other hand moves to your throat, gripping lightly. The man knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Come on, baby. I wanna hear them, all the dirty little fantasies in that pretty little head of yours. Or maybe it's not Chibs? Who is it then, hmm? Juice? Happy?"

You choke out a whine, and he laughs, dark and mischievous.

"Fuck, you're squeezin' me so tight. It's one of them, isn't it? Which one, honey?"

You shake your head, tears forming at your lash line.

"Oh, I know. How about all of them? All four of us, passing you around, taking turns. How's that sound? Is that what you want, dirty girl?"

The thought sends you right over the edge, gasping for air as the heat licks up your spine. Your end is Jax's too, the low groan he releases vibrating both of your bones. He collapses on top of you, the two of you panting.

"You're relentless," you laugh, catching your breath.

"It's one of the reasons you love me so much," he chuckles, kissing you softly. "That, and the fact I have hot brothers."

"You're right about one of those things," you tease, squealing when he pinches your sides.

A knock on the door startles you both.

"Jackie boy, we have some business we need to attend to. That is, if you're not... preoccupied."

The familiar Scottish accent sends heat rushing to your skin. Jax notices.

"Be there in a minute, VP!"

You hear Chibs' footsteps as he leaves, breathing a sigh of relief.

"So it was Chibs, huh?"

"Like I said," you chide jokingly, smacking him on the shoulder. "Fucking relentless."

#jax teller

1K notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 3 months

Text

@notallthatglittersisgoldx >83

The chokehold that Kanata Hongo/Hiei have on me is so, so good.

I thought Kanata was the perfect Hiei, from the attitude, the down head/up eyes looks he gave to the way he personified himself into Hiei.

#Hiei #Kanata Hongo

61 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 3 months

Note

Do you think Bucky would be possessive if you aren't his girl?

Nonnie, I think you forgot a word at the end of your question.

YET.

You aren't his girl yet.

But imagine Bucky is sitting at a table and a few agents are sitting there as well. He tries to block out the chatter, until one of them mentions your name. Followed by his.

"Barnes, you hitting that?"

Which would have him seeing red. Because he wants to fuck you, yes. He also wants to give you the care you deserve. He wants you to be his completely.

"If you're asking if she's my girl," he says as calmly as he can manage, "No."

"So, I have a chance," the agent smirks.

That look is quickly wiped away when Bucky takes a knife out of what appears to be thin air and drives it through the table as the chatter ceases. The blade is right between the agent's fingers. Miraculously, he didn't get cut.

The former Asset is that good.

"You didn't let me finish. She's not my girl yet. So, no, you don't have a chance."

But the question is, did you happen to walk in and witness the event or did word get around?

Love and thanks! ❤️

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

2K notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 4 months

Photo

@notallthatglittersisgoldx Your silver fox needs to not talk to Fahz like this xD

Forget test fires. We need an actual target. Uh, if we’re selecting targets, shouldn’t someone with real military authority be here?

#marcus fenix #fahz chutani

406 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 4 months

Text

Yum, baby, yum

Making out headcanons written in a not-so-headcanon format.

General verses /18+ / Ninja guys are in their mid to late twenties /NSFWish / MDNI

Donatello methodically builds up the heat as if it's a playful game for him. He kisses your shoulders, nibbles your neck, straddles you down, holding your body so close to him that you're sure he can feel every curve. He loves it when the heat of the kisses rises so much that you can't help but moan against his mouth. You're so cute for him. Hmm, more.

Leo moans into your mouth while keeping you straddled on his lap, shamelessly enjoying the friction of your crotch humping over his as his hands grope your ass. Sharing the same breath with you like this is otherworldly. Damn, you're so hot, so soft. He could keep it up for as long as time allows.

Raphael adores it when you’re the one who initiates the touching, gently stroking his head, pulling his bandana, craving the tiniest bit of attention. You're so needy for him, ain'tcha? Lovely. You sensually perch in his lap, and he groans when you grin over his hard, growing bulge. His kiss is wet and always deep, savoring your mouth like it’s the last thing he's gonna taste. You're so fucking delicious.

Mikey is obsessed with your little sighs and moans to the point where he takes pleasure in just listening to you. Prefers to lay down so that he can properly embrace you tightly against him, not leaving a scrap of space between your bodies. He sucks on your lips, nibbling at them, groping your body like he's been starving for it. And you let him handle you all he likes, like a little pretty doll, all for him, all the time, yum.

#tmnt #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael

2K notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 4 months

Text

#hiei #kurama

259 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 4 months

Text

we deserve longer scenes of shuichi minamino wearing this uniform

#yu yu hakusho #shuichi minamino #kurama

236 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 5 months

Text

@notallthatglittersisgoldx I feel called out xD

“i can change him” bitch why, he’s the perfect menace to society and i love him for that.

#my twin

280 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 5 months

Text

@notallthatglittersisgoldx see, silver fox, not too bad for 63 >83333

Originally Written: September 7th, 2019

Rewritten/Reposted: April 12th, 2022

A/N: Mature language warning. Gears 5 gif but it's a Gears 4 fic as it was meant as Gears 5 hype at the time.

Like A Father

Older! Marcus x Female! Reader Short (Gears 4, Platonic)

Summary: Marcus notices you've burned yourself during a Swarm clean up mission. Perhaps it's time for some first-aid?

"Holy shit that stings...!" You hiss, touching your burn softly. You had gotten into a fight with a swarm variant called a 'Carrier'. Upon its death, swarm gunk had splattered over you, burning your skin.

"Let me check that for you." Marcus hums, walking towards you. You flinch when Marcus touched your burn lightly. "JD, do you have that medical supplies I told you to bring?"

