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honkytonk-hangman · 4 months

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Just Another Thing – [1]

Walt 'Finn' Finnegan x Reader/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might've thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan's usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm'.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn't come up very often.

Notes: oh boy oh boy oh boy you have no clue how excited i am for this fic. it's literally been in the works for over a year. i'd even go as far as to say it's my fave fic in recent memory!!! Im not sure yet how many parts, but the story does have a beginning and end.

It's not necessary to have watched the film before reading this fic, as this is set in the year after, around 1982, however certain character dynamics could be confusing. Also i definitely headcanon Finn and Beverly becoming good friends, hidden beneath a layer of exasperation of course but he is definitely the type to go to all the theatre stuff like come on look at him!!!!!

okay enough from me now heres the fic I really hope you enjoy!!!

You register the alarm on your friends’ face’s far too late to do anything, and the next thing you know you’re clutching the crown of your head, a dull throbbing ache now pulsing under your fingertips.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation, you’ve been hit in the head by a ball plenty of times, but the sheer weight behind this particular impact stood out to you. That, and you knew it couldn’t have been the volleyball you and your friend’s were playing with, because you currently held it.

“What the fu–” you begin angrily, already whipping around in the direction you’d been hit, cutting yourself off at the sight of an approaching man, a look of genuine remorse painted on his features as he jogs toward you. Behind him, a group of guys with baseball gloves watch on with various cringing expressions. Just as the man nears you, his eyes subtly travel up and down your figure, his lip quirking with approval, but he keeps his face apologetic. He comes to a stop several feet away, where the baseball had landed, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin at you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, and it at least sounds sincere. “Roper’s never had much of an eye.”

You purse your lips, but try not to look too angry. He was cute, you realise dumbly, still rubbing your head. Dirty blond hair settled in light waves at the top of his collar, a matching blond moustache groomed neatly above his upper lip. He was tall, broad across the shoulders and chest in a way you’d only ever really seen on guys who worked out, athletes and the like. He also looked a little older than a lot of the students you’d see walking around campus, and he certainly didn’t approach you with the confidence of a freshman, so you figure he must be at least an upperclassmen.

“Well, maybe y'all should work on that with him,” you grumble lightly, and drop your hand.

“You okay?” he nods at your head, and you shift to lean on one foot, not missing the flicker of his eyes to watch as you do, or the way he lingers on your rapidly rising and falling chest before he meets your eye again.

“Isn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last. Hair probably won’t sit right tonight, though,” you complain.

“Big date?” he asks, the teasing tone unmistakable. You lift your chin a little indignantly.

“I’m sure your day is just riding on my answer, but I don’t feel particularly inclined on telling you that,” you huff, heart rate doubling when he laughs, looking away from you for the first time as he grins widely.

“Well, how about this,” he starts once he’s sobered, bending down to swipe the baseball from the grass, taking a step toward you as he does. “The next time I see you, I promise you won’t get hit in the head,” he waves the ball as if you need reminding, but takes another step closer. “And you tell me what night works best to take you out?”

You fail to hide the amused smile that pulls at your lips, but then again, you weren’t really one for playing hard to get. You can see now that he’s only a few feet away, that his eyes are a startling green, and you think you wouldn’t mind running into him again, sans head injury.

“Alright,” you tell him, stepping back with a nod. “Next time.”

It takes all of your will power to turn away from him and move back towards your friends, though you feel his eyes on you for some distance, and make sure you swing your hips just a little more than you usually might.

Part of you regrets not making plans then and there, but the other part of you shivers at the already building tension of your potential next meeting.

Squinting at your reflection in the mirror, you flip your feathery waves once more over your shoulder, before almost immediately letting it fall back where it was. Just as you’d predicted, thanks to the decent-sized lump on the crown of your head, your Jerry Hall blowout was looking less supermodel and more super-odd.

Scrunching your nose as you mess with your tresses one last time, let out a huff, and force yourself to turn away, just in time for Nancy to appear at your open door, her curled fingers tapping gently on the wood.

“Hey Kimber,” she begins, pausing to give you a whistle as you exit your bathroom and do a twirl for her. Your collared halter-neck jumpsuit was supposed to be worn with a ruffle-neck blouse, but you’d never intended to style it that way, not to mention it was tight enough that you’re not totally sure you’d even be able to fit said blouse beneath it anyway.

“Something’s telling me Miss Texas ‘56 didn’t have this particular ensemble in mind when she ordered this for you outta her fancy lil’ Saks catalogue…” Nancy teases. You roll your eyes.

