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dameronscopilot · 1 year

Note

Asking Mitch Keller about his bullriding days turns into either him giving you a cock riding lesson or you showing him how good at it you are already

(i love the way you think, nonnie)

Just Like That

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: One thing leads to another during a conversation about Mitch's days on the circuit, and you find yourself straddling his lap as the ex-bull rider gives you the ride of your life.

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, cockwarming, praise kink

“Honey, no offense, but you’d get bucked right off.”

You cross your arms with a huff, and Mitch chuckles, mustache twitching as the corners of his lips curve upward in amusement.

Ever since you secured the weekly Sunday night performance spot at Bred 2 Buck—in which you regularly play a laid back acoustic set for the tail end of the weekend’s mellow crowd—you’ve fallen into a quick and easy friendship with the bar’s owner, Mitch Keller.

Following your set this evening, you had found yourself seated at the bar counter, absorbed in conversation with him about his famed bull riding days. And though you’d brought up the topic at hand partially because you were incredibly curious about his time on the circuit, you also did it for a much more self-serving reason: it gave you the opportunity to experience the way his blue eyes lit up with fondness upon recalling the memories, a boyish grin that left your heart fluttering in your chest tracking its way across his face.

When last call rolled around, your discussion was far from over, as you found yourself hanging on to Mitch’s every word (and each movement of his lips, if you were being honest) as he regaled a particularly harrowing rodeo story. And thus he’d invited you back to his place for the first time, which is how you now find yourself seated in his living room, arguing over your own potential merits as a bull rider.

“I feel like I’d last for a couple of seconds at least,” you protest. “I rode a mechanical bull once.”

“That…definitely ain’t the same thing,” he replies, running a hand over his beard.

Mitch raises an eyebrow when you stand up and stride over to where he’s seated on the couch, reaching out and plucking his hat off of his head, tossing it onto the coffee table behind you.

“Show me what it’s like, then.”

Hoping like hell you haven’t been misreading whatever’s been quietly simmering between the two of you for weeks on end, you climb into Mitch’s lap and straddle his thighs, letting your knees press down into the couch cushion as the skirt of your dress rides upward.

He goes still, clearly not having anticipated this particular turn of events, and his gaze bores into yours for a moment as he waits to see if you’re serious.

When you wiggle for emphasis, he darts his tongue out of his mouth, running it over his teeth as he grins, looking down and shaking his head. “You sure? Think I might be a little out of practice, darlin’. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

You catch the double meaning of his words, and some small part of you preens upon receiving this knowledge—the fact that, although many of the women that waltz into that bar do so with sultry hopes of going home with its handsome owner (something you quickly learned once you started playing there), success clearly hasn’t been on their side.

“Well let’s get you back in the saddle then, cowboy,” you smirk, toying with a lock of hair that’s come loose and fallen across his forehead.

Bringing his large hands up to tentatively rest across the tops of your thighs, he tilts his head to the side, appraising you. “You got that backwards, ‘cause you’re the one in the saddle tonight.”

He rocks his hips upward just enough to throw you off balance, amusement rumbling in his chest when you pitch forward slightly.

As you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to regain your balance, he tuts, “One hand. And it should be down here.”

Mitch takes one of your hands and places it over his belt, encouraging you to wrap your fingers around the leather. Remembering what constitutes a typical bull rider pose, you raise your left hand and let it hover in the air.

“Like this?”

The tone of his voice drips down your spine like molasses when he drawls, “Yeah, honey. Just like that.”

With his palms face down on either side of him, Mitch leans back and spreads his thighs slightly wider underneath you before he begins to roll his hips once more. His steady gaze remains focused on yours, watching the way you continuously fall out of sync with his movements.

“Move with me,” he instructs.

You heed his words, and as he begins to increase his pace, you fall into a smooth rhythm rocking in the cradle of his hips. But your focus begins to wane as you feel the evidence of his growing erection, the denim of his jeans pressing firmly into the sheer tights covering the wet warmth at the apex of your thighs with each and every thrust.

When Mitch ruts upward particularly hard, an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the pleasure that rockets down your spine. Unable to stop yourself, you tug hard on his belt as you grind back down against his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, starting to lose his composure.

Bringing his hands up to grasp your hips, he holds you tightly in place as he repeats his last movement, his heated gaze locked on your own. You thread your free hand into his hair, relishing the softness of his long locks for a moment before tugging his head backward as you take your turn chasing the friction of his shaft against your mound.

His mouth falls open slightly when do you so, and between one breath and the next, Mitch’s hands are cupping your face as he surges forward, lips seeking yours out in a hungry, belated kiss. The ache between your thighs begins to throb as his plush lips slide against yours, one hand sliding down to curl around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your exposed collar bone.

You let your jaw relax for Mitch when his tongue flirts with the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss, and at the feeling of his hand trailing down to stake claim over your lower back just above the swell of your ass, you desperately arch your body into him.

“Mitch,” you whimper, panting as he nips at your bottom lip.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks calmly, as if he’s entirely unaware of the way your slick arousal has begun to seep through your underwear, leaving a damp mark where you’ve frantically been rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

Fingers skating across his belt buckle, you cup his shaft and squeeze. “I want you to fuck me while you’re showing me how to ride you.”

Mitch smirks, pushing up the skirt of your dress and letting both of his hands encircle the bend between your hips and your thighs, thumbs teasing where your stockings are now sopping wet. He groans appreciatively, reaching out and pinching the material between his fingers.

“Think we’re gonna need to get these off first then.”

“Just rip them, I don’t care,” you whine, too impatient to climb off of him.

Clearly just as into the idea as you are, Mitch doesn’t hesitate to reach into his back pocket, flipping open his pocket knife. You sit still as he carefully grasps a fistful of the wet nylon, tugging it forward before slicing a hole into it, a fresh gush of arousal leaking into your underwear at the sight. He hooks a finger in your panties, and you shiver as the digit brushes against your folds.

“Hell, you’re so fuckin’ wet, honey,” he rasps, leaning forward to kiss you again while he slips his finger into your entrance.

The tension coiled within your gut squeezes tighter as he leans forward to kiss you languidly, adding a second finger and pumping them both in and out of your needy cunt. He swallows down the breathy moans that leave your lips, mouth moving with yours while you hastily reach out to take off his belt, tossing it aside before prying open his jeans.

He matches your moans of pleasure with his own when you wrap your fingers around his shaft, though the sounds briefly morph to amusement when you stop kissing him to glance down between the two of you with wide eyes. Your mouth begins to water as you drink in the sight of the long, thick cock in your hands, and your pussy aches with need at the thought of him splitting your tight little cunt open with it.

Unable to wait any longer, you lift your body and line yourself up with the tip of his cock. Mitch’s fingers press into the sides of your thighs as you hover above him, and he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes while you begin to sink down onto his shaft.

The living room is filled with a chorus of moans from your lips and his own as his cock slowly disappears into your body, inch by inch. Once his length is fully swallowed into the warmth of your cunt, he lets out a ragged breath, running a hand through his hair.

“You take me so damn good, sweetheart.”

Pleasure shoots down your spine at the praise, stoking the growing fire in your gut.

Leaning in, you let your lips hover over his as you murmur, “Now show me how a real cowboy rides.”

Mitch’s lips come crashing into yours, and he grabs your hips, pulling you upward as he drags his cock out of your channel teasingly slow, only to slam it right back in. You barely have time to cry out before he does it again, sending a numbing wave of pleasure through your body as he ruthlessly splits your weeping cunt open.

With one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping at his shoulder, you hold on tightly as Mitch begins to give you the fucking ride of your life, hips snapping up into yours at a brutal pace as he plunges in and out of your fluttering hole, your soaking wet cunt squelching with each pounding thrust.

Mitch’s cock is so goddamn massive, the steady pressure as he drags it through your inner walls has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes while you writhe in his lap. But it feels so fucking good. You’re never felt so full in your life.

You’re a moaning, whimpering, cock drunk mess, and he kisses you bruisingly as he reaches up to wipe away a stray tear that’s sliding down your cheek.

“You look fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough.

At that, the pressure building inside of you bursts in a gushing wave of pleasure, and you grab onto Mitch desperately as your limbs tremble with the force of it. Soft, warm praise falls from his mouth as he fucks you through your climax, the words a direct contrast to the way he roughly continues to ravage your sensitive hole.

On the edge of his own orgasm, Mitch goes to lift you off of him, but you remain firmly in place as you plead, "I wanna feel you come inside of me.”

He sucks in a sharp breath at your request, and you cry out when he obliges, driving the full length of his shaft deep into you once more. Fingers digging into your hip bones, Mitch’s cock pulses while he empties himself inside of you, hot ropes of cum painting your inner walls as he fills you with his release.

You collapse forward, leaning your head against his chest, and Mitch holds you tightly in his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you remain nestled comfortably in his lap, in no rush to move anytime soon—not even when his cock begins to soften in your channel, dribbles of cum leaking out of your sensitive hole.

—

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

» MITCH KELLER MASTERLIST

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST

#answers from the cockpit #mitch keller x reader #mitch keller #mitch keller smut #garrett hedlund fanfiction #tulsa king #tulsa king fanfiction #mitch keller fanfiction #dee writes

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readingbythestreetlights · 2 months

Note

"do people want barzal/keller? or barzal/keller/matthews?"

darlimg have you considered barzal/keller/matthews/marner? 👀

I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS!!

saw this ask last night but didn’t have the time to answer it, but it sparked inspiration so later i started writing the four of them (mitch included) in my notes app, and now i am OBSESSED and will be continuing to write them

#🫡🫡 thank u for ur service #💌#fanfiction #writing #mathew barzal #mitch marner #auston matthews #clayton keller

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campingwiththecharmings · 1 year

Text

*These weren't necessarily written and/or posted in January, but that's when I read them so lol*

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

🔥Aphelion (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @oscarseyebrow

Salt and Sky (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @clints-lucky-arrow

Pretending (or not) (Cassian Andor x Reader) - @dameronscopilot

Taking Flight (Modern!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

Undoing (College!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar

🔥Corner Booth (Din Djarin x F!Reader) - @magpie-to-the-morning

🔥Tender Loving Care (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @clints-lucky-arrow

Risky Kiss (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Tender (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

I'm Scared / 🔥Safe and Sound (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

You Are In Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite

Triple Frontier

🔥Illicit Affair (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥I’ll Be Back Again To Stay (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite

Home is a Person (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @tropes-and-tales

🔥Thank Me Later (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @writefightandflightclub

🔥Big Red Bow (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @villainvindicator

Fairy Godmother (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @tropes-and-tales

Home (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @bullet-prooflove

🔥Good Form (Benny Miller x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥Watercolor Eyes / Blocked by the Snow (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @psychedelic-ink

🔥Take Care (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @wyn-n-tonic

🔥Patience (Benny Miller x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

Moon Knight

Nocturnal | To Be Alone (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @moonlight-prose

🔥First Time (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @luvpedropascal

Cute Aggression (Steven Grant x Reader) - @kittyofalltrades

🔥Fast Lane (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries

Stone Heart (Steven Grant x Demisexual!Reader) - @magpie-to-the-morning

🔥Fire & Desire (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @marc-spectorr

🔥Friends (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @foreverinadais

A Sunday Kind of Love (Marc Spector x Reader) - @moonlight-prose

First Snow (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Forbidden Delights (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥Spirals and Skin (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @clints-lucky-arrow

Purloin (Marc Spector x Reader) - @laters-gators

🔥Say It Too (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @astroboots

🔥Gold Skinned and Eager (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @fettuccin-e

Tales Untold (Marc Spector x Reader) - @softlyspector

Egg Fried Rice (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

A Simple Misunderstanding (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Do You Want to Dance? (Steven Grant x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Ex Machina

Amende Honorable (Nathan Bateman x Reader) - @laters-gators

The Last of Us

🔥Mule (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @laters-gators

🔥Radio Static (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @foli-vora

🔥The Light is Blinding (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @writefightandflightclub

🔥Code Breaker (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @inklore

🔥Told (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @the-ginger-hedge-witch

Tulsa King

🔥Just Like That (Mitch Keller x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

The Bourne Legacy

Long Promised Road (David/Outcome 3 x Reader) - @nowritingonthewall

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you'd like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

#poe dameron x reader #cassian andor x reader #din djarin x reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #benny miller x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #nathan bateman x reader #joel miller x reader #mitch keller x reader #fic rec #loling over the fact that all the joel fics are smut 😂

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anotherimaginescollection · 6 years

Text

Imagines: In queue; Written; Still to write (8/12/17)

A/N: Due to the time it takes things to be published I thought that I’d try keeping an up-to-date list of how things are being done, updating it very Friday if possible; we’ll have to see how long I can keep this up for though (requests are normal, my gif ones are in italics) .

In Queue

December (Winter requests, at least one every day as well)

Teen Wolf: Melissa McCall.

Scream: Jake Fitzgerald.

The Walking Dead: Michonne (Headcanons).

Shadowhunters: Sebastian Morgenstern.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfiction): Nik D’Angelo.

Sherlock: Mary Watson.

Harry Potter: James Potter.

Suicide Squad: Rick Flag.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers.

Constantine: John Constantine.

Teen Wolf: Jackson Whittemore.

Wynonna Earp: Wynonna Earp.

Wynonna Earp: Doc Holliday.

Supergirl: Alex Danvers (One-shot).

Zoo: Mitch Morgan.

The Flash: Wally West.

Until Dawn: Ashley.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

Sidekicks and Criminals (OC, Supergirl Fanfiction): Archie Smith and Harry Oswald.

Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy: George Lovelace.

Batman Universe: Bruce Wayne.

Kingsman: Agent Whiskey.

Being Human: Nina Pickering.

Lucifer: Chloe and Trixie Decker, and Dan Espinosa (One-shot).

Constantine: John Constantine, Chas Chandler and Zed Martin.

Scorpion: Team Scorpion.

Doctor Who: The Master.

Kingsman: Harry Hart.

The Flash: Wally West.

Kingsman: Harry Hart (Headcanons).

Grimm: Nick Burkhardt and Monroe.

Shadowhunters: Magnus Bane.

Harry Potter: Lily Evans.

Shadowhunters: Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane.

Kingsman: Eggsy Unwin.

Teen Wolf: Lydia Martin.

Legends of Tomorrow: Sara Lance.

Supergirl: James Olsen (One-shot).

Lucifer: Dan Espinoza.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

The Maze Runner: Jorge and Brenda.

Teen Wolf: Theo Raeken.

Merlin: Gwen, Elyan and Leon.

Kingsman: Roxy Morton.

Misfits: Rudy Wade and Rudy Too.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

The Musketeers: The Musketeers.

January

Riverdale: Jughead Jones.

Now You See Me: The Horsemen.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

The Force Awakens: BB-8.

Legends of Tomorrow: Leonard Snart.

Riverdale: Toni Topaz.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Scorpion: Harry Quinn and Toby Curtis.

Sidekicks and Criminals (OC, Supergirl Fanfiction): Robbo Laverna.