JD, your best friend and companion, nodded at his father's words before digging around for something. Moments later JD came back holding a white lockbox. Marcus kept you company as JD got the box open.

"Thanks." Marcus simply replied before he got some burn lotion out of the box. You stared at the bottle with hesitation, you remembered how much that stuff stings. Marcus seemed to notice your discomfort and tried to reassure you.

"It may sting a little, but I promise it won't be for long. It's just to help it heal." Marcus patted your back before applying the lotion.

You sucked in air through your teeth once the lotion caused your burn to feel inflamed. Marcus helped you the whole time, JD also sitting by you to make sure everything was okay.

Once the burning settled down, Marcus wrapped it in a gauze bandage. You look up at Marcus and give a thankful smile. In return, you thought you saw a small smile from the old man.

"Thanks, Marcus. You know, hanging out with you and JD is like being part of your family. You always seem to care for JD and me during, well, anything. I wish I could repay you." You say genuinely. Marcus snorts slightly.

"One way you could repay me is helping getting rid of the rest of the swarm in this area." Marcus suggested. You laughed, picking up your lancer.

"I was going to do that anyway, but of course!" You joked while you and JD ran ahead, starting to clear the area.

#gears of war x reader #my twin

29 notes · View notes

grynas-zeme · 5 months

Text

Because I wanted to rewrite my old Gears fics, also aliens are cool:

Original fic written: July 8th, 2018

Rewritten: April 12th, 2022

Slight content warning: Contains some Mature Language, Murder, Violence, and Kidnapping.

Pyromaniac

Flame Grenadier x Citizen! Female! Reader

Summary: Your village was attacked by the Locust Horde. Deciding to fight back, you grab a weapon and try to survive. Turns out, you may have caught the eyes of a certain locust variant.

Fear. Complete fear. Everyone in your village felt that. Including you, a civilian with no armor in sight to protect you from bullet sprays. The COG soldiers were supposed to be arriving but so far there were no sign of them. It felt horrible to watch your home burn. Luckily, your family was in a different part of Sera.

You just hoped they were better off than you.

Your only form of defense you had was a sawed-off shotgun. The horde decided to attack your home in the middle of the night, catching many others by surprise. Sadly, many had died and there was only a few people in the town now. You wished the COG had come quicker.

You hid yourself behind a building at the sound of locust. Slowly you peeked around the corner to see two locust speaking to one another. Gripping your weapon tightly, you decided now was the best time to fight back.

Dashing in with as much speed as you could muster you blow a shot through one of the locust before ducking into cover. Clumsily you tried to reload your weapon, not used to the gun. A searing pain then rips through your shoulder due to a bullet.

Softly you aim the gun again to take out the last locust that had shot you.

"That's what you get you filthy-" Before you could finish your sentence, a bullet whizzed past your head. A locust sniper had been hiding on one of the rooftops.

Heart pumping fast, you duck behind some rubble. Looking over your cover to see the sniper get kicked down from his post. Strangely, by another locust.

"What the...?" You mutter to yourself. Once the sniper had been knocked down, the attacking locust had activated a Scorcher upon the now defenseless sniper. You barely had time to question what you saw before the flame-wielding locust spotted you and made his way over.

"Shit, Shit, Shit!" You panic, feeling as though you'll faint before diving into another broken down building. You wished you never saw the locust or just stayed hidden. Now you had to try and fight against fire with little to no protection.

Luckily you found a Snub pistol from one of the dead locust. It was enough to keep you ranged compared to your previous weapon. Once hidden behind the concrete walls of a house, you peeked through a window. The locust was nowhere in sight....

Until you screeched when scale like skin scratched against your softer skin. Turning, you were greeted with a locust claw digging into your shoulder.

You were soon face to face with a bronze metal mask that had a slit to see through and the Locust Horde symbol on the forehead.

"P-Please don't kill me...!" You begged. Your voice was soft and barely a whisper. Everything you did felt pitiful and futile against this creature....

There was no response...only the masked creature grabbing you tighter. Almost as if it was trying to show comfort in an embrace. Which was concerning as you thought all of the locust hated humans due to their queen's xenophobic views.

The Scorcher the beast wielded was set aside, but away from you. You were unable to get to it due to the bone crushing grip the beast had. You could only focus on the clouded yellow eyes staring at you from the mask's slit.

The moment of relief was then cut short when hand cuffs, or something that resembled them, were taken out of the beast's armor. You tried to struggle but the locust held you still. It clipped the restraints to your wrists before backing off, holding chains that were meant to guide you.

You were now officially a prisoner.

"Ground Walker... follow...."

You had no choice. The beast in front of you had the most control here. But you wanted to know the motive for keeping you, at least.

"Why...? What do you want from me!?" You cry softly, the locust looking at you before attempting to comfort you.

"Must not hurt... want to protect-" The locust's fluency in your language was butchered at best, but you understood. It didn't want you hurt? Was that why it attacked the sniper trying to kill you?

The locust didn't really explain before dragging you, picking up the Scorcher and continuing on.

Soon you were loaded on what looked like a living air boat, utilizing a creature to fly. You were sat on a seat before the large locust sat by you. You stare down hopelessly at your restraints. Fatigue soon hits and you feel yourself grow tired.

Once sleep threatens to hit you, you slump over and lay your head on your captor. The masked beast pauses before looking over. While you rest, you were vaguely aware of the beast lightly touching your soft skin as you slept.

Struggling had taken the energy out of you. At this point you found minimal comfort from the creature's touch, pushing closer.

You weren't sure what was being planned for you, but you could only trust the locust who chose you over his own kind.

What other choice did you have?

"Night... ground walker...."

#gears of war x reader #locust x reader

129 notes · View notes