John Dutton with wife reader. Him being in such a mood that even his children start to tease him and her joining in. Anything at all. Fluff/suggestive. Up to you. Thanks!! :))
With prompts; "Are you really this happy 24/7?"
"Are you really this grumpy 24/7?"
"Are you really this happy 24/7?"
Tags [ @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @pear-1206
Exiting through the front door I joined my husband on the old wooden porch swing that overlooked the main part of the property we called our home. He moved one of his arms and laid it back down over my shoulder once I had taken my spot right by his side.
The sounds of nature were the only things we could hear for once. There weren't any of his adult kids running to complain about something or him having to rush off to fight someone who wanted to take the land from us.
I thought we could live in this peaceful moment forever- unfortunately that isn’t the case when it comes to Beth Dutton.
Her car quickly came down the gravel and dust driveway where she parked at the end of the steps. She slammed her car door walking up to the porch seeing me and her father sitting on the swing. “Are you really this happy 24/7?" She bluntly asked the two of us.
I began choking on the coffee I was drinking from one of the kitchen mugs, not expecting that to come from her mouth. “What! Why would you ask that?”
“Beth, I’m allowed to be happy with another woman.” Her father John remarked back at his only daughter.
His only daughter wasn’t exactly happy when he had brought me to the ranch a couple of times for our dates. And she especially wasn’t happy when we had gotten married a year later. I knew why though, it was because I wasn’t her mother. To her I was he step-mother.
We had done our best to be nice to one another but apparently she hadn’t fully accepted that her father could be happy with another woman just yet and we’ve been married for almost five years now.
Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, daddy. I mean you can’t really be happy all the time with her.”
“Beth!” John grumbled running a frustrated hand down his face.
I held my coffee mug in both hands, nudging my husband with my elbow in a joking manner. “Oh come on, John. You don’t have to fake being happy with me.”
“Y/n, I’m not faking it.” John shifted on his side of the porch swing so that he was directly facing me.
I tilted my head to the side knowing I could tease him for a little longer before he would figure out that I was entirely joking with the love of my life. “Are you sure? I mean I doubt I’m anything like Evelyn was in bed.”
“My mom popped out four kids in total. How many kids do you want to give birth to Y/n?” Beth asked, flipping her hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to get you someone better.”
John rolled his eyes, sitting his coffee mug down on the side table with frustration in his tone. “Beth, that's too far. Okay. I’m married to Y/n and you’re just going to have to accept it.”
“It’s going to happen, daddy.” She smirked in my direction.
Leaning back in the porch swing I almost couldn’t contain my laughter. “Oh god.”
“This whole man-to-man shit thing we got going is becoming a little ridiculous.” John shook his head wishing this would end.
His daughter spun on her heels walking up to the front door. “I’m on it.”
“Beth!”
She called back. “I got it.”
“Beth!” Her father shouted at her.
She shut the front door and hollering beforehand. “I’m totally on it!”
Once we were back alone together on the front porch I touched the side of his face making him look me in the eye. “Honey, I was just joking when I said I don’t enjoy being married to you.”
“But you said-“
I cut him chuckling lightly. “It was a lie, John. I was just trying to make your daughter happy. The only way I think she will like me is when she sees me start agreeing with her on some things.”
“Thank god.” He sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders in relief.
Resting one hand against the side of his face I felt him lean into my palm. “I can’t imagine being married to anyone else but you.”
“I didn’t realize that I was missing having a woman in my life until I saw your truck break down on the side of the road that morning.” He recalled causing a smile to grace my lips at the memory.
When I had gotten a flat tire on my truck right outside the Dutton fence line I thought I would have to call someone to tow me to a shop which would take hours until I saw a man around my age rode up to the fence on a horse wearing a white cowboy hat.
Leaning forward I kissed him slowly, moving my other hand behind his neck making the gentle kiss deeper until he broke it suggesting a common morning routine for us. “How do you feel about going for a ride?”
“Have you not met me? I would love nothing more.” Getting up from the swing I finished the last of my coffee, rushing towards the wooden stairs heading straight to the barn walking backward. Yelling with my hands cupped around my mouth. “Meet me at the barn. I’ll saddle the horses, just don’t forget my hat.”
John groaned getting to his feet, calling back. “You’re hat. I remember the white hat belonging to me when we met.”