Scream: Piper Shaw.

Wynonna Earp: Xavier Dolls (One-shot).

Shadowhunters: Jace Wayland.

Legends of Tomorrow: Lenard Snart (Trigger Warning: Abuse).

Sherlock: John Watson.

Constantine: Chas Chandler (One-shot).

Suicide Squad: Killer Croc.

The Flash: Caitlin Snow.

Supergirl: James Olsen.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (One-shot; part two).

Teen Wolf: Isaac Lahey.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (Warning: Car accident).

Wynonna Earp: Wayverly Earp.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers (One-shot).

Zoo: Abe Kenyatta.

Legends of Tomorrow: Kendra Saunders.

The Walking Dead: Negan.

Misfits: Nathan Young.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfcition): Kate Bastille and Ben Cox.

Nowhere Boys: Jake Riles.

Batman Universe: Dick Grayson.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (Headcanons).

Being Human: Hal Yorke.

The Flash: Barry Allen and Eobard Thawne (Third person).

Constantine: John Constantine.

Legends of Tomorrow: Ray Palmer.

Doctor Who: Bill Potts.

Lucifer: Amenadiel.

The Flash: Gypsy.

Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor.

The Gifted: John Proudstar.

Scorpion: Happy Quinn.

Grimm: Trubel.

Shadowhunters: Alec Lightwood.

Harry Potter: Nymphadora Tonks and Draco Malfoy.

Supergirl: Alex and Kara Danvers (One-shot).

Kingsman: The Statesmen.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Legends of Tomorrow: Zari Tomaz.

Riverdale: Archie Andrews.

Lucifer: Marcus Pierce.

The Flash: Lisa Snart.

The Maze Runner: Minho.

Teen Wolf: Derek Hale.

Merlin: Percival.

Rising Light (OC, Constantine Fanfiction): Nik D’Angelo.

Misfits: Alisha Daniels and Kelly Bailey.

Nowhere Boys: Felix Ferne.

The Musketeers: Aramis.

Shadowhunters: Isabelle Lightwood (One-shot).

Rogue One: Jyn Erso.

Teen Wolf and Shadowhunters Crossover: The McCall pack and Raphael Santiago.

Riverdale: The Andrews family.

Legends of Tomorrow: Ray Palmer.

Scorpion: Sylvester Dodd.

Suicide Squad: Chato Santana.

Scream: Brooke Maddox.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Shadowhunters: Luke Garroway.

Class: Ram Singh.

Sherlock: Greg Lestrade.

Shadowhunters: Camille Belcourt.

Suicide Squad: June Moon.

Class: Ram Singh.

Supergirl: Lena Luthor.

Shadowhunters: Meliorn.

Teen Wolf: Scott McCall.

Class: Ram Singh.

Wynonna Earp: Xavier Dolls.

Shadowhunters: Downworld Cabinet.

Now You See Me: Jack Wilder.

The Mortal Instruments: Magnus Bane.

The 100: Raven Reyes.

Constantine: John Constantine.

The Making of a Hero (OC, Nightwing Fanfcition): Teddy Kane.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Gotham: James Gordon.

Supergirl: Maggie Sawyer.

Being Human: John Mitchell.

Scream: Noah Foster.

Constantine: Jim Corrigan.

Constantine: John Constantine, Chas Chandler and Zed Martin (One-shot).

Class: April.

The Flash: Eddie Thawne (One-shot).

The Flash: Harry Wells.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

The Gifted: Lorna Dane.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Grimm: Juliette Silverton.

Written

February

Still to Write

February

Legends of Tomorrow: Sara Lance (Would include...)

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: Newt Scammander.

Supergirl: Kara and Alex Danvers.

Kingsman: Charie Hesketh.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers and the Superfriends (One shot).

Legends of Tomorrow: Zari Tomaz.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers and Maggie Sawyer.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

The Maze Runner: Chuck and the Gladers.

Harry Potter: Cedric Diggory and Neville Longbottom.

Merlin: Merlin.

Supergirl: Kara Danvers.

Misfits: Curtis Donovan

Supergirl: Alex Danvers.

The Musketeers: The Musketeers.

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

The Force Awakens: Poe Dameron.

Scorpion: Team Scorpion.

Riverdale: Kevin Keller.

Supergirl: Maggie Sawyer and Lena Luthor.

Scorpion: Paige Dineen.

Supergirl: Alex Danvers and Kara Danvers.

Scream: Audrey Jensen.

#Requests #Information

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marmie-noir · 24 days

Text

Bar Top Goodbyes

I struggled with this and idk why. This scene was what inspired the whole thing in my brain while watching the show the first time. I've given up on editing and double checking, so I am throwing this out and running away. If there are mistakes please forgive me!

TW: Smut. MxF smut, no protection, dirty talk, Mitch Keller.

“M’sorry, could you say that again darlin’?” Mitch asked, half asleep next to me at the small kitchen table. He was cute like this, sleep clinging to him like a warm blanket, making his movements a little slower and his voice full of that gravel that made butterflies go crazy in my lower stomach. His hair was still a bit mussed as well, falling over his forehead instead of held back by his usual hat.

“I wanna say goodbye to the bar today.” I repeated, watching him slowly process what I was saying.

He blinked before scratching his jaw, his other hand wrapped around a steaming cup of fresh coffee that he apparently badly needed. “Sunny,” He hummed, a little amused. “The bar isn’t going anywhere.”

“No,” I agreed, giving a little one shoulder shrug as he sipped at his coffee. “The building isn’t. But after the renovation it’s going to be different. Which isn’t bad, but I wanna say goodbye to it before men with sledgehammers go at her. Plus, we need to grab our pictures.” Last night at closing Mitch had informed everyone that Bred-2-Buck was going to be temporarily closed for renovations. He wasn’t sure how long, but he intended to pay everyone’s salary still, and our jobs would still be there upon the bar’s reopening.

Unlike the others I knew the bar wasn’t just closing for the renovations, that this went far deeper than slapping a new coat of paint on the walls and fixing that leaky faucet that drove us all crazy. That motorcycle gang was getting antsy, it was escalating, and Mitch wasn’t going to risk anyone getting hurt in any crossfire.

He let out another little hum, finishing off his coffee, the caffeine ever so slowly brightening his eyes and making him perk up. He worked late so it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t exactly a morning person, but I did appreciate how long it took him to actually wake up.

“That is a good idea, better grab some stuff before we forget.” He said, deep voice rumbling in the kitchen. “We can swing by Maureen’s Diner on the way home and get more of those muffins you like.” “A perfect plan.” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his temple as I got up to go check on Pops and get ready for the day.

A little over an hour later Mitch was unlocking the back door to the bar, keeping his truck parked out back so it couldn’t be seen from the road. The large sign out front stated in big bold letters that it was closed for renovations, not another soul around.

I went towards the front as Mitch ducked into his office, flicking the lights on as he did so. I had the jukebox start playing on shuffle, wanting a little background noise, the volume low and the crooning of old country stars comforting with how familiar these songs had become since I started working here.

Busying myself with collecting our pictures and newspaper clippings I made a neat little pile on the bartop, not wanting to damage any memories. They would go back up after the reno, Mitch had promised as much.

In truth I had another reason for asking Mitch to bring me to the bar this morning. I hadn’t lied, I wanted to say goodbye to the place that had changed my life, but probably not in the way Mitch thought.

Tucking teh photos away into an envelope I pulled myself up to perch on the bar, glancing at my own reflection in the back wall mirror, the rows of liquor bottles not really obscuring anything. Because I wasn’t working I had opted to wear the other sundress I had bought while shopping with Ann but hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. This one was a cream color with a lilac print, delicate spaghetti straps holding it up, the skirt landing about mid-thigh. It made me feel pretty, and I need the boost of confidence.

Smoothing the soft fabric over my thighs I steeled myself. Yes, I had come to say goodbye to the bar, but I had also come here to finally seduce Mitch in the very spot we first met.

It wasn’t as though we didn’t know one another intimately at this point, but we had never gotten around to actual sex. At first I felt self conscious about that fact. Did he not want to, had I done something wrong?

Ann had been the one to reassure me. “Sugar, the way that man looks at you? I don’t think you could do something wrong. He’s a patient man, probably wants to make sure you are sure.”

And god was I sure. Since I met Mitch all I could do was fall more and more in love with him every single day. I had boyfriends before, even an ex-fiance under my belt, but no one even came close to making me feel how I did around him. No one could touch how happy I was falling asleep and waking up in his arms, cuddled up together all cozy and warm. Not to mention the way he touched me.

Mitch Keller touched me with a reverence that made me almost shy. His big hands on my skin while praise left his sinful lips. Pretty girl, good girl, his girl. So good for him, so perfect.

He rarely let me focus on his pleasure either, insisting on making me fall apart under him, on his lap, touching me in a way that made me see stars and had every thought flying out of my head. I was more than ready for this, my want for him bleeding more into a need weeks ago.

Shifting slightly where I was perched, already a little hot and bothered, I smoothed my hair one last time before deciding to just go for it. Pushing down the little anxious demon whispering in the back of my mind that there was a reason we hadn’t had sex yet I cleared my throat before calling out to him. “Mitch, could you come here please?” With only the jukebox quietly playing I knew he could hear me, reassured at the sound of his bots on the floor drawing closer. He appeared around the corner and flashed me a smile that I couldn’t help but return. He was carrying a box which he sat on the bartop, walking over to stand directly in front of me instead.

Mitch looked as handsome as ever, in one of those back t-shirts that hugged his biceps just right and showed off his broad shoulders. He had on dark jeans with his usual large belt buckle and boots.

He seemed to be in a good mood. I was worried maybe being in the bar would have made his nostalgic and a little sad but he seemed eager to upgrade the bar. With a familiar shine in his dark blue eyes his hands rested on my knees before sliding up the sides of my thighs, stopping just below the edge of my panties and rubbing reassuring little circles against the skin there.

“Have I mentioned how pretty you look in this dress?” He asked, leaning in and looking down at me with an obvious appreciation.

I tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, grinning. “Just nine times in the last hour.” I teased even though I probably wasn’t far off on the count. The moment I had stepped out of our room in the dress he had started to lay it on, giving me a little whistle. “Mm, can’t have that. Better make it a good, even number.” Mitch said with that little half smile on his lips, leaning down and brushing a few kisses down my neck before pulling back just enough to meet my eyes once more. “My girl, so pretty.” I was blushing but my grin never fell. Reaching out I hooked my index fingers into his belt loops and pulled him closer, chin tilted up in an obvious ask for kisses.He let me pull him closer, my legs parting to let him slot between my thighs. Giving me a teasing look with a raised brow Mitch didn’t say anything. He did reach up though, one of his big hands weaving into my hair and giving it a gentle tug, making me tilt my head up just a bit more before capturing my lips in a heated kiss.

Apparently he was taking advantage of our alone time, leaning into me a bit more as he kissed me breathless. His free hand slid from my thigh to my lower back, pushing gently to bring me completely to the edge of the bar, pressing our bodies together with a pleased hum in his throat. He felt so good, warm and solid, the smell of his cologne and tobacco making me whimper.

Breaking the kiss we looked at one another, both a little breathless. His hand in my hair moved down to cup the back of my neck, his thumb slowly brushing against the sensitive skin there.

“Did my pretty girl need something?” He asked in that honey tone, a ghost of a smile on his lips when he saw how much the kiss had gotten to me.

I blinked up at him for a few moments just taking in the way the low bar lights made him look. I had known meeting Mitch at this very spot not that long ago that he would become special, I just hadn’t been sure how. My fingers unhooked from his belt loops and instead a few of them brushed against that big silver belt buckle he always wore, one from when he used to ride. Glancing down at it a moment I wet my lower lip.

“I need you.” I said quietly, chin tipping back up to meet his gaze head on.

There was a moment of surprise before it melted into a heated satisfaction. “Me, honey?” He asked, voice low, head ducking down to brush our noses together as his lips ghosted over mine. “You need me?”

I nodded, eyes fluttering closed as I felt his lips trail along my jaw. The brush of his facial hair and his warm lips was a mix that had me sighing happily, one of my hands sliding under his t-shirt to brush my fingertips against the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his pants. “Please, Mitch.” “How can I say no when you ask so pretty?” He murmured against my skin, his teeth grazing over my jumping pulse as he’d now made it down the side of my neck. His hands came up, looping under the thin straps of my dress and slowly sliding them off my shoulders, the dress falling to expose more cleavage but not falling away entirely. He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, duck lower still as his lips and teeth found my collarbone.

I leaned back slightly, one hand behind me on the bar to steady myself while the other grabbed his hat, setting it aside on the bar top before returning to weave into his hair. He liked that, sucking a mark on my upper breast as he continued to trail further and further down until he hit the fabric of where my dress was still covering me.

“Been thinkin’ about this, pretty girl?” He hummed, pulling the dress gently. The one small tug was enough to have the fabric pooling around my waist, leaving my upper body bare before him. Mitch didn’t wait for my response, ducking his head and capturing one of my nipples in his warm mouth. I gasped, thighs squeezing his hips and his nipped and sucked at my breasts, his hands sliding back up my sides to cup them and squeeze gently. “Mhm.” I whined out, biting at my bottom lip as I tightened my hand in his hair. Mitch continued to kiss down my stomach towards where my dress was pooled, his hands sliding up my thighs now to push the skirts up. I pulled on his hair, hard enough that he lifted his head, surprise clear in his eyes as I’d rarely stopped him from going down on me.

“Everything okay, darlin’?” He asked, leaning up to steal a few chaste kisses from my lips. “Don’t want your mouth, Mitch.” I murmured, nipping at his bottom lip. My hands worked on undoing his belt as I lured him in for more sweet kisses, one working on sliding the leather through the buckle and the other palming him over the top of his pants. He was half hard already, the press of him against the denim and my hand making me smile against his lips. “What do you want?” Mitch asked between teasing kisses, both of us tasting one another, his hips pressing forward as I touched him. “I want you to fuck me on top of the bar.”