“Saks don’t do catalogues.” you correct her with a faux air of haughtiness, but don’t bother to contend her point. All of your housemates were more than familiar with your former Beauty Queen mother, despite never having met her. The monthly ‘care packages’ she sent you, filled with various ‘in season’ (see: frivolous) items of clothing and ‘essentials’ spoke volumes about who exactly Mrs Charlene Wynne was. That mostly just amounting to ‘eternally neurotic but well-meaning’.

Nancy pokes her tongue out at you and scoffs out a laugh.

“Whatever, the point is; Mama doesn't always know best. You look foxy!”

You let out a laugh and smooth your hands over your thighs, thanking her softly.

You weren’t at all oblivious to the way you looked. Certainly you were no Raquel Welch, but most days you could manage something in the realm of Christie Brinkley or Cheryl Ladd, which was pretty damn good. You had your mother to thank for that, though your dad was no slouch either, but considering your mother couldn’t walk ten steps without someone recognising her from her Miss Texas win almost thirty years ago, you’ll give her most of the credit. As a result of your parent’s contributions, you’d become aware fairly quickly of the effect you tended to have on men, especially College men.

“Did you need me for something?” you prompt after a few more moments of Nancy preening over your outfit, remembering that she had come up here with a purpose some minutes ago now. Nancy blinks, before she makes a soft gasping sound, and straightens up.

“That’s right! Beverley arrived a little while ago, she was asking for you!” she informs you, waving her hand in the vague direction of the stairs and the party quickly coming to life on the first floor.

“I’m coming now!” you tell her, giving your hair one last flip before you move for your door, closing it behind you and quickly following Nancy as she all but skips.

The ‘little’ get together had officially started a little while ago, but you’d had a study group that had run long, meaning you were now fashionably late to your own houseparty, if there were even such a thing.

Almost immediately once you crest the lower steps, you feel yourself shift into focus, totally in your element now, a cool, easy smile finding a place on your features. It isn’t difficult for you to move through the light throngs of people, despite your arrival not going unnoticed by those around you, but instead of excusing yourself meekly past distracted conversationalists, you’re liked enough that partygoers both consciously and subconsciously make way for you, plenty of familiar faces greeting you warmly in passing as you go.

You aren't surprised to find the kitchen milling with guests too, though the music is a little quieter here, so you figure it will remain more sparsely populated until later in the night, when everyone is comfortably tipsy.

“Kimberley!” A female voice calls out, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’d come to expect as much from anyone deeply involved in theatre.

“Beverly!” you match her energy, volume and all, knowing that she was likely already feeling a little out of place among the other guests, who were all mostly part of the College’s various sports teams and who you suspect weren’t even aware there even was a theatre program.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning ecstatically, overjoyed to see your friend for the first time since classes had commenced for the year. However, you feel more than you see the redhead that collides with you, her much shorter frame crashing into yours with a comforting force, and thanks to your non incosiderable height, as well as your many years playing volleyball, you hardly even budge from the impact, even in your chunky platform heels. You quickly hug Beverley in return, but far sooner than you’d like, she’s pulling back and launching into what sounds like a planned monologue.

“Okay! So, you know how ages ago I said I was going to set you up with one of Jake’s housemates from the baseball house?” Beverly starts, already waving her hands expressively, her expression bright and excited. You search your mind, but honestly, you aren’t sure if the conversation sounds familiar or not. You’d had a lot of people say similar things to you throughout your college career so far. Most of the time they were totally off-base matches, but you were always happy to experience new things, new people.

Beverley doesn’t wait for your reply though, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, of course the team was invited tonight, meaning I can finally introduce you!” she exclaims, looking wildly over her shoulder, as though the person in question was supposed to be just behind her. When she sees an empty kitchen, she frowns and purses her lips. The glimmer of annoyance is wiped from her face by the time she’s looking back at you, and she huffs good-naturedly.

“I told him to wait for me…” she links your arms as she speaks, and you happily let her lead you to the kitchen door, where a light bubble of conversation floats through from outside. You have to let out a laugh at her sheer excitement, which appears genuine, though not in her usual manner.

The usual manner meaning that every so often when the two of you found yourselves at the same club or bar, whenever she or her friend’s were being bothered, the pretty redhead would giddily inform you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, then standing back and watching gleefully as you casually sapped up the creep’s attention, only to bluntly shoot him down and send him off.

You don’t get the feeling this is one of those times, but from what you knew of the baseball team, you very well may have to do some shooing on your own behalf tonight.