“What’s mine is yours, honey!” I laughed with a cheerful grin.
He shook his head going to grab what we needed to ride our horses, truly treasuring the joy he felt once falling in love with you. “I love her. Let’s go to work.” It would take time for Beth to accept her father could be happy with someone else than her mother, but he wasn’t going to not live his life simply waiting for her approval.
As of Yellowstone Season 5 Episode 9 "Desire Is All You Need" all of the 5th generations of the Dutton's have died.
--------------------
JOHN DUTTON III
Yellowstone (flashbacks as well)
・Husband to Evelyn Dutton
・Father to Lee Dutton, Jamie Michael Randall Dutton (adopted) (Christina), Beth Dutton (Rip Wheeler), Kayce Dutton (Monica Long Dutton)
・Grandfather to Jamie Dutton Jr. (unconfirmed child of Jamie Michael Randall Dutton), Carter (taken in), Tate Dutton and John Dutton IV
・Son to John Dutton II and Unnamed Wife/Mother
At this time, it is unknown who John Dutton III's Grandfather is, but it is a tossup between Spencer Dutton (Alexandra Dutton) and Jack Dutton (Elizabeth Strafford Dutton).
April 27, 1959 - 2020 (61)
Assassinated in his sleep (Yellowstone season 5, episode 9 "Desire Is All You Need") by a group of men hired by Sarah Atwood. Who was helping Jamie Dutton with his professional career and helping Marquet Equities get their land by ordering the hit.
Side Note: Sara in Yellowstone season 5, episode 9 "Desire Is All You Need" said John Dutton III was 68 but that doesn't match his birthdate and death date which would make him 61. Seems this may need to be remanded or clarified.
--------------------
EVELYN DUTTON
Yellowstone (flashbacks and mentions only)
・Wife to John Dutton III
・Mother to Lee Dutton, Jamie Michael Randall Dutton (Christina), Beth Dutton (Rip Wheeler), Kayce Dutton (Monica Long Dutton)
・Grandmother to Jamie Dutton Jr., Carter, Tate Dutton and John Dutton IV
・Daughter-in-law to John Dutton II and Unnamed Wife/Mother
At this time, it is unknown who John Dutton III's Grandfather is, but it is a tossup between Spencer Dutton (Alexandra Dutton) and Jack Dutton (Elizabeth Strafford Dutton).
1960 - June 3, 1997 (37)
Thrown from her horse and crushed after it was spooked by her daughter Beth's horse. Most likely her back was broken with internal injuries and she died before Beth could find help to get back to her. (Yellowstone Season 1, Episode 3 "No Good Horses")
--------------------
PETER DUTTON
(mentioned only)
Yellowstone (mentioned only)
・Son to John Dutton II and Unnamed Wife/Mother
・Brother to John Dutton III (Evelyn Dutton)
・Uncle to Lee Dutton, Jamie Michael Randall Dutton (Christina), Beth Dutton (Rip Wheeler), Kayce Dutton (Monica Long Dutton)
・Great Uncle to Jamie Dutton Jr, Carter, Tate Dutton and John Dutton IV
At this time, it is unknown who John Dutton III's Grandfather is, but it is a tossup between Spencer Dutton (Alexandra Dutton) and Jack Dutton (Elizabeth Strafford Dutton).
???? - ???? (18 hours old)
Died 18 hours after birth due to a heart defect. (Yellowstone Season 5, Episode 1 "One Hundred Years Is Nothing")
--------------------
GARRET RANDALL
Yellowstone
・Biological Father to Jamie Michael Randall Dutton
1948 - 2019 (71)
Shot in the side of the head by his own biological son Jamie. (Yellowstone Season 4, Episode 10 "Grass on the Streets and Weeds on the Rooftops")
--------------------
PHYLLIS RANDALL
(mentioned only)
Yellowstone (mentioned only)
・Biological Mother to Jamie Michael Randall Dutton
???? - ????
Beaten to death by her husband and Jamie Dutton's biological Father for persistent drug and alcohol use through prostitution. (Yellowstone Season 3, Episode 9 "Mean Than Evil")
Request from houndswife on Wattpad. What would happen if Evelyn survived her accident. How would her life with John and the kids be different.
A huge thank you to everyone who's sent in request either on here or on Wattpad.
