#llewyn fluff

[myfandomlikesandstories]

Successful! Llewyn Davis AU headcanons

Llewyn Davis x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Summary: what if Llewyn became a famous musician?

Warnings: mention of murder

Word count: 1088

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It was just another slightly drunken, shitty night at the gaslight for Llewyn. Nearly empty bucket, scattered clapping that died out after a second. Except it wasn't. He didn't know it was the night that would change his life.

You were sitting in the audience. You weren't a regular at the gaslight, not at all, but tonight you were just craving a strong drink and company. The other bars in the neighborhood were too loud and bright for you that night, so you settled on the dim, depressing, "folk song playing" place.

You clapped politely for everyone, not listening, as you nursed your bitter drink and bitter mood. Until something caught your attention. A handsome (albeit a bit shabby) man with the voice of an angel, who you likened in your mind to a wet cat.

You didn't listen to the words he said. Not that you didn't try, but his voice awoke something within you. As a songwriter on a slump, you jumped the chance and started scribbling on a napkin from the table. Just whatever came to mind. Nothing would come of it anyway, but it's good for your writer's block.

When he left the stage, you downed the rest of your drink and hurried towards him. You slowed before he saw you, trying to maintain your cool.

"Davis, right?" You asked.

"Yeah," he answered and you extended your arm to him while introducing yourself. He shook it tentatively.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Llewyn thought about it. He automated to say no, but reconsidered. He had nothing better to do, could definitely use that drink, and you looked pretty damn good. So he accepted.

After some conversation (he didn't remember anyone being that nice to him for a long time), you asked him what were his plans for the night. He told you that he was staying with a couple of friends, those Jim and Jean couple, and they happened to pass by.

Jim was nudged by Jean towards Llewyn and awkwardly told him that actually, he couldn't stay on their couch tonight. Jean made some plans. You could see Llewyn's face fall, and when Jim left he just stared downwards quietly, in embarrassment.

"Correction: I'm not staying with them tonight." He mumbled.

You took a deep breath. "You could stay with me, if you'd like. My boyfriend-" you cleared your throat, "Ex boyfriend, just moved out and took all his shit from the study with him. So I got an empty guest room." (Why were you doing this? He's a stranger for fuck's sake!)

He looked at you, surprised. A quick mental calculation showed he had no one else to turn to that night. What's the worst that could happen? You'd kill him? He'd been thinking of joining Mike anyway. So he accepted.

Suffice to say, you didn't murder him. A while has passed, and Llewyn has become your roommate, practically. Yeah, he couldn't help much with the rent, but he did make that up by cleaning a lot, which sometimes is even better.

(Also, it was the 60s, rent wasn't that fucking high. It was about less than half of what it is today.) ANYWAY

One day, while dusting around, Llewyn found a notebook of yours. He didn't mean to peek, it just fell open or something. It was your poetry and songwriting notebook. By the time you came back home he had composed 3 of the songs there and was flooding you with questions about the chorus of a fourth.

You never thought to show it to him, you were just writing to your drawer! They weren't even good, or complete! You wanted to snatch it away from his hands and tell him to forget about it, but you've never seen him so happy. So alive.

He begged you to let him take your songs to his agent. How could you say no to him? Especially to those puppy eyes.

His agent was glad to hear Llewyn has partnered up again. He heard him out, and set him up with some producer. Finally, Llewyn Davis seemed like a good enough investment. And that's how it started.

From then on, Llewyn's career blossomed. He recorded an album (didn't sell away the rights this time) and the money started flowing. He preformed in front of larger and larger audiences, and you were always at his side.

He often felt like he didn't deserve any of that. He was told, so many times, that he was absolute crap and he started to believe it. But you were there to remind him. He deserved the world. Little did you know the only thing he truly wanted to deserve was you.

You inspired each other, creating more music and flowing with good energy. It took him a while, but when he finally found the courage, finally deemed himself worthy, he took a risk.

He asked you out.

When you started laughing at him, Llewyn's heart dropped. He's fucked his life over, again, in the worst way possible. You're going to leave and everything will go down the drain.

"Of course!!!" You said. "I'd love to go out with you, I thought you'd never ask! But oh my god your face..." you giggled. He sighed in relief, clutching his chest. You came closed and hugged him. He held you very tightly, smiling at your laughter.

That night you shared your first (and long awaited) kiss. A few months later you put out an album very different than both your writing so far. It was passionate, sensual, romantic and warm. One of the songs from it became the hit of the decade, and was played at countless weddings. You thought it was a beautiful way to immortalise your love.

And your love was immortalised alright! With two rings, nonetheless. Your wedding was covered by every newspaper in the country. Llewyn didn't like the attention all that much, though.

His solution? Another, more quiet and private wedding. This one ended up being your real anniversary.

Ever since Llewyn started earning a reasonable income, he insisted on paying for everything. Doesn't matter that you both earned a significant amount from the music, and that you joined bank accounts. He wanted to thank you for all that time you took care of him. So no, lunch is on him. Finally being able to provide for you made him really happy and proud (not that you needed any help).

You were one of the only "celebrity couples" who were genuinely happy together. You truly, deeply, loved each other, and when things would become too much you would take a vacation. Just the two of you. As it always was.

Llewyn made it in life, that was all agreed upon. Yeah, he became a famous musician, but the only thing he cared about - was you.

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No pressure tags:

@eyelessfaces @alwritey-aphrodite @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @romanarose @spider-starry

I hope you like it, everybody❤️

[minigirl87]

Moon River & Me. Llewyn Davis x F’Reader.

Summary:-

This is just a little fluffy story to celebrate my birthday. The song Moon River is special to me as it was playing on the hospital radio as I was born. It was also my mums favourite song as she saw the movie when she was young and I remember her telling me when she was a teen in hospital, the doctor sang the song for her fixing her calliper brace. And spookily, I always hear this song around my birthday.

Lewlyn turns up at your apartment at 2am. after disappearing for a month. You help take care of him. But next morning you think he's gone and get a wonderful surprise.

So this is my first Lewlyn Davis story. I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to share and comment.

Words:-993.

2am and the doorbell to your appointment rings echo its chime through the quiet chilly rooms as you rise from your warm cosy bed. Your ginger and white cat Rami is looking up grumpily as he’s disturbed from his sleep before stretching and plopping on his side, sleeping again.

 Wrapping your thick purple and blue house coat around you and putting your slippers on, yawning as you pad into the hall, putting the light on. You knew who was at the door without even thinking. Opening the door to a rather tired and dishevelled man wrapped in almost inappropriate clothes for a freezing cold January morning.

 Looking at him, the dark circles under his eyes, the greasy bobbing ebony curls, and the strong smell of cigarettes around him. Moving out of the way to let him inside. “Come in Lew, it’s 2 am, you know” you said sleepily, trying to mask some annoyance. He looked away as he sheepishly responded “I know, sorry, but I didn’t know where else to go”

Sighing “it’s fine. I’d rather you be safe here than on the streets. You must me freezing?” Lewlyn simply shrugs ��a little” shaking your head“Let’s get some heat into you” walking towards her kitchen, turning  the thermostat up and lightning the gas to boil the kettle “where have you been since you disappeared a month ago? I’ve been worried about you”

 “Here and there, no where particular’ the answers vaguely. “But I’m here now” his cheeks form the slightest rose blush to them. “yeah till you disappear again to god knows where” your tone coming of harsher in your tired state.

 His stomach grumbles loudly and with a look of embarrassment as he mumbles an apology. “I assume your hunger?” the kettle whistling in the background concocting a strange symphony with Lewlyn’s stomach.

 “I’ll get you something to get eat if you go for a bath” walking past him to the bathroom, setting the shower up and getting him towels. “I’ll the change of clothes on the bed for you, okay” Lewlyn simply nods in response and as she closes the bathroom door you almost thought you heard him say “I love you” shaking your head thinking you’re hearing things to go to start cooking something light for him.

 15 minutes later, a refreshed and relaxed man’s walks into the kitchen clean and changes. Smiling at him as he sits down “Here you go, it’s not much but should fill you till the morning” putting a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of tea in front of him. Lewlyn receives the plate and cup graciously and digs in with a contented sigh. “We really need to have a serious talk tomorrow Lew” swallowing his tea before answering with a smirk “I agree” shaking your head with a laugh “I’m going back to bed now, you okay to find your way there when you finish. Nodding his head as you stand up. You just reach your bedroom door when you hear the plate and mug in the sink and Lew’s footsteps behind you.

Next morning, you wake up in bed alone, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Getting up with a sigh, slipping into your slippers and robe, you open the your bedroom door to the soft strums of a guitar and humming only broken with Lewlyn’s voice speaking to Rami who meowed back at his questions. You knew the tune so well. With tears in your eyes, you rush to the lounge to find Lewlyn sitting crossed, legged, wearing the white t-shirt and blue boxers as the evening before, in the armchair his guitar resting his thighs.

 As you take the scene in that’s in front of you as you lean on the door frame. “you remembered the song” smiling as a tear trickled down your cheek. At the sound of your tears, your cat runs towards you, leaning into you, comforting you. “Yeah, I do” he gets up from the chair, walking towards you, enveloping you in his arms, kissing the top of your head, his scent filling your senses. then proceeding to walk you towards the chair.

As you sit in the chair, Lewlyn sits on the arm leaning down and picking his guitar up and starts to sing

“Moon river, wider than a mile

I’m crossing you in style someday

Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker

Wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ your way”

 His voice sounded like honey, soothing and smooth. He hummed for a little as he strummed away at the cords you sat transfixed at this wonderfully talented man in front of you. You adored this song. It meant a lot to you. After seeing the movie the previous month with Lewlyn for Christmas.