He groaned at my blunt words, his hands that had been slipping up my thighs grabbing at the sides of my panties. “Up.” I stopped touching him a moment to have both my palms flat on the bar top, using the leverage to lift my hips so he could pull my underwear off and into his pocket per usual. Immediately his hand was on me, two thick fingers pressing into me without any warning. I gasped, arms shaking, eyes going wide as I looked up at him. He gave me that heart stopping smile, thumb finding my clit and circling as his fingers pumped in and out of me slowly. The cool press of his rings against me had me gasping, back arching slightly at the mix of sensations. “So wet already.” He murmured, leaning down to kiss me again. I moaned against his lips, my own hands moving back to his waist. His belt finally was undone, the jingle of the buckle loud between us. It was hard to think when he was knuckle deep inside of me, those thick fingers curling just right, pulling out and thrusting back in with wet noises that would be embarrassing if I had enough brain cells functioning to form thoughts. But every push, every time his thumb circled my clit, had the new thoughts flying from me until all I could think of was Mitch. My hands were clumsy but I was determined. I undid his pants and he made no move to stop me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and sliding against mine. He tasted like sugary sweets from breakfast and minty toothpaste, a combination that had my hands pausing for just a moment before I was working his zipper down. I didn’t even tease, feeling a little desperate at this point. My hand slid into his boxers, wrapping around his cock and giving him a firm stroke. He moaned, low and quiet against my lips, and the sound had a shiver racing down my spine. My thighs tightened around his hips, heels pressing to his lower back, trying to pull him closer with a whimper as I slowly stroked him from blunt head to thick base. “Please.” I asked against his lips, the two of us stealing the other’s breath. His hand never paused between my legs, instead he sped up, forehead pressing to mine. “I need you to cum before I can fuck you, pretty girl. You are so fucking tight, don’t wanna hurt you.” I had no words, a desperate noise leaving me as the wet sound of his fingers fuckign into me filled the space around us, the low tones of the jukebox melting away as I looked up into his pretty blue eyes. My hand paused on his cock but he didn’t care. His pupils had nearly swallowed the iris, his hair a little messy from my hands early, lips parted as he watched me.

“C’mon baby, just one, and then I’ll fuck you on the bartop. You asked so nice.” He said, voice low and honeyed, making me tighten around him. Mitch knew I liked when he talked, the rumble of his words over my skin was the best. “Such a good girl for me, c’mon.” His thumb rubbed at my clit a little faster and I was done for.

I cried out as I came on his fingers, thighs shaking against his hips, my hands finding purchase against his shirt. He made a pleased humming sound, leaning down to press kisses against my neck and cheeks, pulsing around his index and middle finger with breathless moans and whimpers.

When I blinked my eyes open I found my back against the bar, looking up at the old ceiling tiles and panting. Mitch was leaned over me slightly, pressing kisses to my chest and throat, murmuring praise as I came back. My hands lifted to weave into his hair and he let out a quiet laugh that was pure male satisfaction.

“You okay, darlin’?” He asked, looking up at me with a little smile.

I pushed myself up, albeit a little shaky. Mitch didn’t poke fun, instead he helped, a large hand spanning my mid-back and helping me. I looped an arm around his neck, my other hand tugging at his shirt. “Off.” “Yes, ma’am.” He said, his smile immediate. I took my hands off him as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a pair of unzipped jeans, the imprint of his hard cock obvious against his boxers. I bit my bottom lip, excitement and impatience mixing with my blood. I looked up at him, legs hooked around his hips, pulling him closer in an obvious ask.

“I know darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.” He said, his hands pushing the skirt of my dress up so it was pooled around my waist and looking down at where I was wet for him. He kept one hand on my thigh, grabbing hard enough that my skin was indented slightly between his fingers, his other hand reaching down to push his boxers down.

Mitch Keller had a pretty cock. There was no other way to say it. Long enough to make my mouth water, thick with veins that I knew I would be able to feel. My lips parted, eyes lifting up to find him watching my expression. He moved me closer, perching me right on the edge of the bar, my legs around him. He rocked his hips, the length of him grinding against me and making me gasp, grabbing at his upper arms to steady myself. “Oh my god.” “You okay?” He asked, hand tightening on my thigh as he rolled his hips once more before pausing, giving me a moment to let my brain come back online. My lips parted when he moved but I took a deep breath when he paused, gathering myself before giving a small nod. “M’sure. Please, don’t stop.” I said, looking up at him.

Mitch leaned down and captured my lips in another kiss. This one seemed needier, as if my plea did something to him, his kisses almost hungry now. At the same time his hips pulled back, no longer grinding against me, instead lining himself up to slowly thrust into me. I gasped against his lips as he pushed forward, pushing in, the stretch more than his fingers even with how wet I was and how he had prepped me.

He took advantage of my gasp and kissed me deeper, sinking deeper at the same time, every thick inch stretching me in a way that had me clinging to him. Mitch kissed me like I was the air he needed, teeth and tongue tasting and teasing me, his breath warm and his lips soft. I felt his hands slide around my body to reach down and grab my ass, his chest pushing me further down on the bar top as he pulled out only to thrust back in hard enough to make me moan.

“Fuuuuck, my perfect fucking girl.” He ground out, teeth finding me neck as he started to fuck me against the bar, body half pinning me down, completely in control of every movement we made

All I could do was hang on and take it. One of my hands remained woven into his hair and my other found his back, nails biting into the warm skin of his shoulder blade as we both panted against one another. His own hands remained on my ass, tilting my pelvis slightly, ensuring he slid as deep as possible. I felt like I could taste him on the back of my tongue, my legs wrapping around his hips, heels pressing against his lower back as I felt each thrust hit deeper and deeper as I saw stars.

The wet sound of skin on skin filled the bar and I moaned, back arching off the cold hardwood, my dress stuck around my waist as his hips kept up their relentless pace. “Mitch- fuck, oh fuck please.” “There we go, I’ve got you honey.” He gritted out, voice taking a growly undertone that did something to me. Mitch saw that, he noticed every little reaction my body had, adjusting his angle slightly to ensure the blunt head of his cock hit my g-spot while his pelvis ground against my clit every time he bottomed out. “That’s it. Perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.”

He pulled back slightly to look down at me, his eyes dark with lust and unspoken affection, each thrust and his hips slamming into mine making my body jump slightly on the waxed surface. But he kept a firm hold of me, possessive even, hands tightening to the point of near pain that mixed with the pleasure and had me whimpering and moaning.

I knew I wasn’t going to last long, already sensitive from when he got me off with his fingers. My noises grew in pitch, eyes growing wide as I looked up at him. “M-mitch-” “Gonna cum? Good girl, give it to me. Wanna feel you.” Mitch’s voice nearly a growl at me, looking down the lines of my bodies where his cock disappeared inside of me, each thrust having the most desperate noises fly from my mouth. It was one of the most sinful things I’d ever seen in my life, the image burned into my brain for the rest of my life. One of his hands shifted to my thigh and then under my knee, pushing my leg up a bit more to adjust the position, pushing deeper.

He leaned back down and kissed along my jaw, unbothered as my nails bit into his back or when my hand tightened in his hair. “Where do you want me, Sunny?” My lips parted in a moan, balancing on the blade’s edge of an orgasm. My brain felt stuffed with cotton, skin warm and the feeling of our sweat slicked bodies moving together almost overwhelming with how good it was. I blinked up at him, eyes hazed, and he repeated his question with a deep grind, my thighs shaking around his hips. “Inside, please. Please, fuck please.” I gasped, the idea of him pulling out sounding like the worst possible thing I could ever imagine at this moment.

He apparently liked that answer, his pace picking up, the slap of skin on skin and our panting breaths mixing together. It didn’t take much longer before I cried out, face pressing to the crook of his neck as I reached my peak.

It felt like someone had set off sparklers under my skin, the pleasure a wave of tingling euphoria that had me moaning against his skin as I clung to him. Mitch was true to his word though, he had me, his chest against mine as he leaned over me and smothered my neck and jaw with kisses as he fucked me through it with soft praise on his lips.

“So good, sweet girl, I’ve got you- that’s it.” All of his words sounded far off but still comforting as I clenched around him, thighs shaking against his hips and back bowed off the bartop.

He wasn’t far behind either, his pace picking up a bit before going sloppy, each thrust grinding deep and making me gasp. “So. Fucking. Perfect.” Mitch groaned, each word punctuated with a thrust, his hands tightening on my body to hold me in place until I felt his cock twitch inside of me, a warmth blooming deep inside. He moaned, low and sinful, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he came, grinding deep in a way that had us both gasping.

The come down was warm, his body hot against mine as he relaxed and put a little more weight on me. His hand holding my leg up gently hooked it around his hip instead, rubbing at the joint to make sure any ache I felt wasn’t permanent. It was the brush of his facial hair against my jaw though that had me humming, arms looping lazily around his neck as I cuddled against him.

His arms wrapped around my middle to keep me as close as possible, skin to skin comforting as we both worked on catching our breaths. I made a content little sound and nuzzled against his neck. “You okay?” He asked, voice low and a little breathless, but sounding warm and pleased. I nodded, knowing he’d get me some water in a little bit. “Mhmm.” I hummed, feeling a little boneless. “All according to plan.” I said, voice a little dreamy as I pressed a kiss to his pulse.

Mitch let out a surprised laugh, leaning back and taking me with him. I didn’t tense up, trusting him as he lifted me up off the hard bar top, one arm around my middle and the other grabbing my thigh to make sure I wasn’t going anywhere. “C’mon darlin’, let’s get you cleaned up and take a quick nap on the couch in the office and then we will go get those muffins from the diner you like.”

I looked up at him as he carried me towards the office, taking in his flushed cheeks and mussed hair. I was sweaty and sticky and satiated, and the idea of a nap sounded like heaven right now. I didn’t respond but did lean up, pressing my lips to his for a soft kiss, pleased that my plan had worked.

More Sunny and Mitch here!

#mitch keller #tulsa king #fanfic #mitch keller fanfiction #garrett hedlund #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction #smut #mitch keller smut

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

Text

my ghosts are yours to keep

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: After nearly a year of skirting around your undeniable attraction to Mitch Keller, things finally come to a head one evening after the bar closes.

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk, voice kink, there’s absolutely an OSHA violation going on here

His voice is rough as he responds, his lips just barely ghosting over yours, “Because I’d ruin you.” “I beg to differ,” you whisper.

Something inside of you aches deeply whenever you look at Mitch Keller.

Beneath his easy, warm drawl and gentle demeanor, there’s so much pain and regret buried just below the surface, a lingering ghost that haunts each and every smile that crosses his lips. He doesn’t talk about it, not really. But you know it’s there, can see it in the faraway look that bleeds into his gaze when he thinks nobody’s paying attention.

But you don’t miss it.

You never do.

Mitch hired you to wait tables at Bred 2 Buck nearly a year ago when you sheepishly walked into the bar on a bustling Friday evening with your resume clutched in your hands. Following a catastrophic breakup, you’d left Chicago in a whirlwind and relocated to Tulsa with a car packed to the brim with all your belongings and no real plans save for a desperate need for a fresh start. He’d hardly finished looking over your credentials before he stood up straight from where he had been leaning against the bar countertop, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as he reached out to shake your hand and asked when you could start.

Initially, you’d only intended to stick around at the bar until you found something better. But Mitch was more than happy to give you as many shifts as you liked, and the tips you raked in—paired with the considerably lower cost of living in Oklahoma—left you well off enough that you decided you weren’t really in a rush to find another job. Not anytime soon, anyway.

And if your decision was also heavily swayed by your undeniable attraction to your boss, well, nobody needed to know about that.

Try as you might to ignore it, it’s impossible to deny the instinctual pull you feel toward Mitch, as if the broken, lonely fragments inside of you ache for the kinship of his own jagged edges. And it’s by no means conducive to your own self-preservation, but some nights, you start to think that perhaps Mitch might just feel the same.

You see it in the way he steps out from behind the bar counter whenever he spies you dealing with a troublesome table, brusquely waving off the bouncer and placing his own solid frame between yours and the unruly patron in question. It’s how he says your name afterward, tentatively resting a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re alright, his soothing drawl smooth as honey and comforting as the sun peeking through the clouds after a blustering, rainy day.

You can feel it in the protective weight of his gaze as he always finds a convenient excuse to step outside for a cigarette just as you’re heading to your car on late evenings when you close with him, his eyes tracking your moments until you’ve safely made it across the parking lot. He never finishes the cigarette; it’s always stamped out under his boot by the time your tires begin crunching across the gravel.

Perhaps you’re overthinking it.

Perhaps you’re just too far gone on the way his blue eyes sparkle with mirth when you make him laugh—it’s a deep, rich sound that makes your toes curl. On the way the muscles of his exposed forearms flex when he rolls up his sleeves to work, fingers dancing a familiar pattern across glasses and bottles. On the way his hair’s begun to curl its way out from under the brim of his hat lately. On the way your name rolls off of his tongue with what you swear is fondness sometimes.

Or something close to it, anyway.

Something that sets off a dizzying flutter of emotions in your chest each time he says it.

Perhaps you’ve just taken things a step too far in romanticizing the handsome, broken man tending the bar. You’d turn yourself inside out to show him how fucked up you are on the inside, too, if it meant he’d finally let you in.

It’s on an otherwise unremarkable Monday evening that you finally toe the line.

Mitch has been a bit distant all night, which isn’t necessarily out of character for him from time to time, but it nags at you all the same anyway. The bar is empty, the doors are locked, and you have a few tables left before your shift is finished when you decide to poke your head into the kitchen to check on him.

His back is to you, and he’s hunched over one of the counters against the wall, his hat lying discarded beside him. Waltzing up beside him and conscious to let your shoes tap loudly enough on the tiled floors to alert him of your presence, you hip check him as you come to stand beside him.

“Hey, I’m almost finished out there. Just wanted to see if you needed any help back there,” you say gently.

He doesn’t look up at you as he responds, “Thanks, don’t worry about the rest. I’ll finish ‘em up. Give me a minute, and I’ll walk you out.”

You take in the defeated tone of his voice, the tired slump of his shoulders. The way his fingers are desperately gripping for purchase on the steel surface in front of you.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Gruffly, he answers, “’M fine, don’t worry about it.”

But you are worried.

You’re always worried about him.

Carefully, you lay your hand over his. He doesn’t say anything, but when he glances over at you, his gaze is conflicted.

“Let me in, Mitch. Please,” you plead.

He looks back down at your hands.

“You don’t need my bullshit,” he mumbles, making to pull his hand away.

You squeeze, holding it in place as you counter, “I think I can decide what I want.”

Sliding your fingers up the back of his hand, you wrap them around his wrist, and Mitch inhales, but he doesn’t move. You lift his arm out of your way, slotting yourself between him and the counter, tilting your head to look up at him. The knot in your chest loosens at the feeling of him tentatively lacing your fingers together.

You reach out with your free hand, cupping the side of his face, and Mitch’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch and quietly laments, “I can get by most days, but sometimes I feel like I just suddenly forget how to block it all out. How to keep going.”

The honesty in his voice hits you like a ton of bricks. “It’s okay to let yourself feel it.”

He sighs, “’s easier not to, though.”

“I know,” you agree with a nod.

When Mitch’s eyes meet yours again, it’s with a burning gaze. You have your own personal demons you keep at bay day in and day out, and while you’ve only scratched the barest surface of sharing any of those details with him, he knows you’re hurting, too. He knows this is your way of telling him that you understand.

That you’ll accept him for all he has to offer.

For all he is and all that he’s been.

His expression is unreadable, so you break the silence as you ask, “What are you thinking about?” He bites down on his bottom lip, eyes darting to the ceiling as he breathes out, “Doin’ somethin’ I shouldn’t.”

His eyes slide back down to yours, your faces closer together than before, and you’re suddenly incredibly aware of the way you’re caged in between his arms, enveloped in the intoxicating, musky scent of his cologne.

“Maybe you should,” you counter, and you don’t miss the way he steals a glance at your lips.