John's POV
Slowly opening my eyes a grin so big I'm suprised my face could manage it. Laying beside me in my bed is my amazing Evelyn, my loving wife. Her hair tousled everywhere as her eyes flutter open. "Morning my darlin'." I yawned brushing a hand through her hair. She scoots over under the covers leaning up and kissing me. I immediately kissed back remembering that every day I have with her is even more of a gift than before her accident with the horse. I'll remember that terrifilying day for years to come. Beth came sobbing to me about her mother and Kayce stayed with her in the field until I found her.
"You're thinking about that day again aren't you?" She spoke slowly her head lays on my chest as I stare out our bedroom window. "It's hard not to my dear. I thought I'd lost you." She lifts up climbing from the bed making me sit up watching her every move. "What are you doing Eve?" Once she's dressed she throws my clothes at me, putting her cowgirl hat on her head. "We shouldn't waste our day laying in bed. Let's go take a ride together." Throwing on my clothes she was already heading for the barn. The front door opens for Kayce to run pulling Beth outside who shivered seeing her mother climbing on another horse. "Sweetheart it's okay. I'll be with her this time. I won't let anything happen to her." I bend down on a knee trying to calm her down.
Evelyn has been teaching Beth all sorts of things but even she can still see fear in her children's eyes. Jamie has been gone for a few years now at college to become a lawyer to help this family. Lee's been learning how to lead the ranch from me. Kayce and Beth took quite a scare more than the rest of us did at the possibility of losing their mother. Climbing on my horse fixing my hat Kayce shifts foot to foot. "Can I ride with you?" He climbs on in front of me watching his sister slowly stare at her mother. Evelyn looked to her only daughter remember her almost last words weren't kind to her. Everyday she's been trying to fix that relationship between them. Beth would never tell her mom this but she'd tell Kayce, she doesn't hate her mother like she would've if she had died and that was their last conversation together.
"Climb on up honey." She helps her sit on the horde feeling her daughter nervous. "Take a deep breath. We'll be okay all of us." She whispered something I can't hear before I pull reigns suggesting something fun. "How about a race?" Evelyn nods kicking her horse getting a head start. Kayce raises a fist when Lee gets on his horse pointing at mom. "After mom!" Lee races ahead of us with me and Kayce following him. Watching my wife on horseback in front of me I try to not clutching the reins in fear of her injury. The sun glows over the hills in the distance lighting her hair that blows in the wind. Catching up beside her I smiled and she smiled back before Lee passed us heading back to the barn. "First one back gets first dibs on mom's biscuits!" He called over his shoulder making Kayce try grabbing the reins from my hands.
Pulling my reins I chased after my eldest son with my two girls beside me. Kayce loves those things so much that he kicks our horse making it go faster to nearly burst through the fence passing his brother. "I win Lee!" He gets down but Lee tackled him down as I get down from my horse helping Beth down. "If you head there now they won't notice. Go on babygirl." I whispered giving her a head start seeing her slowly walk up the stairs until the boys noticed a few seconds later. "Bethany don't you dare!" Lee warned running to get her with Kayce leaving his hat in the dirt running with him. "She's cheating!" Evelyn and I shack our heads laughing while putting the horses in the barn.
"I love you John." She takes a seat on the porch swing, tugging me down beside her grinning. "I love you too, Eve..." I removed my hat putting it on my legs seeing something bright in her eyes. "There's something else isn't there?" Her freehand rests on her stomach watching my gaze shift to it. "Happy anniversary my sweetheart." She breaths out before I kissed her passionately. She kissed me back with the same passion wrapping her arms around my neck. Once we break the kiss I rest my forehead against hers making her hat fall on the porch. "If it's another girl can we name it after you?" I questioned smiling down at my wife. "I'd love nothing more." She kissed me again laying her head on my chest watching the sunset.
Absolutely love your writing! Everytime you post, I get so excited :) Could I request a John Dutton fic where the reader finally gets to the point where she dares to tell him she loves him. And he rejects her at first, because he of course still loves his wife as well. But then eventually he apologises and they make up? Can be angsty if you’d want :)
I've Waited For You Forever
Hey there Anonymous asker, thank you so much for saying such a nice thing about my writing. I really enjoy seeing comments like this 😁 here's your request I hope you like it
Comments or reblogs with your thoughts are always welcome ❤️
Nobody plans to break up someone else’s marriage.