 Your trance broke as the timbre of his voice filled your ears still as sweet, but you hear something more the way he sounds. Something longing and wanting.

“Two drifters, off to see the world

There’s such a lot of world to see

We’re after the same rainbow’s end

Waitin’ ‘round the bend

My huckleberry friend

Moon river and me”

 As he finished singing, his cheeks were rosie, and his ebony curls bounced as he smiled at you. He puts his guitar down and takes your hand, and holds it. “I can’t keep this to me myself anymore, Y/N I love you. I need to be with you if you’ll have me?”

Squeezing his hand back “I love you too, I’ve wanted you for so long. But I didn’t.....” He leans in gently kissing you.

“I know” smiling. You kiss him back with a little more passion tasting him, the taste of coffee and cigarettes. He breaks away resting his forehead and nose against you. “Happy Birthday sweetheart, I love you.”

Kissing him back “I love you too. This is a birthday I’ll never forget.”

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @guruan-is-not-here @ivystoryweaver @whatthefishh @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @lonelyisamyw-0love @madlittlecriminal @saturn-rings-writes @madlittlecriminal @gigachadcowboy @mess-of-fandom @hon3yboy @ominoose @jayke0 @theaussiedragon @reallyrallyauthor @romana-after-dark @purelyoscar

Thank you, too @cafekitsune for the deviders and borders

[l8rs-gat0rs]

Masterlist!

Welcome! Here are all my fics in one place (^_^)

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Inbox status: Closed for requests :( but open for chatting!

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Request details:

You may request fics about any of the characters mentioned in the character lists (*except for the one-off list*). As of right now, I am only doing X reader fics.

currently I have only written female/AFAB reader, but I am open to writing for other readers as well. I want to be inclusive! if I do research and still feel like I am unsure if I will do it justice, I will let you know

~Character Lists~

These are the characters that I have written about, and are on this masterlist. (Also 1 or 2 characters I haven't written for yet but I am planning to)

Oscar Isaac Characters

Duke Leto

Llewyn Davis

Moon Knight system

Jonathan Levy

Poe Dameron (eventually, send requests if you have any)

Miguel O'Hara (eventually, send requests if you have any)

WLW characters

Eva

Midge Maisel

Juliette Fairmont

Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers

One-off characters

Joel Miller (special request)

(Credits to all the Gif creators)

💦=smut

🤍=drabble

🍬=fluff

🔥= Angst

Fics start under the cut

(All borders used created by @saradika )

Oscar Isaac Characters

Duke Leto Atreides

Kiss It Better 🍬🔥💦 | Leto finds his lover reminiscing about her childhood. She is having regrets, but the duke is determined to relieve her pain in one of her favorite ways.

Llewyn Davis

Old Friends 🍬💦 | An old friend knocks on your door extremely early in the morning looking for a place to stay. And who are you to say no to him when he looks like a sad puppy?

Moon Knight System

Complicated 🔥 | pairing(s): Marc x reader x Steven | The moon boys plan on confessing their secret crush. They are interrupted when they find her getting kidnapped after witnessing a robbery gone wrong, and they swoop in to save her.

The Mind Wanders 🍬🔥 | pairing(s): Steven x reader | you find out Steven's mind has been wandering. He's become quite entranced with another woman, and you won't stand for it. After you leave, Steven is determined to do anything, and everything to regain your trust.

Broken Promises 🍬🔥 | WIP

Jonathan Levy

A Good Morning 🤍🍬💦 | Jonathan wakes up one morning reluctant to go to work. y/n adds to that reluctance.

WLW Fics

Eva (Swarm)

Secret Thoughts 💦 | During one of your sessions with Eva you can't help but spill a secret you didn't think you would. Eva is thrilled to hear it and decides to fulfill your request.

It's always been you🍬🔥 | You and Eva have been dating for a while, Eva thinks the girls suspect something so she starts being more flirty with them. However, you don't take this very well, and you threaten to leave.

Save Me From Myself 🍬🔥 | You have social anxiety and Eva has been helping you with it. After messing up a game of Twister, you feel like you can't be helped so you decide to leave. Eva stops you from leaving, which leads to a confession.

The Golden Window 🍬 | Eva turns to the girls for some help telling you that she likes you, but it doesn't go as planned...

Miriam "Midge" Maisel

Hello Stranger 🍬 | You are at the- special...bar you frequent, and see a gorgeous stranger. You are Intrigued by her and decide to approach her.

Living The Dream 🍬 | WIP

Juliette Fairmont

A Vampire Romcom 🔥 | You're a transfer student at Lancaster academy and you bump into a cute girl, what are the odds she's also a cute Vampire?

Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers

You Got Some Time? 🍬🔥| The Captain's got some free time on her hands and so do you, you decide to have a night out because superheroes don't get many of those. As the night goes on, Carol decides time isn't the only thing she wants her hands on and you have the exact same idea.

A Christmas Carol 🍬| You're out in New York City with Carol and the biting cold starts to get to you. Thankfully Carol is there to keep your hands warm.

[kirsteng42]

All I can say is wow!!! I have read a couple of titles off her and I’m definitely going to be reading a lot more!!!!

Join my taglist!

TUMBLR FUCKED UP MY LINKS!!!! Everything is getting reconstructed and its a pain. If something interests you that the link doesnt work, try looking for it on my blog, but if you cant find it, send me and ask and ill try to link you! Anything in bold should be linked right, but if its not, let me know!!

Rules and boundaries

Moon Knight

Triple Frontier

The Last of Us

Star Wars

Javier Peña

If You Wanna Be Wild ft. Santiago Garcia: Javi and his new partner, a young Santiago Garcia straight out the military, begin to take down Lorea with the help of Candy, a charming and beautiful prostitute.

Miguel O'Hara

Take It All: Miguel throat fucks you. That's it.

Couch Sex: Rough couch sex and communication

Surrender: Miguel surrenders to you

The Card Counter

Washed In Black: William Tell meets a much younger cocktail waitress and although he initially rebuffs her advances, he soon finds himself inviting her along on his travels. Just for the summer... right?

Inside Llewyn Davis

Shelter from the Storm: Llewyn meets her and she shows him kindness. He finds a way to pay her back. ♥️🌶

1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION!!!!

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 21: Can't Find the Words (Llewyn Davis)

Notes: Llewyn Davis x gn!reader. Llewyn doesn't feel worthy of a home, domestic fluff

Word Count: 522

Three months since you let Llewyn into your bed.

Two months since he wormed his way into your heart.

One month since you let him share your home.

Llewyn was a beautiful, scattered, devoted, intense, tormented disaster.

He was messy. Dishes piled up. Yet he kept his few belongings in one corner of the den, out of your way.

He often paraded around the house in underwear, or sometimes, nothing at all.

You bought him a winter coat last week. He cried, then wrote a song about it.

He would disappear sometimes for a few days and you would cry.

"Don't wanna be a burden," he would halfheartedly explain, gripping his guitar case guardedly.

"You're not...Llewyn, this is your home now." Reaching for his case, you tried to lighten his load in every way possible. "Come on inside."

He tried to cook sometimes but he burned everything. You ate it anyway.

Gave you all the change from his tip jar "for rent".

He waited every night for you to invite him to bed. He seemed to love your cat and your fireplace, but what about you?

"I can get you your own bed, if you need space," you tried to explain. "If you don't want to sleep with me. You can still stay here."

Booted feet shuffled as he raked a gloved hand through his curls. "I can take the couch, it's all right."

You sighed, exasperated, but not angry. "Llewyn, do you have feelings for me? At all?"

"'Course I do, I..." He stroked his thick beard contemplatively. "You just..." Waving his hand around him, he shook his head. "This is all - it's too much."

"What's too much?" You pressed. "Me? I can give you space."

"No. No, it's not that. I just...can't find the words, really."

Reaching for his hand, you relented. "It's okay."

The next night, he came home late, but found you right away. "Sorry. Had a gig. Good tips."

"That's because you're brilliant," you sweetly returned.

He smiled so big it made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

You nodded toward the stove. "Chili?"

"Uh, soon. Got something for you first."

Gently grasping your hand, he led you to the living room, nodding for you to sit on the sofa. Your heart quickened as he reached for his guitar case.

"Wrote you something."

"Oh wait, let me get my wallet."

"What?" He chuckled, fixing his guitar strap over his shoulder.

"You don't like to play for free. I'll pay." Your eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I'll play for you anytime, sweetheart."

The song was somehow about home. Lyrics told you how he drifted, how he wandered, but now his heart had a tether. The beautiful tenor of his voice weaved and turned exquisitely over the arpeggios plucked by expert fingers.

Your eyes and cheeks were wet as he strummed the final chord.

"Nobody ever wrote me a song before," you tearfully whispered, reaching out for him as he set his instrument aside and knelt down in front of you.

"Nobody ever felt like home before," he returned, brown eyes adoring you as he pressed his lips to yours.

Angstember Masterlist || Misc. Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[emma23]

Masterlist:

This masterlist will be about Oscar Isaac characters. I will maybe do some Pedro pascal characters too but it will be mainly about Oscar Isaac.