Outside on the tiny back-deck, a small group of people had gathered and right away your brain sparks with familiarity, though you have very little time to consider this before Beverley is releasing your arm and stepping forward. She smiles brightly as she sweeps between you and a man who turns around as if on cue.

“Finn, this is Kimberley Wynn! Kimberley, this is Finn! I am almost certain that the two of you will get along famously,” Beverely announces with a flourish and a wink. You and Finn both blink startled at one another for several moments, before mutual recognition quickly sets in. Your lips slowly pull into a wide grin, and you don’t bother hiding the fact that you’re now looking him over with no subtly, just as he’d done to you earlier in the park.

“I’m not about to get clobbered again, am I?” you begin flirtily, glad that the man, Finn, recognises you as well, though unlike you, he seems to avoid taking the opportunity to check you out again, to his loss. Instead, he smiles big, almost showmanly, and takes up a slight lean on the railing behind him.

“If it’s any consolation, your hair looks great,” Finn replies cooly, and it’s almost as though you’d never parted ways at all. You flick your hair over your shoulder, seeing how his eyes follow the movement before they’re locked back on yours and you already know you’ve got this man hook, line and sinker.

“Luckily for you,” you sniff, though your smile undercuts any real resentment. Finn seems to grin a little wider then, more genuinely than the showman smile. You think the way his eyes crinkle in the corners is sweet, and that he should smile that way all the time.

“Wait, you two already know each other?!” Beverley cuts in, suddenly reminding you that she was in fact still standing there, watching and listening. “How?!” the redhead demands, not going so far as to stomp a foot, but she does cross her arms in a huff as she looks between the two of you in betrayed disbelief, though you note most of her ire seems directed at Finn.

The blonde swings his gaze back to the shorter woman, seemingly tickled by her apparent annoyance, yet his teasing expression is full to the brim with endeared fondness. You get the impression that this was the natural state of their friendship, and that Finn is about to say something inflammatory just to get a bigger rise, which might be a little funny, but you cut in before he can speak, relieving Beverly of her confusion.

“All Star over here threw a baseball at my head this afternoon,” you say pointedly, making sure he doesn’t mistake your happiness to see him for forgiveness. Finn holds his hands up then, and jerks a thumb in the direction of a man in the larger group of party goers on the porch.

“Roper threw a baseball at your head this afternoon,” he corrects you, as though that should absolve you of your attitude.

“Oh, that’s right! You just failed to catch it!” you tease, watching as he winces dramatically and grasps at his chest.

“You wound me sweetheart!” he exclaims ruefully, and despite the vaguely amicable antagonism, you can see now why he and Beverly are friends.

“Then we’re even.” You say. You already agree with the redhead’s earlier assessment; the two of you were going to get along famously.

Finn shrugs in a manner that reads more as relenting than indifference, and at least some of his overly performative act comes away. Beverley scoffs a laugh, rolling her eyes heavily as she reaches out to shove Finn in the arm. He sways, you think for her benefit, which makes you smile.

“Only you could throw a baseball that hits the one girl on campus who’d actually put up with you…” she snorts, seemingly assuming his chances with you were now dashed. Finn raises a finger in protest.

“As we just discussed, I only failed to catch the ball that hit the one girl on campus who may or may not be willing to put up with me. I’d like that to go on record.” He smiles at her simperingly. Beverley regards him with a withering look for several seconds, before choosing to ignore him entirely, turning to you.

“Have fun.” she says, sounding much more like her usual manner, though before you can tell her it’s alright, she’s already spun away, and when you find her again, she’s tucking herself under the arm of her boyfriend, Jake.

You shake your head, and look back at Finn, finding his gaze already locked on you. He pushes away from the railing then, and steps toward you.

“You know what this is?” he asks you, once more sounding like an actor reading lines, and gesturing between you. “Fate.” he says, lowering his voice somewhat like it was a secret just for the two of you.

You cock your head at his odd little act, though you aren’t entirely un-charmed by it. It was rather different to when you’d met this afternoon, despite his blatant flirting then, now it was as if you were speaking with a completely different person. A stage magician, perhaps.

“So, why don’t we go get a drink in your hand, and then you can tell me which day works for our upcoming date.” Finn gives a slight flourish, and while his whole demeanour is still clearly put on, there is an endearing element to his theatrics, a silliness that you might find more charming if it didn’t feel so much like he was performing for you.