People just fall out of love with each other, that’s all - or at least that’s what I started telling myself when I ran into my best friend John Dutton from high school one day when the sheriff and I got a call from him saying that his daughter Beth had gotten drunk at a bar and she’s only sixteen.
The drive to the Bozeman bar was quiet between me and sheriff Haskell. I had just started working alongside him as his deputy after working as his receptionist for a few years before he finally gave me my current job. That night when I stepped out of the police car the wind blew some of my hair in front of my eyes making me distracted as his gruff voice met my ears. “Y/n, well I’ll be. The badge looks good on you.”
“It’s been a while hasn’t it, Commissioner Dutton.” Tying my loose hair up into a messy ponytail I nervously smiled up at him.
John strides up to me in his signature light brown jacket with white fur on the shoulders and around his neck. A thick black vest underneath that jacket and some dirty blue jeans and muddy brown boots. Completed with his familiar dark brown cowboy hat planted on his head - a true cowboy always stood in front of me every time I interacted with him.
And I have to admit that I always have a thing for cowboys - especially him.
I know what you’re thinking Y/n. You live in Montana and are surrounded by cowboys and ranchers your whole life. How could you not want one for yourself? But in my case that’s only half of the massive crush I have had on my best friend for years.
John simply has a seemingly intense and intriguing personality about him that draws me in. He has always been extremely loyal to keeping his family’s ranch alive and his family name intact in Montana. He yearns to develop a deep family connection with his wife Evelyn and their children Lee, Jaime, Beth and Kayce. And truthfully be told I wished it was me the one calling him husband the day he married Evelyn.
Sheriff Haskell shut his car door walking past me and his friend, focusing his attention on the sixteen year old girl who was puking in the parking lot of the bar. “We’ll take her to the station and get her some water and a change of clothes. And don’t worry about charges, I’ll let this one slide.” He went over to young Bethany helping her up from the ground and getting her into the backseat of the police car, leaving me and John alone for a brief moment.
John simply nodded his head in understanding, keeping his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. His intense gaze shifted back on me. “I meant what I said earlier. I always knew you’d look good wearing a badge.”
“That’s high praise coming from you, Commissioner."
He sent me a genuine smile the next time he spoke to me. “You don’t have to call me Commissioner, Y/n. You know me as well as my wife, hell maybe even better than she does.”
“Oh I don’t know about that-“ Kicking some gravel with one of my boots.
John focused his gaze on mine and forced me to look into his eyes once he raised a hand and tilted my chin up so I’d look him in the eye. “I am. You are one of the few who gets to call me John.”
“J-John.” I breathed out feeling my cheeks heating up by how physically close we were. I wanted to say more than that but I knew I shouldn’t - correction couldn’t. I couldn’t break up his marriage with Evelyn and possibly ruin my lifelong friendship with him. So I’d just bite my lip and keep quiet.
God, how wrong I was about that.
Not two months later I was sitting on his front porch at 1am cuddling up with him on the swing underneath a blanket while Evelyn and his kids were sleeping right inside the main house. I wasn’t supposed to be at his ranch this late. But the night we brought Beth back he asked me to stay for a few hours and I couldn't say no to him. We both knew if Evelyn caught us she'd lose it and likely cause so much shit around Montana.
Playing with the blanket I muttered out into the air, not daring to look him in the eye as I spoke. “John, can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Anything.”
I paused, taking in a long breath searching for the right next words to voice. Starting from seventh grade in middle school I started having a massive crush on the rancher sitting beside me and he still doesn’t know that I love him after all these years. Shifting my body so I was facing him more directly with us both sitting side by side on the swing I uttered the words for the first time. “I love you, John.”
“I love you too, Y/n.” He responded but I knew by his tone that he meant it as my best friend and not the other way around.
“I mean more than a best friend, John.” I stutter out finally focusing my attention up to meet his intense gaze. “I have for a long time actually - I have since our sophomore year of high school but was too afraid you’d reject me after you started spending so much time with Evelyn. And I know now isn’t a good time to be telling you this after you’ve married and have four beautiful children- it’s just - I can’t keep this secret anymore.”