His nose brushes against yours, his breath a warm caress on your face as he murmurs, “I tell myself every day not to.”

“Why not?”

His voice is rough as he responds, his lips just barely ghosting over yours, “Because I’d ruin you.”

“I beg to differ,” you whisper.

And Mitch finally relents, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he closes the final gap and kisses you.

Mitch’s lips are soft like his disposition, and they press into yours with a pliant, tender warmth that leaves you boneless in his arms as his other hand drifts down to clasp at your hip, pulling you close. His beard tickles your face as his lips move languidly with yours, his tongue embarking on an exploratory journey as it flirts with the seam of your mouth. He deepens the kiss as you open up for him, and you arch into his touch at the feeling of his fingers dancing along the small of your back.

Suddenly, both of his hands are at your waist as he hoists you up onto the counter, his large, warm palms burning hot like a brand through the thin material of your dress. The hem rides up high toward your hips as you spread your thighs, beckoning him to step between them.

He holds your face in both hands, dipping down to steal another kiss, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him close. You can feel the outline of his erection pressing against you, the denim seam teasing the meager cotton panties covering your hot core. Emboldened by the jolt of arousal that zips down your spine, you reach down to run your hand over his shaft, and he groans into your mouth.

“Honey…” he drawls, voice strained as he pulls away slightly.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about doing this back here,” you say, squeezing his cock. “Because I sure have.”

His forehead drops against your shoulder as he rasps, “Fuck.”

Your fingers stroke up and down the tented denim. “I like to think about you bending me over the counter out there, too.”

“Yeah?” he asks huskily.

“Every night, Mitch.”

“Don’t tell me that,” he groans, hips bucking into where the heel of your palm is pressed firmly against his shaft.

“How come?” you ask innocently.

He leans in, nipping at your earlobe, “Because I’ll fuck you all night on every flat surface we can find in this building, sweetheart.”

“I’m all yours,” you breathe out.

Mitch rocks back on his heels slightly, looking down at you in wonder for a beat before his mouth crashes back into you with a bruising kiss, one that you can taste the hunger in as his lips slot against yours.

Hand still cupping his erection, you pop open the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper and reaching inside of his boxers. As you wrap your fingers around his cock, you nearly choke into the kiss as you feel the size of it, and he chuckles in amusement against your lips. You can’t help the way your mouth waters at the mere thought of him easing that inside of you, and you involuntarily rock your hips into him.

Mitch’s mouth leaves yours, but he firmly holds your gaze as he pushes your dress up higher and hooks his fingers in your underwear. He slides them down your legs, still staring up at you as he kisses his way from your thighs, to your knees, to your ankles, pocketing the fabric before straightening.

He grasps your ass for a moment, pulling you closer to the edge and nudging your thighs even further apart. His lips hover over yours as he drags a finger through your folds, humming appreciatively at the arousal leaking from your cunt.

“This all for me, honey?” He asks, and you nearly keen from the gravelly tone of his voice of his voice alone.

“Yeah, Mitch,” you pant out, chest already heaving as he begins to slip a single digit inside of your soaked channel.

You suck in a sharp breath when he inserts another finger, crooking them inside of you and stroking your walls before pulling both out and popping them into his mouth. His eyes fall shut for a moment as he laps off your juices.

“You taste so fuckin’ good.”

And as much as you want to feel his mouth on your cunt, his tongue lapping broad strokes up and down your slit until you’re a whimpering mess, it’ll have to wait. Not this time. Because right now, all you can think about is the feeling of him splitting you open on his cock.

He must understand that’s what you want, how desperate you are for him, how badly you need him to fuck you now. Because when you take his dick back into your hands and scoot closer to slide your folds up and down it, he kisses you hard, rutting against you for a moment before reaching down to notch the head of his cock at your entrance.

He parts from your mouth for a moment, his eyes searching yours. The moment you nod, he anchors one hand against the small of your back as he presses forward and begins to sink into you. Your walls greedily clench down on the pleasurable stretch of his cock as he inches deeper and deeper inside of you, both of you panting hard once he bottoms out.

His name falls from your lips when he begins to move once more, dragging his shaft out of your cunt almost to the tip before plunging back inside with a snap of his hips. He’s so fucking big, your pussy throbs from the delicious, punishing stretch, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he feels you gripping tightly at his shoulders.

“Feels so good, Mitch,” you whine, feeling more and more cock drunk with each rough, deep thrust.

You can hear the smile spread across his lips as he drawls, “So fuckin’ pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

Your muscles tighten in tandem with the tension coiling in your gut at the praise, and Mitch is quick to clock the way your mouth falls open, lips parted and eyes slightly glazed over as he continues to sink into your cunt. He hums lowly, the sound a pleasant rumble in his throat, one hand reaching up as he brushes his thumb across the curve of your jaw.

“You gonna come for me, honey?” he asks, his deep voice stoking the fire crawling through your veins.

You nod, your legs trembling slightly as you begin to lose your composure.

Mitch reaches down, rubbing circles into your throbbing clit, and when he murmurs, “Good girl,” you fall apart, your climax washing over you as your walls spasm and contract around his cock.

Mitch drives his length into you with one last powerful thrust before pulling out, moaning as ropes of cum spill from his cock, splashing your thighs and dripping down to the floor below. Once the last of his seed finishes leaking out, he leans forward and kisses you again, softly this time.

When he pulls away, a boyish smile tugs at his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he tilts his head and asks, “You free tonight?”

You laugh, reaching out to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulling his mouth back to yours.

“For you? Always.”

—

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

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#tulsa king #tulsa king fanfiction #mitch keller #mitch keller fanfiction #mitch keller smut #mitch keller x reader #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund fanfiction #dee writes

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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The New Waitress

I'm starting a series of small, stand alone snippets about a waitress who started working for Mitch Keller. I have no idea where these are going but enjoy!

(Gif not mine obvi, all the props for dameronscopilot who has NOT helped this brainrot in the slightest <3 )

Bred-2-Buck wasn’t my first choice for a job. But rolling into Tulsa with fifty bucks and a suitcase I couldn’t exactly be choosy. I had hopped off the bus and gone to a small diner right next to it, knowing if I wanted some gossip the old woman with her hair pinned back behind the faded neon counter would be my girl. A few bucks for a black coffee and I learned all about where I could get a job, quick, for cash. Which is why I ended up here at this bar and grill, wading through the cigarette smoke to sit at the bar and give my best smile to the owner. The waitress, Maureen, had told me to look for the tall man in a hat and flannel, she had neglected to tell me that he had the prettiest blue eyes and golden hair that curled around the edge of his hat. And he was tall and broad and - focus.

“Mitch, I assume?” I asked, dropping my bag on the stool next to me as I sat in mine, leaning on the old bartop slightly. The bar was casual, dimly lit with neon signs boasting what beers they had available, pub tables and booths filling the space not occupied with darts or pool tables.

The man looked at me, raising his brows slightly as his eyes trailed over what he could see of me before meeting my eyes. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” That accent and deep voice, I was a goner. I pushed it down, leaning over the bar and extended a hand for him to shake, not letting my smile drop. “I’m Sunny Stevens. Your new waitress.” I introduced myself confidently, his hand sliding into mine for a firm but friendly handshake.

He cracked a smile, a flash of white teeth against the dark blonde of his beard. “Hired a waitress did I?” “Just did.” I said back, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. The two of us looked at one another for a few beats before I broke the silence, thankful the bar was mostly empty. “I’m new in town, and Maureen-” “Say no more, Sunny.” He interrupted, expression smoothing a bit more at the mention of the old waitress who had been my compass to this location. “Maureen sent you I’ll take ya. When can you start?” “Considering I’ve got nowhere to be and I don’t think I can afford a hotel with the cash I’ve got now would be preferred.” Mitch looked almost exasperated at me, something I’d soon get used to. He stepped around the bar after dropping an apron on the bar top before me that I snatched up. Grabbing my bag he gave me a look, taking it behind the bar. “I’ll keep this safe back here. Now, there are a few rules.” I hopped off the barstool, tying the apron around my waist. I had a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on, nothing fancy but perfect for a waitressing gig. I had even worn comfortable shoes, figuring I would have been hoofin' it around town. “Figured.” I said, twisting my hair up into a claw clip, brushing my bangs from my face as I looked up at him once more. “Hit me with ‘em, boss.” “Don’t steal from me, don’t steal from customers, and if anyone gives you problems? You come to me. I don’t want no one pawin’ after you.” “Pawin’ after me?” I asked with a grin, leaning on the bar. He looked amused before he pushed it down, shooting me what I assume was supposed to be a warning glance but I didn’t plan on listening. I couldn’t help myself, I liked Mitch already. He seemed nice, a little brooding maybe but nice. “Just tell me, yeah?” “You got it, boss.” I said, giving him a nod. I wasn’t going to argue if he wanted to make sure I was safe, and I wasn’t sure what kind of clientele came to a place like this. “One more thing, Sunny.” He said, making me pause at the serious tone in his voice. I looked up at him, tilting my head slightly as I adjusted the apron around my waist. “I bring my dad into work sometimes. He just sits at the end of the bar, quiet. If he asks for something just get it for him, pops doesn’t pay.” “Pops doesn’t pay.” I repeated with a grin, giving him a little two finger salute before dipping back into the kitchen to get familiar with it. Within a few hours I knew the cook, Charles, had the menu mostly memorized, and was carrying trays of beer filled mugs across the bar balanced on one shoulder like a pro. I liked serving, I liked the people I got to meet, and liked the cash tips the most. Folding another five into my pocket I cleared the table, grabbing empty mugs and plates, tossing them on the tray to take back to be washed. It was pretty busy, but not too busy for me to bother my new boss. Sliding behind the bar I smiled up at Mitch. He glanced over at me, sensing me there, lifting a brow with a slight smile as he continued to fill a few pitchers. “Whattcha need, darlin?”

“Round of bourbon shots, two pitchers, and I believe the woman called it a ‘lemon pucker’ if you know how to make such a thing.” I listed off what I needed, setting my trusty tray on the bar top. Mitch smiled at that, looking amused. “Lemon pucker?” I nodded and his shoulders shook with a laugh. My boss was pretty and he didn’t even know it. “I’ll do my best, but no promises.” “I got faith in you.” I said, leaning against the bar to watch him pour the shots and make the lemon whatever the fucked up blonde in the back wanted. I raised my brow at him pouring stuff into a mixing glass over ice before the yellow drink ended up on my tray, whisked away to the back once more.

Read more Sunny and Mitch here

#mitch keller #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund fanfiction #Snips

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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Jealous 2.0

“Hey ya’ll, welcome in. I’m Sunny, I’ll be your server today.” I said my usual spiel, sliding a menu to each of the four men with a sweet smile, placing four sets of wrapped silverware in the middle of the circular table. “Ya’ll want me to start you with some waters or you have something a little more fun from the bar in mind?” I asked, clicking my pen and pulling out the little pad I took orders on, smiling at the men.

They were handsome enough, middle aged so a little gray at the temples but each of them held themselves with a cool confidence that I didn’t even mind. The one on my left returned my smile, flashing a row of pearly whites. “Well Sunny girl, I think we’re going to start with a few pitchers of whatever is on tap, and an order of nachos?” He glanced at the others and they all nodded, plucking up the menus to look at them. “Sunny, that sure is a pretty name.” He added, chin tilted up as he met my eyes. He had hazel eyes, dark hair too, a tan that worked for him.

“Thank you, but I can’t take credit for that. I’ll pass the praise on to my ma though.” I said, smile still in place as I clicked my pen, putting the pad in the server’s apron around my waist. “I’ll go get those beers.”

I walked away, heading towards the POS system at the bar to type out to get the nachos going from the kitchen before grabbing a few plastic pitchers from the clean shelf, going to the taps. Mitch was pouring Pops another drink but glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

“How’s it going?” He asked, leaning on the bar as I filled the pitchers with the basic tap beer.

“S’okay. How is the bar?” I asked, flashing him a smile, taking any opportunity to talk to Mitch during work. When we’d get back to the house at the end of the day Pops would take up his chair in the living room and I would usually grab the first shower before turning in for bed or sitting on the back porch reading until I got tired enough to lay down. We spoke, of course, but stealing little conversations at work felt a little more special for some reason. Maybe it was because Mitch had other options for conversation and still chose to come to me. God I was pathetic of this man.

“S’not bad.” He said, blue eyes flicking over to my newest table, watching the men talk amongst themselves.

I didn’t answer Mitch, grabbing the two pitchers in one hand and four glasses in the other, walking back to the table. Setting everything down I flashed my service smile, glancing between the four of them. “Ya’ll ready to order or need a few more minutes?” I asked.

“You know sweetheart, the boys and I were just talking about how pretty you are.” The man with hazel eyes spoke, reaching out and patting at my arm. It was a safe spot so I didn’t pull away but I did tilt my head slightly, placing a hand on my hip. “How’d you end up in a place like this? Not that it isn’t nice, been comin here for years and just haven’t seen you around.” “Ah, I started a little over a month ago I think now.” I said with a small shrug, used to having the conversation with the regulars. “I like it here. I get to meet a lot of people, and who doesn’t like tips?”

The men all smiled and nodded, hazel eyes letting out a little chuckle. “Fair enough. We need a few more minutes, but thank you Sunny.” I nodded, turning and walking away, unphased by the conversation. Moving behind the bar to see if there were any dishes I could snatch to take to the back when Mitch broke my concentration.

“I need help behind the bar.” Mitch said, sidling up next to me. “Ann will be taking over your table so you can help me.” I frowned, glancing up at Mitch confused. “What, Mitch-” I frowned as I walked after him, his long legs easily outpacing me but we were in a small space behind the bar. He refilled a beer, popping the top off another one, serving the people that were coming up to the bar in waves.

Mitch had never needed my help before, so why now? I huffed, not pleased at the idea of losing out on my tips for the night, bar tips were never as good. “Mitch-” “I’m the boss and I said I need your help Sunny. Listen.” He said sternly, looking down at me before moving past me to make another mixed drink at the end of the bar, flagging Ann over so she could take over my tables.

I frowned but realized I couldn’t really do about the situation, setting my frustration on the back burner to focus on the group before me looking at me hopefully for a drink. “Hi all, what do you need?” I asked, slapping on a smile.

The next few hours flew by. The bar was busy, and Mitch and I moved well together, but he certainly hadn’t needed my help. I’d seen him work busier crowds with ease, and the frustration at losing out on my tips really bothered me. Wiping off the bartop to clear it of spilled beer and condensation it had wound down enough for me to finally get answers from Mitch.

“I need to talk to you.” I told him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the back office. Mitch didn’t stop me or stumble but he did gesture for one of the girls to get behind the bar, not wanting to leave it unattended.

I opened the office door and pulled him through, closing the door as he moved to lean against his desk and face me. I don’t think I’d ever seen him actually sit behind the damn thing once.

“What was that about?” I asked, stopping before him with my hands on my hips.

Mitch had the audacity to fold his hands on his lap, looking relaxed as always. “What was what about, darlin?” He asked, voice smooth and low.