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U can know tips if u like my fics. Those will help me paying my school. Thanks all 💕

Link: https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

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The most recent fic:

28/01: a tangled web of two 🥰🌹 (Peter Parker x reader)

28/01: wrapped around you 🌹🥰🔥 (joel Miller x reader)

27/01: breath me back 🥰🌹🤗 (Santiago Garcia x reader)

26/01: unspoken currents 🌹 (Nathan Bateman x reader)

26/01: found you 🌹🥰 (moon boys x reader)

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Fluff: 🥰

Romance: 🌹

Angst: 😔

Hurt: 💔

Confort: 🤗

Smut: 🔥

Magic: 💫

Dark: 🖤

Mystery: 🕵🏻‍♂️

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Oscar Isaac character:

Headcanon

Masterlist Poe dameron:

Masterlist Steven grant:

Masterlist Jonathan Levy:

Masterlist Nathan Bateman:

Masterlist santiago Garcia:

Masterlist marc Spector:

Masterlist Jake Lockley:

Masterlist Llewyn Davis:

Masterlist duke Leto astreides:

Masterlist Blue jones:

Masterlist moon knight:

Miguel o’hara:

Dark Miguel 🖤

Maybe the tests aren't quite right 🤗

It’s just a dare 🌹

Boss Miguel 🖤

Caught in the web of love 🌹

Chasing ghosts 💔🖤

The taste of cherry 🌹

Rydal keener:

The honeymoon 💔

The worst tour guide ever 🌹

Cats confusion and a charmer named Rydal 💔

Orestes:

Orestes x reader 🌹

The fall of Alexandria 😔

The sun and the moon 🤗

The astronomer and the prefect 🌹

Kane:

Kane x reader 😔

In the shadow of the Shimmer 😔

Bud Cooper:

Unmasking Suburbicon 🕵🏻‍♂️

Unexpected encounters 🌹

Basil Stitt:

The Lightning connection 🤗

Lightning in a bottle 🔥:

Cecil Denis:

Melting point 🔥

Chaotic rhythms 🔥

Beneath the surface 🤗

Wait, I don’t get it, please explain 🥰

Waiting for something special 🌹

William Tell:

Rolling the dice on us 😔

The odds of us 🔥🌹

A house of his own making 🖤🌹

Two hands one heart 🌹

Playing with fire 🔥🌹

A flutter of choices 🥰🌹🔥

Richard Munoz:

Muffled confessions 💔

Boundaries and bullies 🔥

King John:

Falling for the villain 🔥🌹

A royal misstep 🔥

A fragile crown 😔🤗

The king’s proposition 🔥

Between a crown and a hard place 🌹

The Royal game 😔🌹

Anselm Vogelweide:

The crumbling brick 💔

The translation game🌹

Laurent leclert:

The art of deception 🌹

Shiv:

Kiss and run 🥰

A deal too personal 🔥

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Pedro Pascal charecter:

Masterlist Joel miller

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Tom holland characters:

Peter Parker:

Roommate mishap 🥰🌹🤗

Crazy for you 🌹

Menace in making 🌹🥰

Echoes in the dark 🥰🌹💫

A tangled web of two 🥰🌹

[blue-sadie]

.Marvel.Universe.

Request Page

Platonic = 🌼 Fluff = 🌺 Smut =🌹 Lime =⚘️ Angst = 🥀 Yandere =🍁

Imagines

Temptation - Bucky 🌹

Khonsu's Turn - Khonsu 🌹

Gentle Touch - Loki 🌺

Sit Upon The Throne - Loki 🌹

Praises - Marc 🌹

Five Stars - Peter 🌺

Combos

After Class Punishments - Moon System 🌹

Reflections - Moon System 🌹

Incorrect Quotes

Crusty... What? - Bucky, Natasha

Drabbles

Oneshots

Drive On - Jake 🌹

Take A Breather - Miguel 🌹

Blood Flood - Peter 🌺

Combos

Save Him - Moon System 🥀🌺

Bloody Hands - Moon System 🥀🌺

Three For The Price Of One - Moon System 🌹

Series

Different Versions Oscar Isaac Characters: Moon System, Marcus, Shiv, Basil Stitt, Jonathan Levy, Llewyn Davis, William Tell, Cecil Dennis, Robbie Paulson, Outcome 3 (David), Santiago Gracia, Kane, Nathan Bateman, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron, Peter Malkin, Bassam, Prince John, Orestes, Laurent Leclaire, Oscar Isaac

Modern Day

Medieval/Fantasy

Omegaverse

Crossovers

Preferences

Flashing Lights - Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes 🌺

Beach Sun - Bucky Barnes Petro Maximoff,Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Thor, Tony Stark 🌹

Bubbling Heat - Jake Lockley, Tony Stark, Steven Rogers, Bruce Banner, Loki, Stephan Strange 🌹

Kiss The Cook - Peter Parker, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Thor, Bucky Barnes 🌹

Movie Marathon - Jake Lockley, Peter Parker, Pietro Maximoff, Bucky Barnes 🌹

NSFW and SFW Alphabet

Headcanons

Apologizing After A Fight - Moon System

Dating An Artist - Moon System

they accidentally hurt you when having a nightmare - Moon System

Them when Your On Your Period - Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker

[myfandomlikesandstories]

it's me again......🤭

🌟 and ❤️ for llewyn?

I was so sure the 🤭 was a request too😂

🌟 - a secret wish Headcanon

Llewyn secretly wishes he'd have met you before Mike died. He used to be a happy person, he really did, but his life took too many bad turns. He wants you to be happy, he truly does, and he thinks he used to be better. That he could have been better for you. Maybe if he'd met you before, your life would have been better. His life would been better. Maybe together you could conjure enough happiness to help Mike? He's not sure if that works that way. Maybe it'd have only made him more depressed.

Llewyn really tries not to think about it. It didn't happen, it doesn't matter, and he doesn't need to talk to you about it. So this stays a secret, unless you'd notice that too much light reflects from his eyes when he's caught up in his own head.

❤️ - a romantic Headcanon

Of course our music man wrote a song about you.

"The golden sun rays

Stroke your face

At the break of dawn

A dove of peace

Please promise this -

If I blink, you won't be gone"

You found this handwritten note on the kitchen counter one Saturday morning, when Llewyn went to grab some coffee and donuts. It was held in place by... A ring???

When he came back home, you couldn't hold the tears in your eyes. You hugged him immediately.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I will marry you, Llewyn Davis."

When you kissed, and he slipped the ring on your finger, something in his chest eased. His heart is safe with you.

Bonus Headcanon - 🤭 - a blushing Headcanon

You were, as usual, lying on Llewyn's chest when a mischievous idea came to your mind.

"Wait a second, I wanna move," you said, wriggling and pushing him.

"What? You're always comfortable like this!" He protested.

You managed to flip your places, and ended up cuddling Llewyn to your chest. You placed a little kiss on the surprised man's nose.

"I think this can be comfortable too." You murmured when you started to run your fingers through his curls. He settled, and when you looked down at your love you could see him blushing a bright shade of red.

[runa-falls]

3k celebration masterlist

main post

here's a collection of all the activities:

hc's

oral + tummy worship (explicit) - marc spector x reader

moon boys with a short hair!reader (fluff)

moon boys with partner who's an avid reader (fluff)

platonic!miguel + reader hcs (fluff)

blurbs

"call me that again" (explicit) - miguel x afab!reader

"ten? i only need five" (suggestive) - ceo!miguel x assistant!reader

"did you just kiss me?" - steven grant x best friend!reader

"did i say that out loud?" marc spector x avatar!reader

“this isn’t what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you.” (explicit) - poe dameron x f!reader (angst, smut)

"i know who you pretend I am" (explicit) - miguel o'hara x reader (very angsty, smut)

blindfolding miguel (suggestive)

miguel helping you fall asleep [pure fluff]

picnic + strawberries (suggestive) - miguel o'hara

"bad idea, right?" (explicit) - miguel o'hara

one-shots

after dark** - geneticist!miguel x intern reader (dark, non-con, explicit)

fic/song recs

songs for jake lockley

songs for miguel o'hara (+ scenarios)

moon knight + british bands

moon knight angst recs

moon knight smut recs

miguel o'hara smut recs

other asks

fmk - moon boys

fmk - miguel, marc, llewyn

fmk - frank castle, steven, miguel

moon knight = cat people

steven's chain

[mandobatemans]

oscar isaac character masterlist

Nathan Bateman

Fics

Home-Cooked Meal

Laying Out the Welcome Mat

Santiago Garcia

Headcanons

NSFW 

Poe Dameron

Fics

Blaster Play

Blurbs

Public Sex

Llewyn Davis

Fics

Morning Love Songs

Leto Atreides

Fics

Submit to My Rule

Submit to My Rule II

Orestes

Fics

To See You in Your Throne

Jonathan Levy

Fics

Age Gap

William Tell

Headcanons

Relationship Fluff

Fics

Sub!William

Miguel O'Hara

Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons Pt. II

Threesome (w/ Peter B. Parker)

Blurbs

Late Nights

Steven Grant

Blurbs

Glasses

[myfandomlikesandstories]

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Affection

Listen. I just really love this man, okay? He deserves to be loved and given affection. And I am here to deliver.