He offers you his arm graciously, which you can imagine combined with his hyped up charm, would have plenty of women already giggling into their sleeves, which you don’t do, but you do place your other hand over his warm skin as well, and allow him to lead you back into the kitchen.

“So what’ll it be? Beer? Fruity punch? Fruity punch and beer?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and even though he’s still playing a role of some kind, it’s not hard for you to see through it.

“Fruity punch,” you say decisively. “Can’t stand the taste of beer.” You tell him honestly, watching as he goes about procuring you a glass of the punch you yourself had made, and appreciating the effort he puts in to make sure you have at least two cherries, though, you don’t think he means it to be suggestive, despite your own thoughts going straight to the gutter over the matter.

“So, what you’re saying is; I should switch to the punch if I want to test this theory about you being the one girl on campus who’ll put up with me later?” he asks in amusement, at last handing you your drink, his eyes sparkling. You accept the drink and give a noncommittal shrug as you take a small sip.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, but I’ll certainly appreciate it later.” You really feel no need to go along with his act, not seeing any reason to play coy about your intentions, not in the way he seemed to feel was par for the course at least. You watch as Finn takes a moment to actually process your words, a brief mix of surprise and curiosity passing over his features, but it’s quickly covered up by a much more ‘cool’ looking mask.

You have to crack a smile at his sheer determination to convince you to have sex with him, the poor man somehow didn’t realise he was preaching to the choir.

“You really do look fantastic, by the way,” Finn says after a few moments of awkward quiet pass. You push aside your amusement, and grin happily at him, smoothing your hand over the material fondly.

“Thanks! I feel like one of ‘Charlie’s Angels’,” you gush a little, briefly feeling silly for bringing up the comparison, however, this time Finn’s smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way you liked, making his whole face seem softer and more natural, pouring with warmth.

“Trust me, Farrah’s got nothing on you right now,” he tells you sweetly, continuing to fondly watch you preen, not just at the compliment, but because you think this might be the first time all evening he isn’t speaking from some kind of script.

The moment passes quickly, though, and as you duck your head to accept his praise, you see his face momentarily scrunching up in a wince, like he was scolding himself for saying something so saccharine. You consider telling him that you found the sweetness endlessly more endearing than any of the other lines so far, but you hold your tongue. You had a small feeling that his pretence was really more about him, than about you, at least to a degree.

Finn is about halfway through earnestly telling you about his apparently ‘average’ sized cock when you at last run out of patience. The gimmick itself was entertaining enough, definitely an original approach to picking up women, and you’d even played along to start with, but you can’t help wondering why you’re standing around talking about his cock when you could be doing other things with it instead.

While he’s still talking, you reach into your pocket and dig around for a moment, before you find what you’re after. Finn trails off when you turn and lay the coin face-side up on his forearm. He blinks at it in confusion, for a few seconds, before looking questioningly up at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask before he can speak again, and force yourself not to pump your fist triumphantly when his confusion is quickly replaced with affection. Sure, you knew he wanted to have sex with you already, but now he thought you were cute, too.

“Alright,” he answers simply, fully angling his body toward yours, leaning in closer to you at the same time.

“So, this whole ‘average sized cock’ thing, does it actually work? I mean, has it worked when you’ve used it before?” you tip your head up at him, genuinely curious, but you don’t miss the way Finn’s features fall blank for a second after you speak, his smile fading, replaced with mild discomfort. He seems to shift back from you slightly, regarding you once more before he replies.

“I guess this is the time it doesn’t.” He all but mutters, his frown deepening as he looks away from you again, clearing his throat this time and straightening up, obviously embarrassed. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at you evenly.

“Could’ve stopped me earlier,” he says a little stiffly, though seemingly coming to terms with whatever direction he now thought this conversation was taking. You can’t help yourself then, his sulking making you laugh, fully and joyfully, but before he can sulk further, you lay your hand gently on his arm, over the penny, and give him a light squeeze. You shake your head as your laughter dies down, and fix him with a warm expression

“I never said it wasn’t working– in a manner of speaking,” You softly tell him, watching as he blinks down at you. You hurry to explain. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t working, but only because it’s totally unbelievable.”

Finn at last relaxes somewhat, though his slight frown remains as he considers your complaint.

“What’s so unbelievable about it?” he demands, in a way that tells you this pick-up tactic was one he was proud of, though clear playfulness had returned to his voice.

Confident that you were now talking, actually talking to Finn as he was, and not as he thought would get him laid, you feel energised to engage with the subject matter more seriously. You scoff and roll your eyes at his indignation.