I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him, index finger gently prodding at his chest. “Don’t you try that sweet cowboy bullshit with me now, Mitch Keller. Why did you pull me behind the bar? I’m not stupid, I’ve seen you handle bigger crowds with ease, so why did you pull me off tables. Tipping tables, mind you.”

Mitch grabbed my hand that had been poking at him, warm fingers wrapping around my wrist, thumb brushing against the inside of it. “Just needed some help is all.” He said, pulling me a little closer. I went, curious as to what he was doing but not letting myself get distracted. As he spread his legs slightly to pull me between them to get me closer I met his eyes, telling him without words I wasn’t buying it.

He huffed, glancing away for a moment with a little frown on his lips, free hand scratching along his jaw. “That man grabbed at you. Figured you’d wanna get away from him.” I paused, confused, thinking back to right before he pulled me behind the bar. Nothing out of the ordinary really happened, no one grabbed me like that one time, the memory of large fingers digging into my thigh painfully making me frown. Then it clicked. The four top of good looking men, the man touching my arm.

I grinned, taking a step closer to Mitch, the burn of satisfaction warming me over from the inside out. “Mitch Keller, are you jealous?” I asked, crowding his space slightly. He huffed, rolling his eyes and adjusting his hat on his head, hand still wrapped loosely around my wrist.

“Jealous? Darlin’, really?” He asked, flashing that good ol’ boy smile at me, chin tipping up to meet my eyes. I got flashbacks to the day in the cooler earlier last week, when he had accused me of the same thing. His free hand settled on my hip, pulling me closer, and I willingly leaned in with my own smile. “Oh, good. I’d hate for it to be weird when I call one of them. I got some numbers before I was snatched behind the bar so I figured…” I trailed off, giving a little shrug, feigning nonchalance as my hands settled on his broad shoulders. “Might take one of em up on the offer of a date in the next few weeks.” He tensed under my hands and I knew I had him.

“Mm.” He said, hand tightening slightly on my wrist before releasing it. “Well it’s a shame that you’ll be busy that day. It’s busy season after all, I need you here.” “I never said what day, Mitch.” I said, stepping back as he stood, making me look up at him now. He paused, blue eyes flicking over my face before his lips set into a thin line.

“You are doing doubles all next week.”

“Wait- hey!” I gasped, chasing after him as he left the office. I caught Ann’s grin and returned it, chasing after my boss when he tried to hide behind the bar, fully intending to pester him into giving me at least an afternoon off. “Cowboy you get your tall self back here, I wasn’t done with you!”

Read more Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #tulsa king #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #Revenge really #I'm normal about him.

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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Old and New Homes

No warnings, I just really love them.

It had been a perfect day. One of those perfect summer days where it wasn’t too hot, the breeze was the right side of cool, and the sound of songbirds echoed throughout the entire memory. I had been young, I couldn’t remember exactly how young, maybe seven? Eight? The kind of summer that you remember the sugary juice and the warm sunshine and the cool water.

Mom had sent us to grandma’s, and Jackson and River had taken me to the small creek. Jack had told me there were leeches, but River had quietly told me that the black squirmy things were tadpoles and wouldn’t hurt me so I had dipped my toes in. We had spent the whole day laughing, splashing one another.

Jackson, my oldest brother, had always been a bit of a bully but today he had been in a good mood, wrestling with River and then throwing me into the deep end when I asked. “Sunny sunshine silly girl.” They had chanted on our way back, me in between my two brothers, smiling so big that my cheeks hurt.

Gran had been waiting on the front porch, had snapped the photo that brought back the sounds, the smells, the feel of sunshine on my shoulders.

Jackson, with a burned nose and freckles, blonde hair wild and eyes shining. Shy River on my other side, dark hair equally as wild and missing a front tooth from his own cheeky grin. And then me, little Sunny Stevens, squeezed between my two older brothers with messy pigtails, a gap tooth grin, and sunburn on my shoulders.

I smiled, fingers brushing the old photo softly. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Sunny?” Mitch’s voice snapped me out of it and I jumped, looking up surprised to find him walking into the spare room had been gifted to me those few months ago. He paused, seeing me blink up at him before giving me a crooked smile, hands on his hips. “What are you up to in here?” I grinned, shaking my head slightly. “Found some of my old photos in a book I had forgotten I had stashed away.” I said, holding out the photo of me and my two older brothers. Mitch took it gently, treating the photo with no small amount of care that made my affection grow for him just a little bit. He inspected the photo before letting out a little amused huff. “Well that is certainly you.” He said, tone a little playful as he glanced at me. “Those your brothers?” I nodded, standing to move next to him. “Yeah, that is Jackson.” I pointed to the blonde, my older brother. He had always seemed almost immortal growing up, like a hero, such praise placed upon his small shoulders by an adoring younger sibling. “He’s serving life actually. We write sometimes, but it’s been awhile…” I pointed at the dark haired boy grinning in the photograph. “That’s River. He’s, um, he passed away awhile ago.” I said, glancing over the photo before looking up at Mitch for a second then ducking my head, moving back to where my suitcase was open on the made bed. “Sunny.” He said, voice soft. I gave a small shrug, grabbing a few more books from my suitcase to move them on top of the dresser, what I had originally been doing. Finally unpacking. Settling in. Something I never thought I would be doing here, but Mitch made this place feel like home. And I wanted it to be. “It happened a long time ago, Mitch. I had been a teenager.” I said, not wanting him to think I was on the verge of breaking down over it. “I’m okay. Promise. Now, what did you need?” I asked, accepting the photo back and sliding it carefully under the cover of a hardcover book so it wouldn’t get creased up.

Mitch looked at me a moment, gave me that look that made me almost want to squirm. Like he was looking through me. It just made me cross my arms, giving him a look. Finally he smiled, shaking his head and reaching up to adjust his hat. “Well I feel bad askin’ since you are unpacking.” “What does my unpacking have to do with what you want to ask?” I asked, hands moving to my hips now as I tilted my head slightly to the side, trying to study him right back. While Mitch seemed to read me like a book I couldn’t always get a pin on him. He had a far too easy time flashing me that handsome grin and winking at me instead of letting me catch a glimpse of how he really felt if he didn’t want me to know.

“Mitch.” I sighed, though it lacked any real heat. Man was too damn hard to really be upset with and we both knew it.

“Well I figured it was time to empty out the spare room.” He said, thumbs hooking into his pockets and looking down at me. I blinked, brows knitting together as I frowned at him. Was Mitch… trying to tell me to get out? But that didn’t make any sense, especially with how close we had been getting. No, that couldn’t be it, could it? He must have seen the confusion on my face, of course he did, and shook his head. “Darlin’, I’m not kicking you out.” “Yeah, good luck with that. I’ve got Pops on my side. And Scruff.” I added, having worked very hard to earn the affection of the fluffy little dog who I had saved. Not that the little fluff ball acted like it, curling up next to Pops when my lap was perfectly open. It was cute to watch the old man and little dog bond though, I wouldn’t lie. Cute little traitor.

Mitch let out an amused huff, rolling his eyes with a wider grin. “I think you may not be getting what I am suggesting.” “You literally just said free up the spare room. Mitch Keller, forgive me but that sounds as though you want me out of the spare room, and seeing as there are no other free rooms, I’m not sure where you are expecting me to go.” I said, getting a little frustrated with him. And the jerk had the audacity to only get more amused with me, his arms crossing his broad chest and leaning on the doorframe. What was this, a photoshoot? My eyes flicked up and down his form, narrowing when I met his, seeing the laughter dancing in those pretty blue eyes. “I will full name you if you don’t just come out and say it.” “Hey now, let’s not pull out the big guns.” He said with a laugh, hands going up in a defensive position before he stepped further into the room and pulled me closer. I went willingly because why wouldn’t I, looking up at him. I raised my brows, giving him a ‘well?’ look and his smile softened. “There isn’t a free room, no. But I have a room. A room that you stay in more times than not.” He said, hands settling on my hips before one slid to my lower back, pressing gently and making our fronts brush. My lips parted in surprise and I looked between his eyes, seeing nothing but honest amusement. He was serious. “For real?” I asked quietly, hands resting on his chest. “Got half the closet emptied for you already, darlin’.” He said, ducking his head as his hand on my hip lifted to rest under my chin, tilting my face up so he could kiss me. I sighed against his lips, relaxing against the warm solid press of his body. The kiss wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t hungry or desperate like they sometimes were. It was a sweet press of his lips against mine, his fingers against my lower back pressing gentle circles there, getting me as close as he could. When we parted I knew I had a little smile on my lips and didn’t even bother trying to hide it. “I mean, if you’ve cleaned out half your closet I guess I should.” I whispered playfully, cuddling up against him. He hummed, the feeling of his chest vibrating under my hands making my grin a little bigger. “And you do have a more comfortable bed….” “And I am in it.” He added, raising a brow at me. “Oh, yes, that too I suppose.” I teased, one of my hands moving to the back of his neck, arching up on my tiptoes for another kiss. “Consider me convinced.” I murmured, stealing another kiss from him, feeling his smile in the kiss.

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“Bring that picture.” He had told me before pressing a kiss to my forehead, walking out the door to wait in the truck for me so we could go open Bred 2 Buck the next morning. I hadn’t questioned him though I had been confused, taking the stairs two at a time and snatching up the book I had stashed the picture in for safe keeping.

Walking into the bar he had taken the book from my hands, winking at me as he led me behind the bar with a warm hand on my lower back. Stopping before the mirrored bar back I met Mitch’s eyes in the reflection, quirking a brow.

“Now you don’t have to,” He said, opening the book and holding it in his hand, offering the picture for me to take. “But I figured it doesn’t do you any good hidden away in this book. Do you want to put it with the others?”

Mitch had pictures tucked into the frame of the large mirror that sat behind the rows of liquor bottles, the low lighting often hiding the memories he had displayed here proudly. Young Mitch, a younger Pops, and a stunning woman who I knew to be his mother. Teenager Mitch with a big fish, him with some of his friends at a rodeo, mid-twenties Mitch showing off his belt buckle he’d won during a bull riding competition. Precious slices of memory, displayed in his bar for him to look back upon, to display proudly to every patron that came up to the bar to order a drink.

I blinked, eyes burning as a tell-tale sign that I was tearing up. “Really?” I asked, voice a little shaky as I held the photo, looking up at him.

Mitch just smiled, taking the picture from me and finding a spot for it, right above him and his parents and below the grand opening picture of him and the bar. I looked at it, the image of me and my brothers, grinning proudly and hugging one another tightly. Mitch’s arms wrapped around my shoulders and I fell into him, face pressing to his chest as I tried to hold back the tears, so touched that he wanted me to be part of this. That he even cared enough to think to consider adding me to something so special. “Thank you.” I sniffled, muffled against his dark shirt, arms squeezing around his middle. He pressed a kiss to my hair. “It’s your home too, Sunny.”

Read more Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction #sunnyxmitch

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marmie-noir · 1 month

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Riding Practice

TW: Suggestive comments from Mitch, nothing crazy. I missed this man.

Prep as a server was one of the most important things to prepare for a busy Friday night. Nothing was more annoying than running around delivering beers and trays of food only for someone to tell you their ketchup was empty, or that half the tables didn’t have salt shakers. So here I sat early on Friday while Mitch cleaned out the keg system behind the bar, filling salt and pepper shakers while Dwight and Pops sat on either side of me ‘talking’ about something or another involving a sport I didn’t care to listen in on. They’d say talking, I’d say arguing, but men were stubborn so apparently I was wrong. I rested my elbow on the bar top and planted my chin on my palm, watching Mitch a moment with a bored expression on my face. I loved Pops, and had gotten a bit warmer to Dwight, but god were these two were putting me to sleep. Mitch, who was running water through the lines to flush out any of the gross stuff that apparently could grow in them, glanced up and caught my eye, flashing me a smile and a wink. I felt my cheeks warm slightly and rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I glanced away from him, focusing on the pictures that were still on the mirrored backing of the bar. One of a young Mitch grinning at a rodeo caught my attention above the rest and I straightened, refocusing back on the man behind the bar. “Were you any good?” I asked. He quirked a brow at me, confused on what I meant before I gestured to the pictures. “Bull riding. Were you good at it?” That had him grinning. “Well I wasn’t bad, darlin’.” “He was great.” Pops interrupted, making both of us look over at him. “My boy was one of the best on the circuit. He stuck on them like glue, not even the meanest bull could throw him.” “Till one did.” Mitch said with a little smile, shaking his head at the fatherly pride practically glowing from Pops where he sat sipping his coffee. “I was pretty good, but once you get injured it’s kind of over. Couldn’t hold on as tight as I needed to while I healed, and well.” He trailed off because I knew what happened. Mitch had been put on painkillers, gotten addicted, and it eventually lead to him doing eight years inside. “I don’t understand the appeal.” Dwight said, lifting a broad shoulder as he looked at the pictures of young Mitch, sipping his own coffee. “Clinging to the back of one of those mean bastards while they try to throw you?” “I bet it’s a big hit of adrenaline.” I said, resting my folded arms on the bar and leaning on it as I looked at the other pictures and yellowed newspaper articles on the back wall. “I can see it though.” I could too. Mitch was tall with long legs, he probably slid on the back of the bulls like he belonged on one. Bet he looked really handsome in all that gear too. “Pretty sure there are some videos on youtube of it, if you are really curious darlin’.” He said, glancing back down at the job at hand. I still saw the little quirk of his lips though, clearly entertained by the subject at hand.

I hadn’t even thought of that though. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket but per usual I had garbage service all the way out here. Pouting, I continued to fill the salt and pepper shakers, knowing I’d have to ask Ann if her phone could pull up the videos when she got in around lunch time.

“Sunny, Julie’s gonna take your tables, we’ve got an errand to run.” Mitch’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I paused, glancing over my shoulder at him. I had been working on the schedule, trying to figure out when the new girl could get some training in because she was horrible. Yesterday she mixed up three tables of orders and set Ann and I back by at least twenty minutes in a rush. “What kind of errand?” I asked, wondering if this was bar business or something that Dwight might be more involved in. Mitch just gave me a look, pulling the knot on the back of my server’s apron to undo it before tossing it in the little cubby I had claimed as my own.

“The kind that requires you be in the truck in five minutes.” He said, arm wrapping around my shoulders to pull me closer, pressing a kiss against my forehead before releasing me to head back out to the bar to wrap up. I watched him leave the office, a little confused about what was happening but it was a nice day out and the idea of getting out of the dimly lit bar for a few hours sounded like a good time so I went with it.

What I hadn’t expected was us pulling up to a sale/rodeo yard. There were large buildings, multiple pens full of different animals or people training in one rodeo event or another. I was talking next to Mitch, looking around like a little kid in a candy store, taking in the pens of horses and the people milling around. He let out a chuckle, throwing an arm around my shoulders to steer me, his other hand tucking into his pocket as he lead me through the maze of pens and fenced off sections. It was warm and smelled of hay and animals, something I hadn’t experienced since I was a little kid and my neighbor had taken me to a livestock sale to get me out of the house.