Tag List: @darksideofclarke @criminal-cookies @rae-rae-patcha @kittyofalltrades @damndamer0n @damerondjarin @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall (I just kinda tagged who I thought might be interested)

~~~

When you let yourself into your apartment after work, you were a little surprised to hear the dulcet tones of Llewyn’s guitar. Smiling to yourself, you hurried down the hall and out into the living space. There, sitting on your coach and strumming away, was Llewyn. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too caught up in his music. You leaned against the wall at the entrance of the room, listening to him play. He was humming along to his music and while it made you happy to hear him play, you could tell he was in one of his low moods. Deciding to announce your presence so as not to startle him, you call out a soft hey. He immediately stops strumming, looking up to see you, and giving you a sad smile.

Making a quick decision, you decide that the best way to handle his blues will be with some cuddling. Striding over to the couch, you lean forward and press a quick kiss to Llewyn’s temple, before climbing to sit behind him.

“What are you doing?” He says it with a slight laugh as you adjust yourself to get comfortable. You finally end up with your front pressed against his back, your legs on either side of him, your arms wrapped around his stomach, and your head resting between his shoulders.

“You looked sad. I thought you might appreciate some affection.” You told him, honestly. He stiffens against you and you’re worried that you’ve pushed too far, when one of his hands comes to squeeze yours. He holds like that for a few minutes, just taking in your warmth, before he goes back to strumming. The two of you spend the rest of the evening like that and you doze off against him. When you wake the next morning, you’re surprised to find yourself in your bed. Llewyn is nowhere to be found but you do find a note on your counter that just says thank you. You smile to yourself and get ready for your day.

~

It’s several days before you see Llewyn again. You’re sitting sideways on your couch, with your back to the window and your legs crossed, when you hear the key scrape in the lock. You bring your book up to hide your smile and when Llewyn strolls into the room, you greet him happily. He seems nervous though and you eye him with concern.

“Can I ask you something?” You raise your eyebrows but nod. “Why did you give me a key?”

“Because I’m not always home and I want you to be able stay whenever you need or want to.”

“Whenever I want to?” You’re starting to get where he’s going and put your book down, giving him your full attention. 

“Llewyn, that is your key. You are welcome to stay here whenever you want for as long as you want.” You watch the way he thinks it over, not quite wanting to believe what you’re saying. You give him an encouraging smile and he seems to set his shoulders, almost like he’s preparing to receive bad news.

“If I…if I wanted to stay here permanently, would that still be okay? I would help pay for groceries and utilities and rent! And it doesn’t have to be permanent or anything! Not that I wouldn’t want it to be and and not saying that I do want it to be but I just-” He’s not taken a breath since he started and you quickly cut him off to prevent him spiraling.

“Llewyn. Will you move in with me? Permanently?” He looks at you with wide eyes. You just keep your encouraging smile in place and wait for his response.

“Are you sure?” His voice is small and scared, like he thinks you’ll really tell him no.

“I’m positive. Now will you come sit with me and play?” You ask him, sweetly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

But Llewyn is grinning and he walks over and places a kiss to your forehead, sending the blood rushing to your cheeks. He pulls his guitar out and sits down on the couch but looks at you thoughtfully.

“What is it?”

“Can I…can I show you some affection too?” It’s a callback to what you told him the other day and you laugh but nod. You’re thinking he’ll just give you another chaste kiss but are pleasantly surprised when he lays down and puts his head in your lap, looking up at you.

“Is this okay?” He whispers it, once again expecting you to turn him away and surprised again when you nod.

“As long as I can run my fingers through your hair. That’s the trade off. You use my lap as a pillow and I get to touch your hair.” He looks shell shocked but nods and your fingers bury themselves into his dark locks. He immediately groans at the sensation but quickly blushes and tries to apologize. 

“Shush, sweet man.” You silence him immediately and continue running your fingers through his curls. The two of you sit like that for a bit, before Llewyn remembers the guitar in his hands and begins to play.

That’s how the two of you begin to spend your evenings together. You sitting up with your fingers buried in dark hair and Llewyn laying down, gazing up at you and wondering if his luck had finally turned.

[l8rs-gat0rs]

Old Friends

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x Female Reader

Warning(s): Smut, specifically cock warming. A dash of Fluff. Y/n use

Summary: (kinktober 2022 repost) An old friend knocks on your door extremely early in the morning looking for a place to stay. And who are you to say no to him when he looks like a sad puppy?

Word count: 1.9k

~~~~~~ 18+ MINORS DNI~~~~~~

I awoke to rapid knocks at my door and I groaned checking the time.

"it's 2 am what the fuck..." I said alarmed at the presence of someone at my door at this time.

I was suddenly very alert, and I grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter as I approached the door to my apartment.

the knocks came again causing me to start to hold my breath in fear.

"Who is it!?" I called out

"it's Llewyn a muffled voice came from the other side of the door."

I dropped my hand that had the knife in it and groaned loudly opening the door.

"woah is that a knife?" He asked, his eyes shooting down to my hand.

"yes, and I was about to stab you because what the fuck Llewyn? it's 2 am." I said annoyed.

"I know, I know, I just got back to New York after auditioning for a gig in Chicago and I need a place to crash for a couple days, then I'll be out of your hair I promise." He said quickly looking very tired.

"ugh fine, you're lucky we've known each other for so long." I groaned, opening the door wider to let him in.

He gave me an embarrassed smile as he walked in and mumbled a "thank you"

Llewyn and I have been friends since we were kids and I always regret not keeping in touch with him more in our adult years. But our lives took different paths, I became a nurse after doing years of college, med school, and residency, and he focused on his music career.

He placed his guitar case and small suitcase next to my couch and sat down taking his scarf and tattered shoes off.

I felt a sharp pain in my heart at the sight of him. He looked so worn out.

My cat Toast, walked up to him and started purring and rubbing himself against Llewyn causing Llewyn to smile and bend down to pet Toast.

"Hey Toast, nice to see you too. You're so big now Buddy!" he said fondly.

I was honestly shocked he still remembered Toast, he was just a kitten the last time Llewyn saw him. I smiled at the sweet interaction.

"Can I get you anything? Water, coffee?" I asked him.

"Some water would be nice"

"Alright I'll be back" I said.

I went to the sink and grabbed some water, handing it to him and then sitting on the couch next to him.

"so what's up with you? where have you been? it's been a while." I asked him.

"Nothing much, same old same old." he said softly.

I cleared my throat awkwardly as he sipped his water and I looked at him, taking in his appearance.

He was just as handsome as the last time I saw him, if not more, the harsh conditions of life seemed to be beating on him but I was grateful he was still here and kicking back at life after what happened with...

I shook my head and sighed.

I didn't feel like re-kindling my old childhood feelings for the man so I sighed and got up.

"I'll get you a pillow and a blanket, the couch is a pullout, just move the coffee table to a side." I said to him.

He nodded, rising to his feet as well and he started to move the coffee table.

I went to my room and grabbed a pillow and went into my closet, grabbing a blanket before making my way back to the living room.

"Here ya go Llewyn." I said handing him the pillow and blanket.

He smiled at me graciously and grabbed the blanket and the pillow , placing it on his makeshift bed.

I stood there awkwardly while he set it up and he sat down on the pullout and looked up at me.

I looked away quickly as I started blushing and rubbing my neck.

"Alright well, I'm gonna head to bed." I said turning around to go back to my bedroom.

I felt a hand grab my arm and I stopped and turned around, locking eyes with Llewyn.

My heart started beating rapidly and I held my breath, getting lost in his sad brown eyes that held so many different unreadable emotions right now.

"Hey, it's really great to see you again y/n." He said.

"Same here." I breathed out before slipping my hand out of his and quickly speed walking to my room and closing the door behind me.

I pressed my back against the door and slid down, putting my head in my hands.

Holy fuck, so much for pushing the feelings away...

After a minute, I let out a deep breath.

He's only a man y/n calm down.

I chuckled softly at myself before slipping under the covers back into bed.

I drifted off to sleep, he would probably be off to some gig tomorrow morning and I won't even be seeing him...

I woke up, yet again, to soft knocking on my door.

I raised my head and groaned, checking the clock again.

4am.

Really Llewyn???

"Come in!" I groaned out, and I heard the door open to an apologetic Llewyn silhouetted by the moonlight coming from my window.

His hair was Tousled from sleep and he seemed to be shivering and rubbing his arms.

"H-hey it's pretty cold in your apartment and that blanket doesn't really seem to be helping." He said with a slight laugh.

"Oh fuck I'm so sorry, I forgot the heat was broken, the guy is coming to fix it tomorrow. That's why I have two blankets" I said facepalming myself.

"Uhhhh" I said trying to think of a solution.

The only one that seemed to be logical was....

No.

But I can't let him shiver, look at him, he looks like an abandoned puppy!

I fought back a groan and went against all my screaming instincts.

"Why don't you come sleep with me? There's plenty of room" I said sitting up and patting the empty space in bed next to me.

I quickly started to backtrack at the phrasing of my sentence.

"I-I mean not like sleep with me like, I mean sleep in the bed with me, you know? To like, conserve heat and it's warm and-" I started to ramble before he cut me off with the raise of his hand.

"It's okay, and I know what you meant" he laughed.

I blushed and smiled at him sheepishly.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, I can pull through till the morning, I'll put my coat on." He said moving to leave and close the door behind him

"No wait!" I said reaching a hand out into the air and he froze, turning around. With his hand still on the doorknob.

"I'm not uncomfortable, I promise, please come here." I said softly.

He let go of the handle and walked back Into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you." He said as I lifted the covers for him to slip under

He laid down on his back and I did as well.

"Alright goodnight." I said, breaking the tension.

"Goodnight" he said back Into the darkness.

A few minutes later, he spoke up again.

"Hey y/n?" He asked

"Yeah what's up, you still cold?" I asked him with my eyes closed.

"Nah, I just wanted to ask you something." He said, his voice getting softer.

"Yeah, what is it?" I said sleepily.

"Jim told me you used to like me." He said hesitantly.

My eyes shot opened and my head turned to him.

"He told you what!? I'll kill him I swear-" I said panicked.

"Hey hey calm down, it's okay! I kept bugging him about it, it's not his fault." He said quickly. Turning onto his side and placing his hand on my shoulder.

My skin burned at the touch and I quieted down.

"I just wanted to know if you still felt the same way, because..." He said trailing off.

"Because?" I asked, holding my breath and searching his eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, for some type of answer.

"Because I like you y/n. I always have." He finished.

My breath escaped me and I slapped my hand over my mouth and looked at him.

"Please say something y/n." He said grabbing both my hands and squeezing them.