“Firstly,” you start, shifting to lean on your hip, bringing you closer once again. “No guy is ever going to accept, let alone admit that he has an average sized-cock, and he’s definitely not going to admit it to a woman he wants to fuck.” You say matter-of-factly, though you didn’t have anything more than your not-insubstantial intimate experiences with men to go off of as proof.

“Guys who really are average, don’t think that they are, and they probably never will because no woman is going to bring up the fact that his seven inch cock looks suspiciously closer to five.” you wave your hands a little, not realising before now that you really had any firm opinions on this subject.

You see the cogs in Finn’s brain turning as he regards your words with something that resembles amused but genuine interest. You figure he hadn’t expected you to really have a point, which to be fair, you hadn’t expected either. You do plan to let him respond, but you suddenly remember something else you’d been thinking about earlier, when he’d first brought up the concept.

“–And! In my experience, guys who do have big cocks, they don’t really say anything, or they mislead you entirely, so that they can get off on hearing you telling him how big he is.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Finn, who shrugs a shoulder in admittance at that point at the very least. He’d returned at last to watching you fondly, and you think once more that Beverley had been spot on in introducing the two of you. You’re pretty sure Finn is the only man who would so happily, or nonchalantly debate with you about the size of other men’s cocks, just as you’re sure that you’re the only woman on campus who has ever challenged him on it.

Finn hums in thought. “So, you believe men will only ever overcompensate or undercompensate?” he asks, but it's more of a statement. He watches you intently as he tips his chin, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

A moment passes between the two of you, before Finn leans forward, right into your space, wearing a pleased smirk.

“In that case honey,” he starts, voice sounding a little deeper now, huskier somehow. “What’s the verdict then?” he stares at you unwaveringly, challenging you. You frown.

“The verdict on what?” you ask, though at this point you couldn’t muster much genuine interest, not when all this verbal foreplay was slowing down the process of getting him in your bedroom for some actual foreplay.

Finn’s smirk grows then, seemingly glad you’d asked. You watch as his eyes dip briefly down to your chest, where his height and closeness grant him a very good view of your tits. He meets your gaze again before he speaks.

“Do you think I’m overcompensating, or undercompensating?”

You blink and stare at him as you process, not even bothering to hide your captivation, but it lasts for mere seconds before your lips are curling into a coy smile to match his own. You copy his move then, dropping your eyes to take in the front of his jeans, but you don’t look back up again as he had. Instead, you reach out and begin tracing his belt buckle. Finn inhales sharply, clearly taken off guard by your forwardness, which was clearly working for him.

You’re momentarily distracted from his belt as you catch sight of the rather sizable bulge forming at the front of his pants, giving you a pretty good idea of what the verdict should be. You lick your lips without really thinking, but take full advantage of the way Finn’s eyes follow the movement, tracing the path over your now wet mouth as he awaits your answer. You lean in, closing the miniscule distance between you at last, and give his belt a teasing little tug toward you.

“Y’know, I haven’t a clue,” you lie nonchalantly, your smile only growing when you use his belt to pull yourself in and press right up against his front. “But I’d love to find out.”

#everybody wants some!!#walt finn finnegan #finnegan x reader #walt finnegan x reader #idk what to tag ethis even

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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glen powell in ‘everybody wants some!!’

song name: ‘miss broadway’ by belle epoque

@six-bloodyminutes and @gigisimsonmars your wish is my command!! (i had to cut out the scenes in between because of titties, but nothing with glen was missed!! <3)

#i want you all to know the hot and heavy make out scene will be living rent free and taking up my entire brain #glen powell #walt finn finnegan #everybody wants some #everybody wants some!!

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stilinskiderek · 2 years

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EVERYBODY WANTS SOME!! (2016)

Dir. Richard Linklater

#everybody wants some #everybody wants some!!#glen powell #movies #**mine #*blows a kiss to the sky* for my fellow jake seresin girlies #someday i will have jake gifs for u all but for now u get cowboy glen :)#the visuals for this movie are unmatched #(tyler hoechlin crop top glen powell cowboy hat)#gp

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veritable-trash · 1 year

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You Know The Rules

look at that stupid slutty mustache... god please answer my prayers just this once

Pairing: Finnegan(Everybody Wants Some!!) x Fem!Reader

Summary: God you hate him.