Past a large fenced off arena style room with bleachers on either side I leaned into Mitch a bit more, letting him basically lead as I looked around. I heard the horses before I saw them and grinned, pulling Mitch towards a pen of pretty paint horses. He let me lead him this time, reaching out with his hand not on me, offering pets that the horses seemed eager to get. Their fur was soft against my fingertips, rubbing at one’s forehead right on a white patch that stood out bright against the reds of the rest of it’s coat. “I always loved horses. Our neighbor had a bunch and I’d sneak out into the pasture and spend time with them, they were really sweet old trail girls.” I said, rubbing the horse’s noise and earning a nicker. “I did a bit of bronco riding when I was first starting out but fell into bull riding and never really looked back.” Mitch hummed, patting the horse’s neck before pulling back and taking me with him. He lead us around a few more turns and there I found Dwight and a man I’d never seen before. Mitch got right into it, stopping beside Dwight with me still firmly at his side, arm casually over my shoulders to make sure I was tucked close. Because he certainly knew that I was absolutely disappear into the mazes of fencing in search of more animals to pet. Ever since I found Scruff Mitch seemed less willing to let me go wandering, stating he didn’t want a zoo in his house. “Moss.” He said, nodding his head before glancing at Dwight. “Dwight, this is Moss Wheelwright. Moss, this is Dwight, the man I told you about. And this is Sunny.”

I gave a little smile and wave, curious about the man who stood before me now. Moss looked like the average midwestern guy. Ball cap pulled low, a t- shirt and a pair of shorts with boots.It got pretty hot in here so I didn’t blame him, though Mitch had worn his usual attire of pants and a button up that was rolled to his elbows. “Moss is a bullfighter these days. Distracts the bull.” He continued on sounding almost affectionate, like he had some good memories of that very thing happening. “Wrangles him when the rider falls off.” It would make sense, if Mitch ever fell the bull could have very well turned and tried to get to him. Wranglers were in the pen to distract the animal long enough for the riders to get away, ensuring everyone left alive. It sounded like a terrifying job personally, but I had no experience with the bulls so just being near one sounded unpleasant to me.

Another man walked up then with his hand extended. He shook Mitch’s hand, then Dwight, and then reached for mine. I shook his hand, pleased to not be ignored in these situations as some men would do. “Sorry I’m late brother, had to sneak out of work.” The new man said, looking at Mitch with a little nod of his head. “Howdy ya’ll. Ben Hutchins.” “Ben.” Dwight said, looking out of place in his suit but not looking the least bit bothered by that fact. “Dwight.” “Sunny.” I said, flashing him a smile.

“Oh, don’t mind the blood.” Ben said, stepping back to stand next to Moss. He did have some blood on his jeans, his boots too. It was clear Moss, Ben, and Mitch all knew one another. These must be his buddies from the rodeo days he spoke about sometimes. “I work in a slaughterhouse.”

Dwight let out a rumbling chuckle, looking amused. “You’re hired.” As Mitch, Dwight, and the two newcomers began to talk business I snuck away, feet silent in the dirt as I left Mitch’s side for the first time since we showed up. I wanted to explore a little bit while they talked business and had some experience in places like this so I had a general idea of what I was looking for.

I spent some time wandering around the pens and stalls, petting the horses that allowed it and keeping my distance from the bulls and wilder looking animals that were caged up. I ended up at an odd looking contraption which I recognized was a mechanical bull, the material on the ground around it padded for when the riders would fall off. This must be the training that Mitch had mentioned…

“Spent hours on that thing.” Mitch interrupted my inspection and I looked over my shoulder, not really surprised to see him. Flashing him a smile he returned it, moving towards the metal contraption with a a contemplative hum, large hand smoothing over the back of the leather saddle it was equipped with. “We used to get a case of beer and spend our Friday nights on this thing, betting who could hold on longer.” “You win?” I teased, moving next to him. He let out a laugh. “Bet your ass I did.” Without another word Mitch reached down, grabbing me and placing me on the back of it. “C’mon, I’ll turn it on easy so you can get an idea of what it feels like. It’s not exactly like the real thing, but you’ll get the idea.”

I blinked in surprise at finding myself in the saddle of the mechanical bull, one of my hands wrapping around the rope provided for just that purpose. “Okay, sure. But if I fall you aren’t allowed to laugh.” “Okay, honey.” He hummed, that low voice only making me narrow my eyes at him. “Now lift your other hand, gotta be authentic in it. Don’t halfass it now.” I did as he said as Mitch moved to the side where there was a box with numbers and switches, clearly a control panel. I trusted him to not crank it all the way up, I’d be tossed into space if that was the case, my legs didn’t go far around the thing and I couldn't really hold on well.

The machine hummed to life at the flip of a switch and then began to slowly rock back and forth. I concentrated on moving with it as it began to gradually moved faster, letting my body remain more loose so I wasn’t a board on the back of it. “A natural. Move with it Sunny, don’t fight it. That’s my girl.” He called, cranking it up. The machine jerked and I let out a laugh, hair flying, nearly thrown but held on. I didn’t last much longer, tossed off the back into a mat where I landed on my back with a grin, a little dizzy with how fast it had spun, not even upset I’d already been tossed.

The machine wound down and a hand appeared. I took it, Mitch easily pulling me up with a wide grin. “Not too bad for your first time. We’ll make you a rider after all.” “Hardly.” I said with a roll of my eyes. Mitch had this spark in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer and starting to head back to the truck. “We’ll just have to practice at home, darlin’.” “Yeah, you got one of these hidden somewhere?” I sassed, looking up at him. “Nah, we’ll practice another way.” “Practice a- Mitch!” I laughed, slapping his chest lightly as he chuckled, his free hand adjusting his hat as he wove us through the maze of the large building.

More Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #mitch keller #garrett hedlund #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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marmie-noir · 27 days

Text

Magic Mike Audition

TW: A real jerk of a customer, minor injuries, I feel like shirtless Mitch is a warning? Nothing crazy this time ya'll.

Per usual not edited, please forgive any mistakes but I had written this by hand and then typed it up.

Also, if you were the human who said something about Sunny wearing Mitch's clothes, this is obviously inspired! I can't find the note/info in my activity because of the boop madness but TYSM!!

I glanced up as Ann approached, a small frown out of place with her normally chipper attitude. “What?” I asked, straightening with a stack of dirty plates balanced on one hand, glasses in the other. Our bus boy had called off and it had been super busy, Mitch barely even getting out from behind the bar to help us out on the floor. At least the tips were nice if nothing else, the people seeing how we were swamped with two waitresses, no buser, and one bartender.

“Guy at 10 is an ass.” She muttered, looking over her shoulder. I followed her gaze and spotted a middle aged man mean mugging her. “What is his problem?” I asked, glancing back at her as we walked to the kitchen together. She began punching an order into the POS screen back there while I cleared the plates I had brought back, lining them up in the sturdy plastic tray prepping to be washed. The young dishwasher gave me a thankful smile and I returned it. He was a nice kid Mitch had just taken on, sweet by shy.

“Says he hates redheads.” Ann snipped, the sound of her nails hitting the POS screen a loud tapping noise in the kitchen. I frowned, seeing that she was very clearly a loud and proud redhead, her pretty hair pinned out of her face but in no way hidden. “Want me to take him?” I offered. I didn’t really mind difficult customers and if his issue really was redheads then problem solved.

She glanced at me, fingers pausing over the poor screen she had been abusing moments before. “You sure?” I gave a small shrug. “Sure, why not. You’ve had a few jerks today, share the love and all that.” Her grin was immediate. “You are an angel. You hear that, Keller? Sunny is a real angel!”

Hearing her say his name I looked back to find Mitch was in the kitchen at the pick up window getting a few orders for his customers at the bar. He paused, glancing between myself and Ann before sending me a half smile. “I know.” He said, grabbing the plates full of food. “But why do you think she is?”

Ann gave me an amused look, always a little entertained that Mitch was never shy about complimenting me. “Because,” She said, wrapping up the last of her order, the few final clicks of her nails on the screen sounding somehow more satisfied. “She’s jumping on one massive asshole grenade.” Flashing me one last smile Ann breezed out of the kitchen, obviously lighter now that she had been relieved of table 10.

“Darlin’.” Mitch said, a plate balanced on each hand, looking down at me but giving nothing away. “Explain.” “Table 10 told Ann he doesn’t like redheads so I’m gonna take it from her.” I said, smiling at him with a little ‘shoo’ motion. “I’m a big girl, cowboy. That food is gonna get cold if you keep standing here pesterin me.” “Sunny.” “Mitch.” I said his name with a smile on my lips. “You can see me from the bar. Now git.” “You tell ‘im girl.” Charlie called from over the pit grill, making me laugh as I left the kitchen as well.

Ann of course had been right. This guy was an absolute dick. A whole fucking bag of them really. Not only was he rude, but he was also picky, a tragic combination in a human. His beer had to have three orange slices, three, he had repeated at least six times while I write it down with the patience of a saint. His fried pickles had to be extra crispy, and his ribs had to be drowning in sauce. He spoke in a condescending, slow tone, pausing to ensure I wrote down every one of his words as if they were scripture. And the douche canoe made sure to let me know that he had absolutely no issues sending food back. Shocker.

I went to the back to grab the pickles when they came up, dropping them at his table before checking in with my other tables as I was covering half the dining area. He didn’t kick up a fit so I thought I was in the clear.

I was wrong.

I heard Charlie hit the little bell that let us know that some food was in the window. Knowing mine was up next I went to the back and spotted what could only be described as a plate of bar-b-que sauce, ribs barely visible with the amount of sauce. The plates had a raised edge so quiet a bit was on there, but he had been very insistent he wanted them swimming and those ribs were damn near doing laps.

I grabbed the plate carefully and the other plate with his sides, as they obviously couldn’t go with the ‘swimming’ ribs. “Thanks Charlie!” I called as I walked out, beelining to table 10.

I slid the plates before him with a friendly smile, not betting on a tip but trying to still be polite. Glancing up I noticed his beer with his three orange slices was nearly gone and I paused. “Would you like ano-” “What is this?” He cut me off, looking down at the plate at what I would personally call bar-b-que soup at this point. “Oh,” I said, brushing off his interruption. “Those would be your ribs, and I had your sides put on another plate. Does it not look right?” I asked, knowing full well this was exactly what he ordered.

“Do you think this is funny?” He snapped, eyes lifting to focus on me now, clearly not pleased. “Do I look like I’m laughing?” I asked, looking down at him as my hands rested on my hips. I was polite to a point, didn’t mind working with customers on their weird requests, but this guy was just the absolute worst. I was kind, but I was no doormat. “You ordered exactly what is in front of you. If something looks wrong I can fix it, but you’ve got to tell me.” His face turned a shade of red I’d never seen, skin blotchy with his brows pinching together. He slowly stood, glaring down at me before doing something I hadn’t been prepared for.

Putting his hand under the lip of the plate the asshole flicked it towards me, the lake of sauce and ribs splattering against my front as the plate fell to the floor. It shattered loudly, the ribs falling next as I stood there. The sauce was hot, not to the point of it being dangerous, but it didn’t feel pleasant. “Oh no.” I heard someone say but I was already moving.

“Alright asshole, come here.” I growled, hands falling into fists as I went to swing. A cool hand wrapped around my upper arm, stopping me mid strike and I wrestled against Ann’s hold. Luckily for this asshole Ann was scrappy, stronger than she looked, and she began to pull me away from the jerk who looked far too smug. “Let me- Ann! Let me go!”

“Let Mitch handle this one, Sugar.” She whispered to me, pulling me to the back. I looked back at the asshole of a customer only to see him getting literally dragged out to the parking lot by Mitch whose face reminded me of thunder clouds right before a violent storm.

“God damnit.” I cursed under my breath, marching to the back without a fight as the target of my rage was out of sight. Ann followed after me, a little like a nervous bird fluttering about for a few moments before finally settling on trying to get some sauce off my front with a handful of rags. There was just way too much, I felt it smear on my skin, the sweet smokey scent filling my senses. But it gave her something to do, and distracted me, irritated I hadn’t even gotten a punch in.

There was a tense few moments of Ann basically smearing still warm sauce on my shirt before she glanced up. “M’sorry, Sunny.” She murmured, bright eyes dropping back down to the mess she was really only making worse with her efforts. Her tone and expression sucked the anger right out me. I deflated, a long sigh pulling from me before I shook my head. “Ann, no. Hey.” I gave her arm a squeeze, thankfully not leaving any smears on her. Someone had to be able to handle tables while I got cleaned up, not both of us could be 90% sauce after all. “That guy was gonna be a jerk no matter what. That isn’t your fault, okay? It’s fine. I’m not hurt I’m just�� sauced.” I admitted, nose scrunching slightly at the unpleasant feeling.

“Perfect good waste of my sauce, too.” Charlie chimed in, sounding grumpy. Ann and I exchanged a look before cracking up. “What? It is!” Mitch walked in, hands fisted at his sides, pausing in surprise to find Ann and I both laughing. I’m sure he had expected to have to come in and handle a demon (me), but really nothing bad had happened. Least he didn’t grab my ass. Seeing us both unharmed and apparently in good spirits he moved closer. “Ann, tables.” He ordered, still a bit tense.

“On it boss.” She said, winking at me before handing me the sauce smeared rags and heading back out to the dining area. Mitch didn’t look away from me, taking in the mess that I was and the way Ann had certainly not helped. “C’mon.” He said, gesturing with a tilt of his head towards his office.

I followed after him, careful not to accidentally bump into him or the walls. The moment the door was closed Mitch reached out and plopped me down on the edge of his desk with no warning. The feeling of his hands on my hips, lifting and then lowering me had my eyes widening slightly and I looked up at him.

Before I could react or say anything he spoke first. “You okay, darlin’?” He asked, hand lifting and thumb brushing against my cheek. I felt something smear and knew that I had sauce there too.

“M’okay.” I murmured quietly, looking up at him. “Sauce was a little hot but not too bad. I’m mostly mad.” I admitted. That got me a half smile which was a vast improvement.

His fingers lingered on my cheek a moment before falling to the hem of my shirt. “Course you are fine, what was I thinking?” He muttered mostly to himself, amused as he started to peel off my shirt. Mitch was careful, ensuring that the shirt didn’t get anything into my hair or smear it on my skin more than it already was. I let him knowing I would have struggled and made a larger mess. Plus, there was no saving the shirt with how drenched it was.

He tossed the shirt into the bin and it made a spat noise that had me frowning. Together the two of us cleaned the sauce with Mitch getting most of it, grabbing the package of baby wipes Ann kept in her cubby for emergencies. She swore they were the best make up removal wipes ever but hadn’t tested it myself. Worked wonders of bar-b-que sauce though.