"Did I just ruin our friendshi-" I cut him off, letting go of his hands and cupping his face in my hands, kissing him passionately.

When I separated from him, we both panted softly and pressed our foreheads together.

I giggled lightly and he chuckled softly.

"Yes Llewyn, I still like you." I said. Rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. It was such a beautiful sight.

He captured my lips in a kiss again and I pressed my body closer into his.

He deepened the kiss and I melted into him, wrapping my arm around him, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible

That's when I felt his bulge against me and I gasped when I shifted my leg against it and he moaned into my mouth.

"Fuck I'm sorry I-" he started to apologize, but I cut him off.

"No no, it's okay. I want you as close as possible right now, I never want you to let me go." I said.

"I'll never let you go sweetheart." He said sincerely, and my heart fluttered at the pet name.

"I want you inside me." I said softly against his lips.

He nodded as he choked back a groan, understanding exactly what I wanted.

I pulled my pants and underwear down under covers and he did the same, tossing them across the room.

I turned so my back was facing him and pressed my body against his. He led his hand down to where I needed him most, where I was aching for him, and he delicately touched the pads of his fingertips to my clit causing me to let out a moan.

He slowly moved his fingers up and down, Occasionally  slipping his fingers inside me just a little.

"Llewyn please." I whimpered for him.

"Alright princess." He said removing his fingers from me.

I felt him slowly start to rub himself up and down, covering himself in my wetness as well as his own precum. He panted softly before lining himself up with me and slowly starting to push himself inside me.

My gasp of surprise at his size soon turned into a languid moan.

He slowly slid himself all the way inside me and he stayed there, inside me, wrapping his arms around me.

He groaned as my walls clenched around him, adjusting to his size and I let out a whimper.

As we lay they together, connected at the hips I sighed softly.

"I've never felt more warm." He said, causing my heart to explode.

"Llewyn?" I called out as he kissed my shoulder softly and played with my hair.

"Yes baby?" He said gently.

"Please don't leave in the morning." I pleaded, wanting to wake up with his warmth sounding me inside and out.

"I won't." He said reassuringly.

"Promise me." I said.

"I promise I won't leave you. Not today, not ever." He said.

I hummed, satisfied with his answer, and drifted off to sleep with his body curled around me. 

[freelancearsonist]

"are you wearing my shirt?" + Llewyn?

(so happy you're back hehe)

omg i love this one 🥺 thank you so much for sending this in and thank you for your kind words, it’s so good to be back 🩷

warnings: just fluff, one mention of period typical sexism (not llewyn), reader wears a nightgown, reader is a total introvert no i’m not projecting

Llewyn has a habit of showing up on your doorstep when you least expect it, maybe because he knows you’re too nice to turn him away. He never outstays his welcome—he has a keen eye for when you’re starting to feel a little suffocated and need your privacy back. After all, your shoebox of an apartment was definitely not made for more than one person—and that’s exactly why you chose it in the first place. As much as you love having friends and family around you, you very much value your solitude and need breaks from people on a regular basis.

So it’s strange that Llewyn’s been here for six nights in a row when his previous longest stay was three. And it’s even stranger that you’re not craving alone time the way you normally would be at this point. You like being around him, like having his gorgeous face to come home to every night. Especially with the long shifts you’ve been having to pull ever since your landlord raised the rent. He’s definitely a good listener, and he doesn’t mind you rambling about a horrid customer you had to deal with or the way your boss has been making inappropriate comments to all the women on staff.

The only bad thing is, these long shifts are leaving you with less and less time to get chores done. He hasn’t mentioned it, but Llewyn has been trying his best to help out around the house—washing the breakfast dishes after you realize you’re running late for work, restocking the fridge with your favorite wine when the bottle gets low, and generally trying to tidy up after himself. You’ve noticed the effort, and it makes your heart warm. He’s never tried so hard before, but it’s almost like he’s trying to impress you. Like he wants to take care of you.

You try not to get your hopes up, because Llewyn has been an infrequent house guest for the better part of three years and he’s never once shown any sign of romantic interest in you. Still, you can’t help the little crush you’ve been harboring. It’s hard not to fall for those sweet brown puppy eyes of his.

He’s a goddamn menace, and you love it.

You don’t realize you’re out of clean clothes until it’s too late. Thankfully your closet dries up on a Saturday that you don’t have to work, so you finally have time to do the laundry and catch up on a few other chores that need doing.

You’re about to say fuck it and rewear some dirty clothes, but there’s a few problems with that. One, working shifts in a diner is sweaty work and none of your clothes smell particularly appealing. Two, the man you would fall on your knees for is currently asleep on your couch and you don’t want to look anything but your absolute best around him—and that means skimpy shorts and loose-neck shirts, because what’s the harm in giving him something nice to look at?

You pad down the hallway in your nightgown, a threadbare garment that you would really rather not have him see you in, but there aren’t many other options. At least it doesn’t smell like you just dug your way out of a grave.

As you’re doing your best to load up the washer without making too much noise, you realize there’s a load of clean clothes in the dryer. Hardly able to believe your luck, you start digging through the load for something presentable to wear. But these fabrics are all unfamiliar, and your heart quickly sinks. These are Llewyn’s clothes, not yours.

So, you can stay in this ratty nightgown and pray that you somehow get a load of laundry through the washer and dryer before he wakes up. Not likely, considering the fact that it’s rare for you to wake up before him anyway and it’ll probably be a matter of minutes before he’s up.

Or, you can borrow some of his nice clean clothes, thank him profusely, and re-wash them for him once your load is done.

The choice seems obvious.

You find the perfect shirt right on top—a long button down that lands about mid-thigh at the longest part of the hem and covers just enough to not be a complete scandal. With your hair mussed up and the top two buttons undone, you look downright sexy.

You’re just starting the machine when Llewyn pads down the narrow hallway, stopping short at the door to the bathroom when his sleep-clouded eyes land on you.

You’ve never seen anyone’s pupils expand so rapidly, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Is that… are you wearing my shirt?”

You try to play coy, but you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that this is the pinnacle. There’s no getting out of this one, no way to keep pretending your feelings towards him are merely friendly. It’s terrifying and relieving all at once.

“Yeah, I umm… I didn’t have anything clean left. I’ll wash it for you when I’m done.”

He takes a step closer, and you can’t help but notice the way his chest heaves under that tight white tee of his.

“It looks good on you. Too good.” He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the soft warm of his breath on your face.

“Too good?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the way your voice trembles just a little bit.

“Yeah. You’re gonna have to take it off.”

That’s when you feel his hand, slowly making its way up your arm to toy at the fabric where the collar opens around your neck.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you say, “Make me.”

And that’s all it takes for his lips to crash against yours, mere moments before he makes good on your challenge.

[coldbrewgf]

thank you for the tag @newbromantics ☺️ i'm finally getting to this after several days omg

1. do you make your bed?

usually! not super well but i at least try to pull the covers up and fluff my pillows

2. favourite number?

11... when i was playing soccer as a child i was number 11 when i made a goal from half field and ever since then it's just been my lucky number

3. what’s your job?

i just started one (1) month ago as a program assistant in executive education. it's been a bit of a wild ride already but i feel like it's going to open some good doors for me!

4. if you could go back to school, would you?

...perhaps. i would love to expand my knowledge and maybe take another undergrad program in something that i would actually want to pursue now but also looking back on my undergrad i was somewhat miserable and maybe that had more to do with my mental health at that time but still. maybe if i could just do it slowly with a course or two at a time

5. can you parallel park?

i can but i am not efficient at it and i try to avoid it if i can. if i'm parking on the street i look for a spot where i can just pull up to the curb and not deal with all that maneuvering

6. do you think aliens are real?

i mean i think they're out there somewhere but i don't think that they're like among us or anything...

7. can you drive a manual car?

not at all, i don't even think i know anyone with a manual car to practice. i do think it's kind of a sexy skill to have though and i would like to learn eventually

8. guilty pleasure?

honestly i'm only half guilty about it but musicals. only half guilty because i know theatre kids are annoying but i also am not an annoying theatre kid, and also because i think i have at least Some Taste

9. tattoos?

i have 8! various things that i've liked and are special to me in different ways

10. favourite colour?

probably green, but i also wear a lot of blues, so one of the two!

11. favourite type of music?

honestly my tastes range all over the place, probably most often in the indie category. lyrics matter a lot to me so regardless of the genre if the lyricism is there i'm there. a banger can entice me more than a slow song, but if i'm in the right mood a ballad can hit.

12. do you like puzzles?

yes!! nyt games is my friend and i do the new yorker crossword... if i remember i play the cinematrix... i went through a big sudoku phase a little while ago...

13. favourite childhood sport?

i played soccer as a kid, and that was kind of my only team sport, but i also did karate which i have fond memories of, and playing badminton in gym class was always my fav

14. do you talk to yourself?

not really i don't think?? maybe a little bit but not constantly

15. tea or coffee?

coffee... i mean look at my url

16. first thing you wanted to be when growing up?

a paleobotanist like ellie in jurassic park... my older brother wanted to be a paleontologist and we both loved jurassic park so i thought i had to be like ellie

17. what movies do you adore?

fav of all time is my own private idaho (1991), my others in my letterboxd top 4 are when harry met sally (1989), twin peaks: fire walk with me (1992), and before sunrise (1995)... movies from this century are like inside llewyn davis (2013), stoker (2013), and emma. (2020)

i'm tagging @intrusivethoughtsandprayers if you want to, and anyone else who does :)

[myfandomlikesandstories]

Ugh this is so cute!!! 🥰

keys

llewyn davis x reader

tiny short fic for my wet cat boyfriend llewyn<3

summary: you ask llewyn to officially move in with you.

warnings: tiniest bit of angst, mentions of being broke. it's barely there

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, uhh it's just sweet idk what to tell you

word count: 0.8k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

Llewyn is standing, leaning against the kitchen counter, almost sitting on it, his hands gripping the edge of it. He sighs and rolls his eyes as you walk up to him handing him a small box, and he feels a bit guilty that you seem so excited about it when he is not really. 