Word Count: 2K

Rating: M - mainly for drugs babayyyyy, weed, that good, otherwise it's pretty clean in these sheets(this time around)

A/N: haha. no one asked for this. but listen! all my glen powell sloots we need to remember the original. sweet daddy finnegan. mustached, shaggy haired, 80s baseball player i mean i couldn't have written a sluttier man if i tried. this movie isn't the greatest, but the music is dope, the outfits are cute, and it serves as a public service announcement that men need to start wearing crop tops IMMEDIATELY. this is a petition for men to start dressing like sluts again so i can finally be at peace. anyways this is completely and utterly self serving but the glen powell top gun resurgence just kept reminding me that this is peak glen to me. give me mustaches or give me death!

sorry that i haven't written... or literally done anything of value in an eon. my brain has given up and also i moved and am currently unemployed and am about to go travel for three months and want to write but have zero inspiration and tumblr makes me sad because everyone is so good at writing and i am a troll under a bridge. this is me trying to release the need to produce things of "value" because does that even mean anymore? i hope someone finds this a little fun because honestly i kinda did :) hugs and kisses <;33333

tell me what you think! i'm literally begging! on my hands and knees! the desperation is palpable yeesh

masterlist yay yay!!!

~~~~~

College.

What a fucking heinous place. Filled with suffocating expectations, the constant need to pretend you’re someone you’re not because of everyone else’s supposed opinions of you.

It made you want to vomit.

And yet here you were, cowering in the corner of the kitchen at this stupid, lame, awful college party. A baseball party no less. Those absolute heathens. Probably the worst category of men on this campus by about 20 miles and you were definitely counting.

The joint you haphazardly rolled in the absolutely disgusting bathroom crackles between your lips as you try to tune out every single person here and catch the steady baseline of the song playing hoping that that will somehow lull you into a state of calm.

This new weed sucked shit. All stems, all seeds, and got you high for about 30 seconds. You were going to kill Willoughby when you saw him. Honestly the only baseball player in this house you liked and even he was about to get moved right onto the shit list with the rest of the men of this house.

Your friends had badgered you endlessly all week to ask Willoughby for the invite, not that you really need to even ask him. Girls? More than one? The baseball boys were already salivating like it was their last meal on death row.

The standards in this place were in the fucking basement.

Some would call you a pessimist. Angry, bitchy, snippy, negative, the whole gambit and they might be right. But college was a fucking weird ass place that made your skin crawl and your anxiety spike and all you wanted to do was smoke your green, pass your classes, and watch your cartoons in peace, please and thank you.

And then his voice cut through your slow building haze like a serrated knife on a chalkboard. Made of sandpaper.

“Sweetheart! I thought Willoughby mentioned you’d be here, and why am I not surprised you’re toking it up alone in our kitchen, my favorite little stoner weirdo.”

Finnegan.

The absolute ultimate fuck.

Mustached, wide shoulders, shaggy blonde, crisp baby blues, he was everything your vagina yearned for until he opened his stupid mouth. And of course that was just as pretty as the rest of him too.

You’d met him for the first time freshman year. Fresh faced and thinking the world was truly your oyster, he’d popped into your life in intro to philosophy and swept you away with his silky, fancy words and the fact that he looked like that.

He’d invited you to the first baseball party you’d ever gone to and made you a special promise that he would be your knight in shining armor for the night. That he’d be waiting for your arrival, was counting down the minutes till you showed up at his door and he could dance the night away with you.

That was until you saw him sucking face with Tracy. Who was also in your intro to philosophy class.

Obviously, you’d hated him to his core ever since.

But for some reason he’d stuck around. Always kept tabs on you, always had a class with you, always found you at any party, bar, disco, literally fucking anywhere and it made you want to tear your hair out.

He was your pretty boy kryptonite and you needed him to leave you the fuck alone.

“Oh Finny. Finny, Finnegan, fuckhead. You know I thought I’d somehow be able to avoid you tonight but it seems like my stalker persists no matter the obstacles.”

Smoke trickles from between your clenched teeth and he has the audacity to stare at your lips and grin.

Fucking grin!!!

“You wound me princess. Ain’t even gonna share that little pinner of yours, I mean the absolute cruelty of it all.”

The grins still blazing on his lips but in Finn fashion he has to play up his part.

Clutching at his pearls, leaning against the kitchen counter like you’d just stabbed him straight through. Your eyes roll so far back in your head they almost launch themselves out of your skull.

“No Finn, I’m not gonna share with the likes of you. Go find Will and get him to roll you one, he’s the one I got the weed from anyways. Or maybe go find some other poor unsuspecting girl to do the deed for you, but you ain’t getting shit from me. You know the rules sweet Finny: ass, cash, or grass and god only knows I ain’t taking any of those three from you.”

You regret those last few words the second they enter the air between you.

Because Finnegan’s eyes drop straight to your mouth again and now he’s crowding you into the corner of the counter.

“Oh sweetheart if you just let me show you what this ass can do I think you would be singing quite a different tune. You think I’m all bravado and show but you and I both know the two of us could be quite a duo. I just know you’re absolutely unreal beneath that veneer of hatred you slap on.”