‘At least I wore a plain bra.’ I thought, thankful that the simple black bra wasn’t in danger of being ruined. If one of my cute pale ones had gotten sauced I would have been pissed. Mitch gave me one more once over and I noticed that some of my skin was a little pink and sensitive. Guess the sauce was hotter than I had felt. I wasn’t too bad though, more annoying almost than anything, a dull pain. Mitch’s touch was unbelievably soft though, fingertips glossing over my skin gently as he helped to clean me up. It was nice, and while I wouldn’t voluntarily step in the way of flying plates in the future, I didn’t mind getting this kind of treatment from the man looming over me. On his desk. The very desk where he had me falling apart just last week.

As if reading my thoughts Mitch’s eyes slid up from the middle to meet mine, the zing of awareness coloring my cheeks slightly. He let out an amused little exhale, lips quirking up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he took a little step back, tossing the used wipes into the bin as well before grabbing the first aid kit.

Without the heat of his larger form close I felt goosebumps race up my arms and I frowned, glancing around the office to see if I could find a spare shirt to borrow for the rest of my shirt. Normally Mitch had a few shirts with the bar's logo on it for people to buy, but hadn’t ordered any in a hot minute.

Mitch came back with the kit, settling the little metal box next to me on the desk before popping it open. “Lean back a little, I want to get some burn cream on your stomach.” He said, pulling a little packet of said cream from the kit, eyes on the pink skin of my abdomen. “I don’t need it, honest.” I tried to reassure him, not wanting him to go through all the fuss. Mitch reached out silently, his hand gentle as he pressed against my collarbone so I had to lean back, my arms holding more of my weight. “Humor me.” He said in that honey laced tone that had me nodding mutely, looking up at him all doe eyed. “Good girl.” He praised, voice low and sweet, the words rumbling from him into the small space between us. Then he began to apply the cream to any part of my skin that was looking a little irritated or pink. It was cold, I sucked in a little breath that had his pretty blue eyes jumping to my face to check in. Seeing that it hadn’t been a pain induced sound he smirked before continuing. His touch was gentle, borderline adoring even, rubbing little circles with a light pressure as the cream soaked into my skin. It hadn’t been a bad burn but it had been a little sore, almost like a sunburn. Still, I was touched that he insisted on taking care of them, as non-serious as they were.

His hands slid up my bare sides, palms a little rough on my skin in the best way, his thumbs rubbing soothing little circles along the way. I was smiling, watching his hands glide over my skin before glancing up at him through my lashes. This man either had no idea how handsome he was or he didn’t care, even now in this moment with those thick lashes and deep blue eyes. The way his hair fell a little from his hat, or the way his lips were just slightly parted as he concentrated on me. Focused. It was addictive, having his complete and total attention. “It does feel better.” I admitted, earning another smile from him. Mitch leaned in, giving me a chaste kiss before straightening, his warm hands leaving my skin. I nearly pouted, wanting to continue to be spoiled with his care and attention. Then he took me by surprise, reaching instead to undo the buttons of his flannel. I blinked at him, confused as to what exactly he was doing. He paused, seeing my confusion, but instead of answering the obvious question he flashed me that teasing smile before taking off his hat and sliding it onto my head, pulling the bill low so it blocked my vision. I adjusted it with a huff, uncaring it if mussed my hair. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good show,” I started, watching him undo the next few buttons a little slower than before. Flirt. “But wanna share why you’ve decided to join me in the shirtless club?”

“Well,” Mitch said, smiling as he shrugged the flannel off. He set it next to me on the desk, leaving him in that deliciously semi-fitted black t-shirt. The kind that hugged his biceps just right and showed the strength of him without being uncomfortable, the material soft and hanging just right on his form. God bless whoever invented that cut of shirt. “You aren’t working shirtless, much as I would appreciate the view, I don’t really want everyone else getting an eyeful.” “While I don’t disagree, that doesn’t explain why you are doing a Magic Mike audition right now.” He pulled his shirt off in one practiced move, grabbing the back of the collar and lifting it over his head and then off his arms. It left his hair a little mussed and he let out a laugh at my comment, his free hand reaching up to smooth his hair back once more. My mouth was so dry, eyes slightly wide as I took in just how absolutely sexy that was and how tempting he looked right now.

Seeing me at a loss for words made him a little smug and he reached out, attempting to put the shirt on me. “I-Mitch, I can wear a bar shirt, you don’t have to.” I stammered out, cheeks a little warm, meeting those familiar blue eyes that had warmed with humor and a slightly less innocent heat.

“Don’t have any, Sunshine.” He said, taking a half step closer, one of his thighs splitting mine and resting against the edge of the desk as he got even more in my space.

Christ but did he look good. Mitch wasn’t packed with muscle but he was still obviously strong. His arms were thick, body trim with very little extra weight, slightly softer in the middle. His pants were a little low too, that fancy silver buckle of his gleaming even in the low light of the office. I was far too distracted by the fine line of dark hair that traveled down his lower stomach to disappear into his jeans that when Mitch pulled his hat off my head and back onto his own I jumped, surprised. It had me blushing, looking up at him as he let out a pleased laugh, fingers brushing under my chin teasingly. “Darlin’, you keep looking at me like that and poor Ann is gonna have to run the bar alone.” He teased while a very real spark of heat lit in his dark eyes. I swallowed before letting out a huff, lifting my arms to allow him to pull his shirt over my head.

Mitch was bigger than me so the shirt was obviously oversized on me. The sleeves weren’t tight around my arms, and the material bunched near my hips. It wasn’t unflattering, it just didn’t look as good on me as it did on him. It smelled like cigarette smoke and bar food but under that I caught a whiff of his body wash and cologne, the fabric still a little warm from his skin. Something about that made my skin tingle, hand lifting to gently play with the collar of the shirt as I looked up at him.

“Little big but it’ll do.” He hummed, leaning back slightly to adjust his hat once more, blue eyes scanning over my figure to take in how I looked in his shirt. From his expression Mitch Keller really liked me in his shirt. A lot.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, distracted by the scent of him right under my nose. I watched him grab the flannel once more and slide his arms into the sleeves, starting to do the buttons up once more. I reached out with a grin, helping him do the buttons up, fingers brushing his skin with a faux innocence. Without the t-shirt under the flannel a small patch of his chest hair was visible. It felt naughty for some reason, the little bit of previously hidden skin peaking out of the collar of his shirt. It didn’t help that he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows.

God, I was a lucky lady.

Watching him roll up his sleeves unashamed I caught sight of something out of place and frowned, reaching out to gently grab at his right hand. Lifting it up so I could see better in the garbage lighting of the office my eyes lifted to his. Mitch’s knuckles were bruised, a few slightly split open. Clearly from when he’d dragged that jerk out to the parking lot. Not that I’d guessed they’d had a civil conversation, but seeing physical proof of what Mitch was willing to do for me? It made the butterflies in my stomach fill up my whole body and I felt like warm butter, ready to melt if he so much as touched me.

“Thank you.” I said softly, pressing a small kiss to the back of his hand, ever mindful of his injuries. “For always saving me.”

“Y’don’t need saving, Sunny.” He responded, voice low and warm. “But I’m glad I get to.” I smiled at that, holding his hand in one of mine while the other dug around the first aid kit. “Lemme patch you up and then we can both go save Ann.”

“Alright, Darlin’. Whatever you say.”

More Mitch and Sunny here

#fanfic #mitch keller #garrett hedlund #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction #Sunny and Mitch

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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Secret Millionaire

Something was going on. I wasn’t stupid and the tension inside of the bar had me on edge. That paired with Mitch telling me to cover the bar while he stepped out tonight made me very suspicious of the Italian man seated at the bar.

I didn’t say anything, wiping up a small spill on the bar, eyes turned down to avoid looking up at Dwight and Mitch both, not wanting to have my face give away the anxiety I was feeling swirling in the pit of my stomach. It was a familiar feeling, memories flying through my head until I shook them out, grabbing a handful of dirty glasses from the small rush earlier and heading to the back. With this vibe filling the air I couldn’t even enjoy how good Mitch looked with his guitar, the plucking of strings a familiar sound now as I lived under his roof.

“Aren’t you on parole?” I stopped where I was, the deep voice of Dwight cutting through the tones of Mitch’s guitar and the sounds of the kitchen behind me. Parole? Mitch? I peeked out of the back room, looking over my boss in question. Mitch was leaned back, guitar on his thighs, plucking away a little tune as he looked at Dwight. I watched the older man dismiss him, told him he wasn’t going, and instantly I felt a little better. I liked Dwight, but more from a friendly distance. He was charming, straight forward, but I was under no illusion about what kind of man he was. I didn’t want to see him drag Mitch into anything.

“You spying, Sunshine?” Dwight asked, glancing over at me. I crossed my arms, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen entry, watching the two of them with slightly narrowed eyes. “I work here.” I sassed, looking between the two before my eyes settled on Mitch. “Guess if you have a problem with me being around bring it up with the boss.” Dwight chuckled, shaking his head and tipping back the rest of his drink. I moved forward behind the bar for once, Dwight and Mitch on bar stools, and I gestured to his glass as I grabbed the plate from Mitch’s meal. Dwight shook his head and I gave a small shrug, walking back to the kitchen to toss the dish into the washer.

I lingered in the back with Charlie, listening to his rambles about the ‘good ol’ days’ until Mitch came to the back. His guitar was gone, probably in his office, and he made his way over to where I was leaning against the counter. I was doodling on the little notebook I used for orders while listening to Charlie rant. His hand rested next to my hip on the counter, leaning there, looking down at me. “You make a habit of listening in often?” Mitch asked in a low voice, not sounding upset but more curious. Cautious. Was he worried about me overhearing him? “Listen, Mitch-” His hand closed around my upper arm, pulling me behind him towards his office. I went willingly, only stumbling at first out of surprise, not pulling against his hold. Even though Mitch was big, tall and broad, I wasn’t afraid of him. His hold on my arm was gentle, not tugging me but leading. “Coulda just grabbed my damn hand.” I grumbled as he shut the door of the office. His office was pretty bare, a few photos of his bull riding days, a big wooden desk with a comfortable chair behind it, a little couch pushed up against the far wall next to some filing cabinets and stacked boxes of alcohol. His guitar set on the couch, familiar, and I looked back up at Mitch when he let go of my arm.

“You can fire me but I’m still going to show up.” I told him, arms crossing, a little sass in my stance as I looked up at him through my lashes.

He leaned back against his desk, crossing his ankles, his hands resting next to him to grip the edge of his desk. “Ain’t firin’ ya.” “Then what was with that dramatic move?” I asked, arms uncrossing as I looked at him with curiosity now. Mitch sighed, sounding just as tired as he did after busy nights. I watched him take his hat off, brushing his hair back before pulling the cap back into place. A habit, nervous one at that, or maybe it was his version of fidgeting? Either way it was too damn attractive, he needed to stop.

“Charlie is a gossip. And if you wanted to talk about what you heard, or about Dwight, I didn’t want it getting around the town in the next five minutes.” He said, shrugging his wide shoulders before settling his blue eyes on me once more. “So go ahead. Ask. I can hear your brain working overtime in there.”

I wanted to argue but in just a few short weeks he knew me so well. “Are you really on parole?” “Yep.” I huffed, looking doubtful as I took a step closer, the toes of my running shoes tapping against the tips of his boots. “Let me guess.” I said, eyes scanning over his features, taking in the small raise of his brows. “Unpaid parking tickets?” “No.” “Stealing girl scout cookies?" “No.” He sounded amused, shaking his head.

I bit at my bottom lip in thought, eyes narrowing at him. “Slept with a cop's wife?” “Sunny-” “So no. I’m sorry Mitch I just- you are nice. Not crazy nice, mind you,” He shot me a look, unimpressed and I rolled my eyes. “Mitch, you literally took in a woman you had never met before all on the words of an old woman at a diner down the road. I could call you Saint Mitch, protector of loud mouthed women at this point.” I said, hands planting on my hips as I held his gaze. “So… what did you do?”

He sighed again, hand dragging down his face before sliding back to rub at the back of his neck, looking over my head towards the top of the door frame. “I did bull riding, was in the circuit. Was okay.” He paused as if trying to figure out how to say it. “Got hurt, got hooked on painkillers, and got in with some bad people.”

“Shit.” I said, raising my brows at him. “How much time did you get?” “About eight years.” He said, watching my reactions carefully. I wasn’t upset, more surprised than anything, and that seemed to relax him slightly. “Did my time, opened this place, and here is where I’ve been.”

“Here is where you’ve been.” I echoed, glancing down at the toe of my shoe on his boot, lips pursing slightly in thought. I stayed there a moment, absorbing everything he said, thinking over in my head before lifting my eyes once more. “Okay.” Finally said, shrugging.

He raised his brows. “Okay?” “Yeah, okay.” I said, blinking up at him. “Anything else? You aren’t on anything now, are you?”

He shook his head, frowning. “Hell no. Just smoke and drink now. Wouldn’t touch ‘em.”

I grinned. “Good. You aren’t secretly hiding that you are a millionaire to make sure you can trust me, are you?” Mitch paused, blinking at me a moment before grinning, looking almost in disbelief. “Now I can’t go telling you that, can I darlin’?” He asked with a chuckle, pulling me in to tuck me under his arm, leading us back out towards the bar. I didn’t try to pull away, instead I looped my arm around his waist as I looked up at him with a grin as he lead the way back towards the main area. “Guess not, boss.”

Read more Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #tulsa king #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #Tulsa king fanfic #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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marmie-noir · 23 days

Note

I was late night scrolling yesterday and went down a rabbit hole of videos of people line dancing and steal dancing and although it doesn’t really fit into the vibe of TK I couldn’t help think of Mitch and how he might react to seeing Sunny doing that. What do you think his reaction would be?

"No- Sunny." Ann laughed, reaching to reset me as I looked up at her with my own grin, my feet feeling like I had two lefts and no right. Ann was coordinated, obviously she had practice in this while I was looking down at my feet as she directed me. "You gotta do left, left, right, turn. There you go!" She said. I felt like a middle schooler once more trying to get a gold star sticker but in the best way. The music was louder than normal tonight, the two of us goofing off as it was dead inside of Bred-2-Buck. A new song had come on and before Mitch could scoff and change it Ann had excitedly grabbed me and pulled me towards the empty spot on the floor used as a dance floor by some of our customers. The steps weren't complicated but I wasn't exactly coordinated. "And whole rooms do this?" I asked, sounding doubtful. "Sure do Sugar, you can do it. C'mon now, left left-" I focused on what she was doing and within a few minutes we were in sync, the steps easy enough once I got used to them. I laughed, doing the spin and catching Mitch leaning on the bar. He watched me, giving me a small tip of his hat as I grinned before clapping and turning on queue. "We gotta get you out to one of the line dancin' bars Sunny!" Ann said, clearly excited about the idea. I wasn't sure about that, but this was pretty fun. I wonder if Mitch would line dance... TLDR; Mitch thinks Sunny is adorable and would help her keep beat. He's also pretty coordinated so I could see him being good at something like that but it isn't something he specifically enjoys doing, rather he likes his pretty girl spin on the dancefloor. Slow songs are more his jam but if she asked him sweetly he'd probably do almost anything.