“What for,” he exhales as he takes the box from your hands and shakes his head. “You didn't have to.” he declares sternly, an almost scolding look over his face. Where some people say this just to be polite, Llewyn means it. You didn't have to.

“Open it!” you urge him, raising your eyebrows, biting down onto your bottom lip in apprehension and excitation. He sighs once again as he looks down at the tiny box in his hand.

“Come on, you know I don't like gifts, now I feel like I owe you something” he frowns, looking back up at you. 

It's your turn to sigh in impatience as you put your hands on either side of his neck, pulling him closer to you so you can press your lips against his and get him to stop complaining; it’s one efficient way to stop him from talking back. He hums against your mouth, his free hand instinctively shifting to rest against your hip. 

“Shut your mouth and open the damn box” you order him in a scolding whisper as you pull away, leaving him chuckling softly.

He licks his lips as he finally lifts the lid of the box, discovering a key inside.

“What is that” he frowns, looking up at you.

“It's a key, dumbass.” you scoff, shrugging. 

“I know what it is.” 

A heavy silence settles in the room, and it makes you confused. Llewyn takes the key out of the box, his expression unreadable as his gaze shifts from the small object to you. “Why”

“I want you to move in with me. Like, officially. No more couchsurfing” you declare. Even though you were a couple and Llewyn was spending most of his time at your place, he sometimes felt like he owed you and needed to give you space, crashing at the Gorfeins or at Jim and Jean’s from time to time. 

“This doesn't change much, you're already basically living here anyways. But now it's official, and you have a key, so you won't have to get in through the fire escape when I'm not home” you add tentatively, trying to read over his face whatever he feels at the moment. 

His silence is starting to make you anxious, starting to make you regret your decision. Maybe he’s not ready, maybe he doesn’t want this yet, maybe he doesn’t want this at all. You have never really talked about this, about anything regarding your future together.

“Yeah I figured but,” he finally starts, staring at the key in his hand. “It’s just… I can’t pay rent, angel.” he sighs, looking back at you with a miserable expression over his face.

“I know,” you huff out, relieved that it seems to be his only issue. “I’m not asking you to. You’ll help whenever you can” you nod. “I just want to lift this weight off your shoulders” you explain, your hand sliding to link with his.

“Like I said, it’s barely changing anything” you mutter under your breath.

He nods back at you, looking back at the key in his hand before putting it on the counter. 

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise slightly. “Okay what? Okay you’ll live with me?”

“Yeah.” he smiles, his hands setting at your waist. “I’ll live with you.” he nods, pulling you closer as his arm wraps around your shoulders, peppering small kisses over your temple and forehead. 

“Good” you say, leaning into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad you’re okay with it”

He scoffs, pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been couchsurfing for years. It’s just a damn key but it means a lot.” he huffs out. “Don’t go thinking I’m sad about the thought of not sneaking in through the fire escape anymore.”

You laugh, “Your back will thank me” you smile looking up at him. 

“Jean will thank you.” he corrects, earning a scoff from you before you cup his face and press a kiss against his cheek.

He grins sweetly as his lips brush against yours, before full on pressing them against your mouth. 

“I'm glad you haven't grown tired of me yet. I love you” he says as he pulls away, his lips curling in a small, grateful smile.

“I don't think I could ever grow tired of you, Davis. I love you too.”

“It’s only a matter of time I’m afraid” he scoffs.

“Mh, we’ll see, then you’ll have to give back your key and beg me to even sleep on the couch” you declare, looking at him with pity.

“You’ll give me the couch treatment?” he gasps, falsely appalled.

“Oh that'll be if I'm kind enough to let you in,” you tease.

“Alright I think I liked you better when you said you couldn't ever grow tired of me”

—

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[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie Chapter 10

Chapter 11 of my Arthur Morgan x OC Fem Character Fic.

Slow burn romance, fluff and smut between Arthur Morgan and OC Savigne Ricci.

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/141919960

She lied on her bedroll, staring at the ceiling. There was somber chatter nearby as they had moved her tent temporarily closer to the others for safety, but she hardly heard it. She thought about the bullet whizzing by her head and her eyes instinctively found the hole in the tent fabric where light was beaming through from the campfire. She thought about that man's arm encircling her neck, chocking her and her hand cradled her neck. Then she thought of swimming up to consciousness as she was dragged off a horse, thrown over a shoulder and her hand glided down to her stomach as she remembered how it hurt to be hoisted like that. Then about Arthur kicking in the door and standing there, the light behind him almost giving him a halo, and her hand went down further before she flinched and retrieved it and turned to lie sideways. 

"What am I doing?" she mumbled with a tinge of frustration. 

The camp was dangerous. The peace and security she had here was breached and it was getting worse. There was danger from within and there was danger from without. Within weeks she had been assaulted  twice now - that was twice more than she had been assaulted in her entire life. 

Now that their hideout had been discovered by O’Driscolls, the gang had decided to move in the morning but that was small consolation for her as fundamentally little would change. Micah would still be here and O’Driscolls would still be out there. 

Maybe finally her self confidence had led her to a place she wasn’t equipped to handle. The more she thought about it, the more insane it seemed that she had drifted this far from her comfort zone, mingling with criminals.

Savigne knew that she had a habit of getting carried away when she had her eyes on a prize, of dismissing the cons and highlighting the pros. How else could she explain why she had bypassed a dozen other, saner options to end up here of all places - an outlaw camp? She had known some fellow orphans who got into a life of crime but it had been simple stuff. Prostitution, swiping jewelry, scamming folks, cheating in gambling and the like. These people were in a league of their own. They were rough and dangerous. They robbed trains, engaged in gunfights, killed without hesitation. There were some among them who were known to have done much worse. 

Her ambition to own her own home, the eternal dream of every orphan, had obviously clouded her mind. Was it time to cut her losses, swallow her pride and move on?

But then….

His hands roaming her body with confidence, carrying her, folding her, bending her, parting her; his mouth swallowing her moans, that hunger in his eyes, that sigh of her name in her ear…

Stop it! Think straight for once, Christ on a cross...

She shuffled to lie on her other side. 

He's just a man. There are millions of them in the world and only one of you. Think!

He wasn’t just a man, though. He was a man who had put his own life in danger for her. How many of those were there in the world?

Apart from a father she could barely remember, none that she could think of. The risk he took for her was so foreign, so novel of a concept, she simply couldn’t look away from it, fascinated by it. Maybe Arthur was the kind of man who would have done it for anyone, maybe it came natural and easy to him, maybe for him it was all in a day’s work and she was reading way too much into it. 

But for Savigne it was an extremely unique incident, something she simply had nothing else in her life to compare to. She had met some very generous people throughout the years who had helped her for no other reason than kindness. The sisters at the orphanage. Her old flame Llewyn who had helped her get that apprenticeship at the baker’s shop, even after things had ended between them. The baker himself, Mr. Stone, who had treated her like his own daughter and taught her everything he knew about the art of baking. Many more who evaded her memory at the moment. 

But never had anyone put themselves in danger, especially mortal danger, for her. Never had anyone killed for her. 

Especially given their history. A history that had started off acrimonious, leveled off to something like gruff comradery for a hot minute, and then had descended back to bitterness. She could think of a dozen reasons why Arthur Morgan could have declined to come after her today and not a single one why he actually did. It was perplexing, bizarre, outrageous, intriguing all rolled into one and she was mesmerized by it. 

Mesmerized by the rest of it, too. How she had wanted him at that moment. No, that was a lie. How she had been wanting him for far longer than that. Fantasizing about him in the safety of her tent, telling herself that it was nothing but harmless daydreaming. Why, she couldn’t fathom. How it happened, she didn’t know. It was madness, it shouldn’t be, but here she was. And here he was - saving her again. Fucking her again. She had asked for it but he hadn’t refused. Then again, what man would? She was back to square one, trying to understand why he had done what he had done and why she had done what she had done. Endlessly running in circles.

She left the next day earlier than usual because she was eager to get out of camp. They were packing the carts and preparing the horses. Her tent was small and easy to fold and she didn't have a lot of possessions. It was ready in minutes. They placed it into one of the carts and then she just stood around, not knowing what to do next. She saw Arthur looking at her several times but didn’t trust herself to interact with him. She had never been a good liar and was afraid to give away something if she spoke to him around others.

She rode to Saint Denis more apprehensive than she had been in years, her eyes scanning the hills for O'Driscolls. But nothing happened along the way and soon work did that wonderful thing work does: it took her mind off things. Of course, discounting the long report she had to give to Luther. 

"The hell kinda life ya livin’? Every week it’s somethin’ new with ya."

"I know," she groaned, refilling the sugar pots from the large container. "It's like I have crosshairs on my back."

"That ain't it," he mumbled around his cigarette. "It's because youse livin' with outlaws."

"Well yeah," Savigne admitted. "That too."

"No," he retorted. "Not that, too. Just that."

"I've saved a lot of money," she said defensively. 

"Worthless if you die.”

"I just need a little more. And then I can buy a place and..."

"So lemme see if I understand this," he interrupted, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and waving it at her, "Ya live with outlaws until you save money cause it's dangerous out there on yer own. Then you'll buy a place and live on yer own cause that's less dangerous than livin’ with them outlaws."

Savinge blinked. 