He’s still staring at your lips, the joint hanging limply between them as you try and control your breath and not cough up a lung.

Two can play this fucking game.

You take a thick drag, the tip burning bright orange and crackling like cinders and his eyes only deepen in shade. The smoke curls out and up into your nose and he stares at you his jaw dropping a little slack as you play him like the fucking fiddle he is.

“Finn.” Your index finger trails up his arm as you ash the joint in the sink, and you can feel the muscles of his bicep twitch with the contact. “If you think I’m gonna let you touch me you’ve lost your god damn mind. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go find some peace and quiet. Away from you.”

Your voice is sticky sweet and he barely registers that you’re telling him off for the millionth time tonight until you’re traipsing out of the kitchen at lightning speed before you do something else you’ll regret.

He got too fucking close this time around. You let him get too fucking close.

Your feet stomp quick up the stairs to the only safe place you’d ever been able to find in this house.

The roof. That blissful open space, like the crispest breath of fresh air it tasted almost minty. Your hands dig into your pockets looking for your weed, your lighter, and your rolling papers-

Fuck.

Of course you’d forgotten papers, predicable as always and fucking annoying as hell and you’re about to turn back down the stairs when your eyes land on something sitting on the windowsill.

Finn’s wood pipe.

You loved to hate it but it was his calling card. Stupid and quirky and so perfectly him that the sight of it made you heart twist just a little.

Not that you would ever fucking admit that.

Well beggars can’t be chooser as they say.

It’s deceptively crisp out on the roof as you shuffle around other groups till you get to your super secret corner on the far side of the house. No one ever seems to want to venture this far and you could smoke in peace and tranquility as the rest of the party raged somewhere far, far away.

The bowls packed, green just catching a smolder and you have to admit the stupid Sherlock Holmes pipe is kinda fun. Maybe you’d leave a fresh bowl packed for sweet Finn as a secret thank you gift.

Maybe this weed was stronger than you thought.

“Alrighty first you don’t share your joint, then you verbally assault me in my own house, and now you’re smoking out of my pipe? You really are trying to start a fight with me this evening now aren’t ya?”

Your eyes are red rimmed and your brain has that pleasant haze coating every synapse and you can’t find it in you anymore to really fight Finn right now. The stars look too damn good and the tree has hit too damn deep to let your hackles rise.

“You know maybe I’ve been giving you a bit of a hard time, but you damn well deserve it.” You smile around the pipe as you take another drag, but this time you pass it to Finn as he sits down just a little closer than usual.

His fingers snag against yours as you pass it and you both flinch a bit at the contact, sparkles zipping up your arms.

He stays quiet this time around, pulling puffs as you both watch people flit around the grass below you, the party continuing into this seemingly never ending night.

Friday’s, they really were something.

Your knees knock, fingers catching again as he passes the pipe back to you. Another pull fills your lungs and you lean back, back, back until your back presses down on the cool paneling of the roof and you let the smoke drift up and away among those pretty little stars.

“Finn you can just be so fucking annoying sometimes, I just wanna shut you up for like five seconds so we can all take a fucking breather.”

He laughs at that. Real and deep, curling around the base of your spine as he turns to stare down at you and the feeling spreads all the way to your fingertips. All the way to your toes.

“I’m well aware, but it’s sorta a part of my charm. I’m just waiting for it to final start charming you.”

Your eyes click to his, haze lifting for a split moment, and his eyes twinkle almost brighter than the stars.

“That’s such a fucking line and you know that shit doesn’t work on me. Fool me once and all of that jazz.” But you can’t stop staring at him and now his eyes color puzzled, a little hazy as he tries to decipher your words. “Oh come on, freshman year? You invited me to the party with all your fancy little words that you love to spin for me to only find you eating Tracy’s lips straight off her face? Honestly she still talks about that night to this day so I guess in a weird way kudos to you but man that did sting a bit.”

You chuckle around another pull and you go to pass it back but he’s clearly no longer interested in that. He seems very intent on memorizing every detail of your face under the stars and you can’t help but wiggle a little under his hyper focused gaze.

“I-I didn’t know that you were there that night. McReynolds told me you’d left with some dude and Tracy was more than willing to fill in that blank.”

Oh fuck.

You’re both just staring at each other as moment after moment click like puzzles pieces. Every snippy comment, every lingering glance, every class, every time you just happened to run into each other all no longer strange coincidences and some secret hatred. Every little moment stitching itself together till it left just you and Finn.

And there’s that fucking grin again.

But it’s softer this time, a little less sleazy and a little more lovely and now you’re sure his eyes are brighter than any star.

Your own lips tick up with a soft, nervous smile.

His fingers card between yours and he brings your knuckles up to his lips, stupid mustache tickling your skin in ways that make you shiver.

“I feel like nows the time to return to my earlier question since you finally shared some of that green with me, so what do I owe ya? Ass, cash, or more grass?”

You snort into the air between you and his grin splits into a megawatt smile and you finally let yourself tumble head first into kissing stupid, idiot, fuckhead Finnegan.

“Ass, 100%.”