John blankly stared at me for so long creating the most uncomfortable tension I have felt and I almost got shot at my job on my very first day. His eyes focused on me but he didn’t say anything which made me begin to get sick over how uncomfortable and awkward I had just made our relationship. And the next words that flew from my mouth cut through the nerve wracking silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. “John, please say something cause I can’t have you lookin’ at me like I just spit in your coffee.”
“I don’t - I don’t know what you really want me to say here, Y/n.” He shrugged his shoulders in response.
Feeling tears beginning to well up in the corners of my eyes I struggle to keep my voice from cracking up in the process. “Just say how you feel.”
“I - I’m - I’m sorry Y/n. I - I don’t feel the same way.”
“Why the hell not!” Clasping my hands over my mouth I gasped in horror when I realized what I just said. Jumping up from the swing I began backing away from him seeing how my emotions were getting the better of me.
John began explaining softly. “I’m married to Evelyn. We have been together for years and have children together.”
“Then what the hell has been going on between us for years, John!” Throwing my hands up in the air I raised my tone at the cowboy. “What were all the late night phone calls after Bea Norris broke your heart in fifth grade, or all the times you would get jealous when another guy would try to talk to me, or how about when we accidentally shared our first kiss with each other after falling down from the haystacks in the barn loft. Did none of that mean anything to you?”
My voice cracked on the last word, and I felt the first hot tear escape, trailing down my cheek. The air between us was suddenly heavy with unshed words, unspoken feelings, and a decade of shared history that he seemed to brush off like dust from his hat. I watched him, searching his eyes for even a flicker of the confusion or longing that was tearing me apart, but all I saw was a deep, unreadable sadness.
“Y/n…” he started, his voice a low rumble, but he trailed off, rubbing a hand across his jaw. He looked away, out towards the sprawling, silent ranch, as if the darkness held the answers he couldn’t give me. “It meant, it meant a lot. You know that. You’re my best friend. Always have been.”
“And that’s enough for you?” My voice was barely a whisper now, hollowed out by the pain. “Just ‘best friend’?”
He turned back to me, his gaze finally meeting mine, and I saw a flicker of something, perhaps regret, perhaps a terrible weariness. “It has to be, Y/n. I made a promise. I have a family.” His eyes drifted towards the house, where four sleeping children, his children, lay oblivious to the quiet devastation unfolding on their porch. “My life is here. With them.”
The words were a hammer blow. My throat tightened, and I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, a slow, jerky motion, trying to hold myself together. My mind raced, searching for an escape, a way to disappear from this moment, this ranch, this whole damn county. How could I have been so foolish? So utterly blind to the reality of his life, to the solidity of his choices?
“I-I should go,” I managed, backing away further, my foot finding the edge of the porch.
“Y/n, wait.” He reached out, but I flinched, pulling back as if burned. The raw hurt must have shown clearly on my face because his hand dropped, his expression twisting in genuine pain. “Please, don’t… don’t let this ruin things between us. You’re too important.”
“Important?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips, devoid of humor. “You just broke my heart, John, and you want me to pretend like it didn’t happen? Like we can just go back to sharing secrets on the porch?” The idea was unbearable. My best friend, the man I loved, had just told me unequivocally that he didn’t love me back, not in the way I needed, not in the way I’d dreamed. How could I ever look at him, at his family, the same way again?
Without another word, I turned and stumbled off the porch, feeling the cold night air sting my face. I didn’t look back, didn’t respond to his soft “Y/n, please.” I just walked, faster and faster, until I was practically running to my patrol car parked discreetly down the lane. The engine roared to life, a discordant symphony to my shattered emotions, and I sped away, leaving the Yellowstone behind, leaving him, and leaving a piece of myself on that damn porch swing.
The next few months were a blur of work and deliberate avoidance. Sheriff Haskell noticed my quietness, the new intensity in my movements, but he was wise enough not to pry. I buried myself in my duties, chasing down petty thieves, mediating neighborly disputes, and filling out endless paperwork. It was a good distraction, a shield against the aching void in my chest. I saw John, of course. Montana wasn’t that big. Our paths crossed at the county office, at livestock auctions, even sometimes on the road as I patrolled and he drove his truck, a blur of familiar dark blue against the golden fields. Each sighting was a fresh stab, a reminder of what I had confessed and what I had lost. He’d try to meet my eyes, sometimes offer a small, hesitant nod, but I’d turn away, focusing on a report, on the horizon, on anything but him. I couldn’t be his ‘best friend’ if it meant watching him live the life I craved, with the woman he’d chosen.