A few moments later: "I mean obviously I have to be able to defend myself..."

He gave her a long side-eye. 

"I would like to remind you that I'm taking shooting lessons," she added with a huff.

"Uh huh...How did that pan out when ya was kidnapped?"

"That's not fair, I didn't get a chance to use my gun!"

"Cause it got slapped out’o’ yer hand, ya mean."

She mumbled some incomprehensible things in return.

"Ya ask me, yer better off findin' a husband who can shoot than them lessons."

Savigne banged the container's lid shut a bit too forcefully. 

"I don't need a husband. I can do everything myself, thank you very much. Been doing it since I was a child."

 He rolled his eyes and returned to his station. 

"Maybe you'll marry this Arthur. He seem to know what he doin’. That's twice he saved yer hide."

She was placing the sugar container back into a lower shelf and got up so fast that she banged her head on a hanging pan. He turned around slowly, eyeing her with renewed interest. Savigne busied herself with cleaning the counter. 

"Somethin’ goin’ on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Woman, don' play coy with me."

"Listen you dirty old man, nothing's going on. Also, your steak is burning."

"They ask for well done," he said smoothly, not even looking to check. "And yer a terrible liar."

She huffed in annoyance and wiped harder. 

“Ya sweet on this guy or somethin?”

Her laughter felt forced even to her own ears. “The only guy I’m sweet on is you,” she said with an exaggerated smile and batted her lashes at him. 

“My my…”Luther drawled and grinned as he turned his back to her again. “Somethin goin' on alright. Somethin’ definitely goin' on.”

She ended her shift tired but happy that she was tired. Working kept her head above the water. She changed her clothes and took off her double cap and made sure her hair didn't smell like food, she hated smelling like food. Then she walked out of the backdoor and was startled to find Arthur across the street, leaning against the building with one knee bent, foot planted against the wall, smoking a cigarette and looking absolutely stunning. Her legs went weak for a moment. She forced herself to walk up to him and couldn't help the smile on her face.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Waitin’ for you." His eyes were more green than blue today but as magnetic as ever. Nobody had ever looked at her as fiercely as Arthur did and it made her heart quiver every time.   

"How did you know where I work?" she asked, a bit flustered.

"Hosea knew."

She nodded and looked away, still smiling.  

"Where's Cricket?"

She chuckled despite herself. Arthur had never called him anything but "the horse" before. "He's in that stable around the corner."

He crushed his cigarette under his heel. “Let’s go. I'll take ya to the new camp." 

He walked her to the stable to pick up Cricket and waited patiently as she petted him and saddled him. The horse was already washed and brushed and looked pristine. She climbed up the saddle and joined him as they rode out of Saint Denis, towards Rhodes. She disliked this region overall, the new location felt like a downgrade to her. But it was closer to Saint Denis, so there was that. 

“So I actually read about a new dish today,” she said after a while, feeling awkward in the silence. Arthur grunted to imply he was listening. “It’s called ‘canard a la rouennaise’”. She said it with flair (and probably wrong). 

“The hell is that?”

“It’s duck but you kind of use a press to extract the essential juices from roasted duck and then you make this sauce with Bordeaux wine and shallots, but it has to be Bordeaux because otherwise the flavor won’t be right and also never onions, it has to be shallots you know, shallots have this distinctive taste…” 

She counted the ingredients with her fingers and described the details of the dish but got sidetracked on how port and cognac are NOT interchangeable because of the properties of port and so on and so forth as they rode on, the sun waning on the horizon. 

Arthur just interjected with “That so?” or “How come?” which spurred her on to talk even more, jumping from one subject to another as was her usual way of talking – especially when she was nervous or excited. She told herself that she should shut up, that Arthur wasn’t probably very interested in the different varieties of mustard but then she thought that mustard rhymed with custard and decided to tell him all the different custards she could whip up and how they were totally not the same even though some kind of tasted pretty much the same. 

This went on for a good while until he veered off the road into the dimmer forest and she followed, trying to memorize the point of departure from the main road. But then he stopped abruptly, stuffed his hat into his saddle, jumped off and came around to grab her waist and pull her down. She trailed off from whatever she had been babbling about, looking around to spot the camp when his lips found hers in a hungry kiss. She froze with surprise for a moment as he walked into her, pushing her against a tree without breaking the kiss then immediately started down her neck, fumbling with the buttons of her blouse when her back hit the bark. 

"Missed ya," he whispered between kisses, his hands roaming all over her body. It had hardly been a day since their last encounter so this was a bit overzealous, but who was she to tell someone that it hadn’t been long enough to miss her? Savigne's eyes fluttered close as he suckled her earlobe and his hand reached into her blouse to palm a breast. 

"I…missed you…too," she managed, startled by how quickly she was aroused. It was electrifying, to be wanted, to be needed by someone like this. His lust was palpable, flammable and it made her knees weak to know that she was the reason for it. She had been desired by others, but that desire had been tame and gentle compared to this - his desire was searing, scorching, fuel to her own flame. 

He found her mouth again and she moaned into him as he pulled her blouse apart, his large hands cupping her breasts over her thin chemise, his thumbs drawing circles around her nipples. The same hands that had been soft and tender in touch when she had been fearful and apprehensive that first night, today eager and unapologetic. Moments later one of them dropped down to pull up her skirt and reach under her bloomers. 

"Could think of nothin’ else all day," was the hot whisper against her ear as his fingers brushed against her folds and she jumped with a gasp, feeling herself get wet already. 

She remembered how he had responded with discomfort when she, a stranger at the time, had grabbed his arm in Valentine. A reserved man around others, Arthur was a different beast altogether in private: direct, daring, feral. His boldness was magnetic; his hunger simple, honest and unabashed. He wasn't interested in pretending or playing coy games; he wanted her and he asserted his demand with remarkable confidence, and her body responded to this demand with a primal need of her own.

"But what if someone sees-" she heard herself saying, stunned by the force of her own thrill.

"Don' care." 

He captured her lips again, his tongue forceful and possessive. She unbuttoned his shirt halfway and ran her hand against his warm chest, his heartbeat like a drum against her palm. She moaned with surprise when he inserted a finger in her, moving it teasingly slow, his other hand kneading her buttocks as he pressed her against himself. She gave up on the rest of his shirt buttons and hastily unbuckled his gun belt instead. He curled his finger with deadly precision and she cried into his mouth, dizzy with need. The hard outline of his cock bloomed against her stomach. 

"Woman, ya make them sounds, I won't last," was his low chuckle, but he curled his finger again and her head thudded against the tree as she let out a long, deep moan. His hand cupped her as he continued pushing his finger slowly in and out. His other hand settled on her cheek to turn her face up to him as he kissed her breathless. 

He locked eyes with her, his blue gaze assertive as he brushed his lips against hers. “Unbutton me, little bird,” he mumbled against her lips. She shuddered at the casual command in his tone. Her face turned away in his palm, she reached blindly with shaking fingers. He suckled and licked her lips, watching her with hooded eyes. When her fingers touched the rough cotton of his shirt, suddenly his thumb slid over her wet clit and her hand momentarily fisted the garment as a wave of pleasure jolted through her. She gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pushing in his tongue to glide over hers before retreating again, back to suckling her lips. Her glare of irritation only amused him, curling the corner of his lips and crinkling his eyes. 

Savigne pressed her lips flat to deny him as her hand drifted lower over the buttons of his shirt, like a trail of little pepples leading her to the waistband of his trousers. His finger kept moving, coated with the wetness of her own desire now, the pace just slow enough to make her tremble with the friction. She felt the hard buttons of his trousers when he inserted a second finger and continued his rhytmic pumping. She exhaled with the increased pressure and bit back a whimper. Her fingers grasped the buttons and she fumbled to undo them singlehanded. He curled his fingers and brushed his thumb against her bud, forcing a moan from her and making her hand pause again. He was expecting it and pounced on her mouth, kissing her deeper, smugly pleased with himself.

Then the hand on her cheek turned her face away and his lips traveled to her neck, kissing and licking the sensitive skin under her ear. She sighed with relief when she finally managed to undo the buttons. His erection was hard against his trousers, tenting the fabric. His lips like circles of fire on her neck while he was seemingly occupied with kissing his way to her shoulder. But when she tried to reach in to touch him, he immediately curled his fingers in warning that she was overstepping what he had asked of her and she cried out from the pleasure, fisting his waistband in frustration. 

“Well done,” he whispered into her ear, playfully nibbling her earlobe. A part of her disgustingly rejoiced at the compliment. Another, more rebellious part of her wanted to fight him, to resist him. Her fingers curled around him over his pants and his breath stuttered as his hips involuntarily twitched against her hand. The next moment he curled his fingers just so, executing a slow and long slide against a spot inside her that made her eyes roll back and her hand reflexively left his cock and flew to grip his forearm. She panted, trying to come down from that sharp, unexpected cut of pleasure that he had managed to inflict on her, stunned by how well he already knew her body. He hummed in approval as if to remind her that he was in charge today and didn’t feel like sharing his power.

A moment later he stepped back and slid down her bloomers, crouching down in front of her to help her step out of the fabric pooled at her feet. His hands slowly came up her calves, then glided over her thighs, pulling up her skirt in their wake. She swallowed, her fingers combing his hair as his lips kissed a trail on her inner thigh while he rose back up slowly, kneading her legs before he palmed her buttocks to lift her weightlessly against the tree, then to lower her back on himself.  

They gasped in unison as he slid in all the way, throbbing inside her like another heart. She coiled her arms around his neck as he kissed along her collarbone and started to thrust into her, slow and steady. The rough tree bark scraped the back of her blouse as she brushed against it, but she barely noticed. The forest was silent around them, the only sounds their moaning, panting and grunting. 