#mitch keller #fanfic #tulsa king #garrett hedlund #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction #asks

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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What else can you do?

TW: None honestly, cute lil idea I had while I work on some more intense chapters :)

I hummed as I worked, standing behind the bar and wiping at the nicer crystal glasses that had just come in, making sure to get any water spots off them. Dwight, per usual, was perched before me next to Pops. The newest addition was Scruff, tucked away in Pop’s flannel shirt he had opened, the little dog’s head sticking out and showing he was clearly sleeping, the little snores also a great indicator. It was a nice, peaceful day at Bred-2-Buck, something that was rare in general.

“So Sunny,” Dwight said, elbows on the bar as his dark eyes focused on me. I glanced up at him, setting the glass down. “Pretty good with a gun. What else can you do?” I contemplated a moment, thinking over what I would consider a ‘skill’ versus something I’d rather keep to myself. With a childhood like mine some skills were better left as surprises for later. “Well,” I started, giving a small shrug. “I can hotwire most anything. But I haven’t tried on anything newer than a 2015, so I wouldn’t swear on that. And I’m a pretty good pickpocket.” I said, lifting a hand and wiggling my fingers with a little smile, mischief dancing in my eyes. “Why?”

“How good of a pickpocket?” I gave another shrug, unsure how to quantify it. Dwight thought for a few moments, fingers brushing over his chin, eyes narrowed slightly as he inspected me. “Show me.” “How?” I asked, hands falling to my hips as I gave Dwight a slightly exasperated expression. If he expected me to go into town and come back with a handful of wallets he had another thing coming. Dwight leaned back in his seat with a grin, meaning he was absolutely up to something. “Hey Mitch!” He called, deep voice practically booming through the empty bar. There was the sound of shuffling and Mitch appeared, drying his hands on a dish towel, cigarette hanging from his lips. “Yeah?” He asked, cigarette bobbing, blue eyes glancing up at Dwight. The New Yorker grabbed one of the menus and let it land on the bar, pointing at something. “I think we should talk about the menu for when we redo this place. The ribs are great, but the burgers.” “What is wrong with the burgers?” Mitch asked, heading towards where I was still standing behind the bar in front of Mitch. Dwight looked at me, giving me a little look, and I caught on. I flashed Mitch a smile as he came closer, moving as if I was going to get out from behind the bar and having to pass him to do so. It wasn’t a tight squeeze by any means, the two of us could easily move around the other in the space, but I played up being in his way, the two of us moving in the same direction. “Sorry.” I said sweetly, chin tipped up as I reached out, hands on his hips as I sidestepped him. Mitch quirked a brow at me with an amused expression but didn’t say anything, not feeling when my fingers dipped into his pockets as I brushed past, pulling a well loved leather wallet from within.

I walked around the bar and moved to sit next to Dwight, my proof in my hands. As Mitch wound up about how the burgers were good and didn’t need to be changed I flipped open the wallet, looking at his license. A younger Mitch was on the ID and I grinned, scanning over his name. “Hold on.” I cut him off mid-burger justification, eyes lifting to meet his. “Your middle name is Wayne?” Mitch’s brows shot up and I lifted the wallet up like it was a book. “Mitchell Wayne Keller? Born- oh my.” I said playfully, snapping the wallet closed as he patted his pockets, looking very confused as to how it ended up in my hands.

“Where the hell did you find that?” He asked, snatching it out of my hands as I smiled up at him. Really I didn’t care how old he wasn’t, it was like it was a huge age gap either way. But I did like to pick on him when I could, Mitch was normally so collected it was nice to shake the cage a little bit.

“Your pocket.” Dwight said next to me, Mitch and I both turned to look at the man.

“Pardon?” “She took it out of your pocket.” Pops added, looking far too amused on his usual perch. Mitch looked between me and the other two men, processing what they said before leaning on the bar in front of me, wallet between his fingers as he focused on me. “You mean to tell me, darlin’, that you just snatched this out of my pocket?” I nodded, looking up at him innocently. He narrowed his eyes slightly before looking back at Dwight and Pops. “You two are bad influences, you leave this girl alone.”

“Mitch!” I laughed, Dwight and Pops both cracking smiles as well as the bar owner huffed, rolling his eyes before winking at me. The warmth in my chest had my cheeks coloring as I laughed, shaking my head and hopping off the stool to go clean the last few tables.

More Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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marmie-noir · 2 months

Text

Scruff

TW: Animal abuse, blood, violence.

Wasn't super sure on this one but I couldn't get the idea of out of my head so here you go internet.

I huffed, tying off the large trash bag with a scrunch of my nose at the smell of bad fried food and lord knows what else. I offered to help out in the kitchen, getting it cleaned and closed up, while Mitch finished something in his office. Tossing the large bag over my shoulder I almost tipped over, barely catching myself and hearing Charlie letting out a low laugh, shaking his head. I had insisted I could do this, and I was damn well going to do it.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up old man.” I said, cracking a smile myself, using my hip to open the back door that lead to the area with a few dumpsters for the bar to use. Getting the bag up over the lip of the dumpster wasn’t exactly easy but being told I couldn’t do something only made me want to do it more. After a little more effort it fell in and I brushed my hands together, giving a nod at a job well done.

My hand was on the handle when I heard a thud and a whimper. I froze, eyes stuck on faded paint of the door, listening. There was the grumble of a man, a grunt, and that whimper once more. I pulled back from the door, blood running cold with fury as I stepped around the area that enclosed the dumpsters, eyes searching for whatever was making that noise.

It didn’t take much, there was a half drunk man in a cowboy hat. He was cursing at whatever was curled up on the ground, pulling his leg back and kicking it. Hard. It whined, the noise breaking my heart. “Hey!” I shouted, the force behind the word giving away how furious I was at seeing what I was seeing. The man stumbled, looking up at me and squinting his eyes before scoffing.

“Git back inside that bar girl.” Fat fucking chance. I moved closer, eyes trained on the man, hands clenching into fists. “No. Why don’t you leave?” I said, voice low and firm. The man made another dismissive noise, clearly not in the mood to deal with me. That was fine, he didn’t have to be in the mood, but he was not going to be kicking whatever was whining on the pavement between us.

“Get in your truck and leave. Last chance.” I warmed him, chin tipping up, measuring him up. He was taller but not as tall as Mitch, round in the middle, pretty average over all. With him being fairly drunk as well I liked my odds. I knew he’d been drinking whiskey for at least a few hours, he was a straggler that Mitch had kicked out at closing.

“Don’t get to tell me what to do, don’t get to tell me nothin’.” He slurred, leg pulling back again.

I moved fast, lunging forward and throwing a hard right hook. It connected with his jaw, he hadn’t been expecting it, sending him sideways in a stumbling fall. The sound of his head connecting with the wooden fence around the dumpsters was satisfying and he groaned, slumping against it.

I watched him a few moments before flexing my hand, shaking it a moment before crouching down. In the low light of the back part of the lot I could make out a little bit but it seemed to be a small dog of some kind, with dark fur, curled up and shaking.

“Hey, you are gonna be okay sweetheart.” I murmured, pulling my hoodie off and placing it on the injured animal, gently working on scooping them up and against my chest, trying to not move them too much. It’s little body was shaking hard, a small yip indicating moving hurt. “I know, I know, I’m so sorry.” I hushed the animal, fingers brushing over his muzzle to try to calm him, moving as quickly and carefully as I could back inside.

I walked through the kitchen, ignoring Charlie when he asked what took me so long to throw out the trash. I exited the kitchens and walked to Mitch’s office, opening the door. For once the man was behind his desk, sitting and looking over a few sheets of invoices, squinting at his computer. He glanced up, flashing me a smile before it fell, seeing my face. “Darlin’, what the hell?” He asked, pushing himself up and moving towards me where I stood in the doorway, feet rooted on the spot and an injured dog bleeding in my arms. “Mitch.” I spoke softly, feeling tears threatening to break my voice, blinking up at him. “I-I went to take the trash out and there was this asshole and he was kicking the dog and I, I hit him. And now I’ve got this dog and he’s hurt, Mitch he’s hurt bad, and I don’t know what to do-” He listened, blue eyes jumping from my face and back to the little bundle in my arms before flying back up when I mentioned that I had hit someone. “Take a breath darlin’, c’mon now. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” His big hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing against my cheekbone for a moment before he looked back down at the dog. “There is an emergency vet a few miles away. C’mon, let’s go.” He said, hand sliding to my lower back, gently guiding me as he snatched his keys and wallet. I nodded, keeping the dog loosely held in my arms, feeling him still shaking like a little leaf in the wind.

Mitch moved past me for a moment to duck into the kitchen, telling Charlie to go check and see who the fuck was in the back lot before coming back to my side, warm hand once more keeping me focused.

It felt like I blinked and I was in his truck. Mitch turned on the heater, his large hand now finding a home against my bare thigh as he glanced behind us, backing out of the spot before exiting the Bred-2-Buck lot. We drove, the music turned down so low I could barely hear it, looking down at the little dog swaddled up in my hoodie.

“Right, I’m gonna need you to tell me what happened.” Mitch spoke lowly, calmly, and I latched onto his calm confidence like the lifeline he was.

I nodded, swallowing thickly, another tell tale sign that tears were trying to spring up once more. I pushed them down, sniffling quietly before clearing my throat. “I was takin the trash out cause Charlie told me it was too heavy for me and I wanted to prove him wrong. And there was a man, the one who had been at the bar most of the day. Mitch he was… he was beating the shit out of this dog. I don’t even know if it’s his but I couldn’t do nothin’, and I told him to go away but he went to kick the dog again and I just- I swung.” I ran a finger up and down the nose of the dog, trying to offer what comfort I could without knowing the extent of it’s injuries. “He stumbled, hit his head on the dumpster wall. Groaned so he’s alive.” Mitch nodded, thumb brushing back and forth on my thigh, eyes on the road. His jaw flexed slightly, he was not happy, but I knew I wasn’t the target. “I gotta get better lights back there.” He said, changing lanes, obviously being careful to not jostle me with the dog more than necessary.

“I don’t think this is a lighting problem. I think is a fucking asshole problem.” I murmured, eyes lifting to the windshield to see the 24 hour vet sign in neon coming up fast. I relaxed slightly, hold still gentle on the animal in my arms.

Mitch parked, walking around and opening the truck door for me so I could slide out without jarring the creature more than necessary. The lobby of the office was bright, a single worker at the horse shoe that made up the front desk, a middle aged woman wearing light purple scrubs.

It happened fast which was a relief. We were shown to a room, a vet taking custody of the dog and gently laying him down on the table, looking him over. The dog, confirmed male, was a little terrier mix. He was bleeding, would need some stitches, and the vet said he was concerned about one of his back legs. He was a cute little thing, with big brown eyes that looked up at me, body shaking like he’d been caught in a storm.

Immediately my heart clenched and I must have made a noise or moved because Mitch’s hand found mine. I squeezed hard, fingers brushing against his rings, leaning against his arm as he looked at the vet, listening to what the other man was saying. A few more words were exchanged, he gave the vet his cell phone number, and we were leaving for them to work on the little dog.

Stepping out Mitch made sure I made it back into the truck, climbing into the drivers side once more. He didn’t start the truck, instead looking over at me with a frown. The silence was thick but I was busy staring at the vet’s office. After a few beats I noticed I was wet and glanced down to find blood smeared on my shirt and arms.

“Oh fuck.” I murmured, reaching to open the glove compartment to grab some napkins. They didn’t do much, but I tried still, scrubbing until my skin was pink and angry at me. “Darlin- darlin’ stop. Hey. We will go home, you can take a shower, okay?” Mitch asked, grabbing at my hand. He squeezed and I looked over at him, nodding. “Okay.”

He didn’t let go of my hand the whole ride home, not even to shift, and I clung to it. When we got home I was quiet, disappearing into the bathroom. Mitch followed me to the door, hands tucking into his pockets and watching me as I looked up at him, his boot stopping me from closing the door.

“Are you sure you are okay?” He asked quietly.

I hesitated, eyes dropping from his to his chest. After a few seconds I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “No, I’m not.” I admitted, feeling my shoulders fall, my eyes and throat burning.

“Oh honey.” He said quietly, seeing the tears well in my eyes. He moved forward and I fell into him, arms wrapping around his middle as his own wrapped around my body, pressing me closer against him, unbothered with the blood and my tears.

I sobbed against his chest, hiding there, letting it out. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so cruel, how someone could hurt a creature like that, the sounds and the smells and the images of the entire event playing, the sound of the dog’s pathetic whimper with each hit running on repeat in my head.

My tears soaked into his shirt and he was a sweetheart about it, big hand smoothing up and down my back while the other cradled the back of my head, pressing kisses to my crown. “That is it. Let it out, baby, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.” He reassured, the vibration of his voice through his chest reassuring in a way I didn’t understand and didn’t care to question.

“How do you know?” I sniffled against his chest, hands fisting the back of his shirt. He smelled like bar food and bourbon with a little smoke, and I relaxed against him.

He looked down at me, his hand on my head moving to wipe at my tears with a soft smile. I blinked, fat tears rolling down my cheeks for him to wipe away once more, eyes meeting mine. “Because you saved him, Sunny. He’s gonna be just fine. And then we will have a little yappy dog waddling around here to keep an eye on Pops.”

I let out a wet sounding laugh, the image enough to break the noise from me. His smile widened and he nodded, cupping my face with his big hands and leaned down to press a kiss to my lips. It was salty and wet from my tears, but was reassuring. I grabbed at one of his wrists, my other hand still wrapped in his shirt, kissing him back until he broke the kiss to smile at me.

“It’s gonna be fine.” “Okay, Mitch.”

Per usual, Mitch was correct. After a few days we were called to take possession of the little ankle biter the vet staff had lovingly dubbed Scruff, because he was rather scruffy looking even after a quick hair trim they had given him to prep him for surgery. He was a small terrier mix no bigger than twenty-five pounds with big brown eyes, dark spotted fur, and a little nub for a tail. And he looked adorable with his front left leg in a neon pink cast, the little dog ‘thump thump thump’ing after whatever staff was working behind the front desk as they had started to let him roam a little bit for a few hours a day.

Mitch surprised me with him, picking him up one morning and bringing the little demon home with some dog items, including a bag of food that would probably feed him for a year. I heard the front door snap shut and peeked out of the kitchen to see Mitch holding the dog under one arm, a bag of supplies under another.

Scruff was a damn good dog. The vet guessed he was older but wasn’t exactly sure. But he was smart, knew how to sit, stay, and probably more but we didn’t want to pull at any of his bandages or the cast. The little dog, with all the audacity of a pitbull, had accepted all the love I had to give and then waddled over to where Pops was seated on his recliner.

The old man scooped the dog up, depositing him on his lap where the dog fell asleep in a matter of minutes. I smiled, leaning against Mitch, watching Pops pet the dog and keep watching the news as if everything was the way it was supposed to be. And I guess it was.

Read more Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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