Word trickled through the grapevine about the Duttons. Evelyn, ever the stoic, was even more withdrawn than usual. The ranch hands whispered about late-night arguments, about John spending more time in the fields, working himself to exhaustion. I saw it too. His face, already etched with the responsibility of the ranch, seemed even heavier, shadowed by a burden I couldn't name. He looked tired, perpetually so, and sometimes, just sometimes, I’d catch him looking at me across a crowded room, a raw, searching look that made my breath hitch.
I fought it. I told myself it was guilt, regret, nothing more. He made his choice. I had to make mine – to move on. I even went on a few dates, awkward dinners with men who were perfectly nice but couldn't hold a candle to the ghost of a cowboy in my heart. They’d talk about small-town gossip, about their cattle, about the weather, and all I could hear was the echo of John’s voice, the memory of his hand lifting my chin. It was hopeless.
One blustery afternoon, a call came over the radio: a small plane went down deep in the backcountry, near the Dutton border. Search and Rescue was mobilizing, and Haskell wanted me on the ground. When I arrived at the staging area, John was already there, his face grim, coordinating with the SAR team. It was his land, his responsibility. Our eyes met across the chaotic scene, and this time, I didn't look away. There was no awkwardness, no pretense. Just the shared urgency of the moment. He walked over, his usual cowboy stride purposeful.
“Deputy L/n,” he acknowledged, his voice deeper than I remembered, or perhaps it was just the intensity of the situation. “Glad you’re here. Terrain’s rough. Got a feeling this is gonna be a long one.”
“Commissioner,” I replied, the title feeling too formal but a necessary barrier. “I’m ready. What’s the latest?”
We worked for hours, pushing through dense brush and rocky inclines, the biting wind whipping around us. John was tireless, his knowledge of the land invaluable. He scouted ahead, helped clear paths, his leadership quiet but absolute. At one point, we were separated from the main group, climbing a steep, treacherous ridge. A loose rock shifted beneath my boot, and I cried out, losing my footing. Before I could fall, John was there, his strong arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me hard against him, steadying me. My face was pressed against his chest, the familiar scent of leather, pine, and honest sweat flooding my senses. My heart hammered against my ribs, not just from the near-fall, but from the sudden, undeniable proximity.
“Careful, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough against my ear. He held me for a beat longer than necessary, his grip firm, protective. I could feel the warmth of him through my uniform, the solid strength of his body. When he finally loosened his hold, he didn’t let go completely, his hand resting on my arm, his thumb gently stroking my sleeve. Our eyes locked, and the world outside of us faded. All the pain, all the distance, all the unspoken words were suddenly laid bare.
His eyes, those intense, ocean-blue eyes that had haunted my dreams for years, held a depth of emotion I hadn’t seen before. Regret, yes, but something else too. A desperate yearning that mirrored my own.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so low I almost missed it. “For everything. For how I hurt you.”
My breath hitched. “John…”
He squeezed my arm, then let go, stepping back, but his gaze never left mine. “No. Let me speak, Y/n. I was a fool. A damn fool. I heard everything you said that night. Every single word. And I pushed it away because… because I was scared.” He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his hat for a moment before settling it back. “Scared of what it meant. Scared of what I felt. Scared of tearing my life apart. Evelyn… She's a good woman. And she’s given me a family. But… but it hasn’t been enough, Y/n. Not like this. Not with you.”
My vision blurred with tears, but this time, they weren’t tears of fresh heartbreak, but of agonizing, dizzying hope. “What are you saying, John?”
He took a step closer, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m saying I spent weeks trying to convince myself what we had was just friendship. What I felt was just habit. But it’s not. It’s never been. I watch you, Y/n. I see the woman you’ve become, the deputy, the one who carries herself with such strength and grace, and all I can think about is how I let you walk away.” He reached out, his hand hovering near my face, then gently cupped my cheek. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, sending shivers through me. “That kiss in the hayloft wasn’t an accident for me, Y/n. Not really. It was just… the wrong time.”
“And now?” I choked out, my voice trembling.