In the distant part of her mind, bewilderment at her state - allowing herself to be fucked against a tree again. Moreover, by the very same man. He had claimed her that night as if it had been his god given right, and he was doing the same now. And just like that night, she couldn’t refuse or resist. It was one of those “How did I end up here?” moments in life - a forced arrangement that she had hated, or at least believed she had hated, turning into a willing tryst within mere months. 

She didn’t get to ruminate on it for too long because the heat of her pleasure was building like a sunrise - bright, inescapable, imminent. She panted into his neck, feeling powerless in her current position, completely at the mercy of his pleasure and his stupendous strength, holding her up as if she weighed nothing. Arthur angled her to go deeper yet and she cried into his ear which only seemed to drive him wilder, spurring his pace. 

"God…I'm close," she whined, shocked by her already approaching peak. She felt like she was on fire as his fingers painfully dented her buttocks while his hips bucked into her with increasing force. 

"I..." she stammered, bewildered, "I..."

"Come for me," he drawled casually into her chest as he closed his mouth on her nipple over her chemise and just like that, her back arched, her shoulders pressed against the rough bark, her hands clawed into his shoulders and she came at his bidding, crying her release. She felt herself clenching around him and that was his undoing as he followed her with a shudder and a long groan while she was still riding out her orgasm. Moments later her head fell on his shoulder as she panted, her inner walls fluttering against him. 

“I…” she gasped, dazed and confused by the power he had over her, by how quickly he had aroused her and how smoothly he had steered her and how she had obeyed his command without the slightest resistance. He kissed the corner of her lips and suckled gently on her neck. “That was…” she tried again when his lips interrupted her, now more languid and gentle as he lowered her to stand, pressing her against him with a palm between her shoulder blades. 

She leaned against him, breathless and somewhat stunned by what had transpired. It was a steep deviation from her former relationships where more often than not she had been the initiating party, the one who had held the reins of control, the one who had allowed herself to be touched and loved. She had been the one who had convinced her shy partners that she wouldn’t break, she had encouraged the timid ones to kiss her, she had urged the hesitant ones to undress her. She had reveled in their adorable veneration and she had praised them after, even if most of the time the sex had been disappointing.

Now here she was, spellbound by a man she hardly knew, undone with a word or a touch. A crack formed on her coveted sense of independence. What else would she do if he merely asked?  

She pushed these thoughts out of her head to pick on later as they dressed back up and climbed their horses. A comfortable, slack silence settled between them as he guided her back to the road. Twilight fell around them and they rode on for another quarter hour before his knuckles briefly brushed against her thigh as he passed her on the last bend. The trees fell away and suddenly the camp was there, in the open, surrounded by forest on one side and water on the other. It was actually quite beautiful. She would miss the view of the first one but she liked being on the water. The stars sparkled over the wide expanse of the lake. 

“I like it,” she said, over her shoulder as she heard him dismount. He grunted his agreement. She fished out two apples from her basket and fed one to Cricket, the other to Frost. They stood like that, close but not touching, petting Frost on opposite sides. She glanced up at him and noticed the ghost of a smile on his lips and the serenity in his eyes. 

Although she had seen his softer side once or twice, usually in passing when she had caught an interaction between him and Jack, the Arthur she had been living next to in camp for months had been cold, distant and hard. Mean, even. She remembered conversations between the ladies, chiding him (never to his face, always carefully behind his back when he was out of earshot) for getting drunk and harassing folks needlessly again. Conversations that she had barely listened to with an absent ear because she hadn’t been interested. Now it was obvious to her that he was one of those men who ran hot and heavy, building up steam until he found an outlet by punching or shooting someone. Or fucking someone, she thought to herself. In the aftermath there was a tranquility about him, a certain peace and contentment that she had begun to recognize. She gave him a small smile, grabbed her basket and walked off to find her tent and Arthur headed to his but didn’t quite make it before Dutch called out to him. 

“Everything went well?”

“Fine.”

“Seen any O’Driscolls?”

“No.”

“Son…” Dutch walked out of his tent and strolled closer as the phonograph behind him sang out an opera, “…are we good?”

“Sure.”

Dutch stood before him, looking into his eyes, then grasped the younger man’s shoulder. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“What’s this 'bout, Dutch?” Arthur sighed.

“Nothing!” Dutch threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Just making sure you know I mean the best for you.”

“Sure,” was the response again.

“You know I would have sent you after Savigne eventually that day.” 

Arthur waved it off as if to say it didn’t matter, it was in the past. 

“I’m just saying, I only wanted to check on our people first.”

“She is our people, ain’t she?” Arthur said drily before he met Dutch’s eyes. 

“Well I mean in a way she is, of course!” Dutch said before he took another drag from his cigar. “But then again, she pays to be here.”

“We all pay to be here.” 

“Not quite the same, don’t you think?”

“Sounds exactly the same t’me.”

Dutch watched him for a long moment and Arthur looked back, inscrutable. Something was different about Arthur and he did not like to see it. This man had been an unquestioning right hand since he was 14; whatever this was, felt new and out of place. It was almost like a late - very late - teenage rebellion. As if he had breezed by that phase unaffected when he was younger, but now suddenly was at the point where he was questioning his elders and drawing his own red lines. Dutch felt his influence on him slipping and every time he tried to regain it, Arthur seemed to drift further away. 

If his suspicions were correct, right into Savigne’s arms. He wasn't sure if this was simply just a phase he was going through and Savigne just happened to be there at the right time and the right place, or if she was at the root of it, but he resented it all the same. 

He was insulted by how blindsided he felt, by how quickly it had happened. She had been in camp for months and these two had moved around each other like planets in different orbits. Then suddenly something had shifted just enough for there to be a massive gravitational pull between them and he had failed to predict it. Dutch prided himself as a cunning observer and a good judge of people, but he had failed to foresee something so bizarre happening right under his nose.   

And now, for the first time since they had met, Arthur was drifting out of his sphere of influence. Now, when he needed him the most. His resentment about Savigne flared up again but he was careful not to show it. He tried a different approach:

“We never really talked about it…what you did to Micah,” he began and watched Arthur’s eyes sharpen, “It was…necessary, I understand that. But maybe we can agree that it was a little…overdone.”

“No,” Arthur said, his tone even as he held Dutch’s gaze. “We ain’t agreed on that.” This coldness, this open disagreement was baffling to Dutch and he struggled to keep his temper in check.  

“Son…”

“Listen Dutch,” Arthur said a tad impatient, and took half a step towards him. “I wasn’ joking. You keep that animal away from her or I’ll do what needs doin’ and put him down. Should have done it that day, ya ask me. He shouldn’ be here, he ain’t our sort.”

The hands came up again in placation. “He is a bit rough, I admit…”

“That ain’t it,” Arthur hissed, making Dutch look up in surprise. “He ain’t ‘rough’. He’s wrong and that’s plain to everyone but you.”

“You’ll come around,” Dutch mused after a long moment, pointing the tip of his cigar at Arthur. “You came around on Savigne, you’ll come around on Micah.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”  

“I mean you didn’t like her for a long time…” he watched Arthur’s eyes drift off again and knew he had hit a mark, “but now…it’s like you’re two peas in a pod!”

After the Micah incident he had suspected that something was going on between them, but it had been Arthur’s reaction to her kidnapping that had convinced him. That dismissive brushing off of his hand, that hostile, icy gaze when he tried to reason with him. They kept their distance within the confines of the camp and the fact that they were attempting to hide it was somewhat encouraging – at the very least it meant that it wasn’t as serious as it could be and he took solace in that.

Unfortunately Arthur didn’t rise to the bait. That too was new. Arthur had always been a simple man - easy to anger and easy to placate. But now he seemed more calculating, more careful around Dutch. It was as unmooring as watching a leal dog suddenly pick a new master. He felt jealous of the shift in devotion and resentful because he felt jealous, because he liked to think himself above such petty things.   

“Anyhow!” Dutch’s voice lilted up to imply that he was ready to move on. “I have a job for you. Could take a couple of days. I want you to go as soon as possible – tonight, if you can. Talk to John about it, will you?”

Arthur shook his head and turned to go back to his tent, displeased. Seemed like every time he had a few days to rest, Dutch grew an itch to give him work. He went through his flap and threw his hat on the table, then proceeded to sit on his cot and angrily take off his boots.  He tossed them away and lied down, one arm bent under his head. 

He thought about the incidents of the last few weeks and a picture started to emerge in his head. An uncomfortable picture he’d rather not see, but one he increasingly couldn't look away from. 

What would have happened if he hadn’t been here that night? Micah would have walked off scot free because Dutch would have backed his lies. “To keep the peace” he would have said later in private. His knuckles itched at the memory. “Should have finished the job right there,” he muttered to himself. 

And what would have happened if he hadn’t been here when O’Driscolls came? His gut told him that Dutch would not have sent anyone after Savigne. Hell, he might have even stood in the way of anyone who wanted to go, just like he had done with him.

It dawned on him then that he was reluctant to leave the camp now because he wasn’t so sure that she was safe here without him. 

Which led him to a curious notion: somewhere along the way his interest in Savigne, up until recently easily explainable as mere sexual attraction, had evolved into something else. He ruminated on this for a few minutes, puzzled and intrigued by it, but soon dismissed it because unlike Savigne, Arthur wasn’t a man who was prone to relentless self-introspection. There had been a time when he was uneasy and restless by how much space she took up in his head, but now that the desire was mutual, the conflict and tension had evaporated. 

He retrieved his arm from under his head and draped it over his face. He was tired but it was a good tiredness, the kind of fatigue a man felt after gratifying sex and he knew he would sleep well tonight.