His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Now, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I know I can’t keep living a lie, not to myself, not to you. And I can’t live without you, Y/n. Not like this.”
It was agonizing. It was everything I had ever wanted to hear, delivered in the cruelest, most complicated way. He was still married. He had children. But he was admitting it, admitting his feelings. The world felt like it was tilting on its axis.
“John,” I whispered, tears finally falling freely. “What about Evelyn?”
His eyes closed for a moment, a deep sigh escaping him. “That’s… that’s a conversation I have to have. And it won’t be easy. She’s not going to take this well. You know that.” He opened his eyes, and the pain there was stark. “But I can’t stay in a marriage that’s… that’s just a shell. Not when I know what real connection feels like. What we feel.”
The search and rescue team called out to us, reminding us of our duty, of the world outside our emotional storm. We spent another six hours combing the terrain, finding the wreckage and, heartbreakingly, the pilot. The shared trauma, the bone-deep weariness, only intensified the unspoken understanding between us. We spoke little, worked in sync, and every time our eyes met, the promise, the agonizing possibility, hung heavy in the air.
Days turned into a week. The tension in Bozeman was palpable. Rumors flew, whispers about John and Evelyn, about the cracks finally showing in the Dutton family facade. I kept my head down, doing my job, but my heart was a frantic bird in my chest. Then, one evening, a call came to my small apartment. It was John.
“Can I come over?” he asked, his voice tired, yet resolute. “I need to talk.”
I knew. I let him in without a word. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. There was a faint bruise on his cheek, a cut on his lip. My breath hitched.
“Evelyn?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He nodded, running a hand over his face. “She knows. She’s… she’s furious. Said things. Broke things. It was… hell, Y/n. It was hell.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “But it’s done. I told her I couldn’t do it anymore. That I needed to be honest, with her, with myself.”
My eyes welled up again. “And the kids?”
“That’s the hardest part,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “They don’t understand. Beth’s angry, Jamie’s retreating, Lee’s just confused. Kayce’s too young… This isn’t going to be easy, Y/n. It’s going to be a long, brutal fight.” He stepped closer, reaching out, his hands finding my shoulders. “But if I’m going to fight, I need to know… I need to know you’re in this with me. That what I feel is real, for both of us.”
I didn’t hesitate. I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. “Oh, John,” I sobbed, the dam finally breaking. “Always. Always.”
He held me tight, his arms crushing me against him, and I felt the tremor in his body, the release of tension that had been building for years. We stood there for a long time, just holding each other, letting the tears fall, letting the weight of the moment settle.
It wasn't a fairytale ending. The fallout was immense. Evelyn Dutton, as expected, was a force of nature, her anger a storm that raged across the valley. There were whispers, judgment, and the painful reality of a family split apart. I was suddenly branded the 'other woman,' the one who broke up the Dutton marriage, despite the quiet, private truth of a love that had festered beneath the surface for decades. John himself navigated a minefield of guilt and the fierce protectiveness of his children, who were, for a long time, confused and hurt.
But through it all, there was us. John and I.
Months later, we sat on my small porch, not the grand Yellowstone one, but a modest one with a view of the distant mountains. He had his arm around me, my head resting on his shoulder, just like that night two months ago, and so many nights before. Except this time, there was no secret, no fear, no painful unrequited love.
“It’s quiet here,” I murmured, listening to the crickets.
“Yeah,” he rumbled, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Good quiet.”
I looked up at him, studying the lines around his eyes, the slight silvering at his temples. He was still the cowboy I’d loved since I was a girl, but now, he was mine. Hard-won, complicated, but wholly mine.
“You still think the badge looks good on me?” I teased lightly.
He chuckled, pulling me closer. “Looks even better now, Deputy L/n. Everything looks better now.” His eyes, no longer shadowed by conflict, held a deep, profound peace. “Turns out, I didn’t just want to be good, Y/n. I just wanted to be honest. And with you… with you, I finally am.”
He kissed me then, a slow, tender kiss that spoke of patience, of understanding, of a deep, abiding love that had weathered years of silence and finally, finally found its voice. It wasn't the easy kind of happiness, but it was real. And in the vast, wide-open landscape of Montana, under the endless sky, that felt like everything.
Currently watching Yellowstone for the first time and could not get this out of my head. Gretchen Mol does a great job but I would also have loved to see this.