~~~~~

tell me what you think if anyone is actually reading this because i'm bored and this site is lonely and i just want some weirdo friends who also think mustaches are peak sexiness. alright i need to go to sleep the psychosis is taking over :P

#finnegan x reader #finnegan #glen powell #glen powell fanfiction #everybody wants some #walt finnegan #walt finn finnegan #everybody wants some!!#finnegan x you #walt finnegan x reader #walt finnegan x you #jake seresin x you #and yes i am faking you top gun bitches out because you need to convert #to the church of glen powell with a stache and scruffy hair #this is the way #everybody wants some fanfiction #i don't even know what else to tag nobody is looking for this shit this is literally just for me

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topguncortez · 1 year

Note

hello friend! can i get pinterest nsfw prompts by lilithmemes "youre so cute i could just eat you out" with finnegan please? ❤️

side note: this prompt definitely reminds me of when finn says he majors in cunnilingus and he sometimes feels like hes just buried in work 💀

pairing: Walt "Finn" Finnegan x Female!Reader warnings: suggestive language, Finn is a cocky mf and needs to be put in his place, smutty. Note: based kinda on a thread between me and @sebsxphia Master prompts list!

"You've been avoiding me."

The voice made you roll your eyes as you felt his arm go around your shoulders. You didn't even need to look to see who it was, but you did anyway and were met with the ridiculous porn stache on his upper lip. His blonde hair was styled to perfection, knowing Finnegan, he probably went and got a Farrah Faucet blow-out earlier this morning.

"I know I have," You said back and pushed his arm off of you.

You and Finn had a love hate relationship, stronger on the hate side of things. You couldn't stand the cocky third baseman. Maybe it was the larger than life Texas attitude or the cocksure smile and wink that he gave every girl that walked through the door to the baseball house. But for some reason, the sight of Walt Finnegan made your skin crawl.

"Oh don't be like that," Finn said, giving you a faux pout, "You wound me, babygirl."

You rolled your eyes again, "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something from you? I was just standing over there with my lovely friends Jake and Dale," Finn pointed to the two baseball players on the other side of the kitchen, who waved at you, "and could see that you are carrying this tension in your shoulders, which is not good. It can lead to back problems, and ugh, I'd hate to see a pretty girl like you have a hunchback."

"FINN!" You yelled and slapped his arm.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm just trying to help you. You know, I'm majoring in cunnilingus, and I am very dedicated to my work. Many studies show that there is a direct link between orgasms and tension relief,"

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest as you listened to Finn rattle off some statistic (which was partially made up). You and Finn had hooked up regularly, and you'd never admit it out loud, but it was some of the best sex you'd had in your life. Finn knew what he was doing, which added to the hate that you had for him.

"You done?" You said, interrupting him, having zoned out halfway through his speech on how he studies the Art of the Female Orgasm.

Finn smiled, giving you that megawatt beautiful smile, "You're so cute, I could just eat you out." A shiver went through your body and heat pooled between your legs. You looked around the kitchen, seeing his teammates busy with their own conversations. You grabbed the red solo cup that was in front of you and downed it. Finn smirked, knowing how this works and grabbed a bottle of vodka, taking a swig for himself.

"Come on," You grab his hand and pull him towards the DTF room.

#everybody wants some!!#finnegan imagine #Finnegan fan fic #finnegan fan fiction #finnegan x reader #finnegan x y/n #finnegan x you #walt finnegan #walt finn finnegan #everybody wants some!! imagine

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callsign-cacti · 1 year

Text

Okay, it's bed time

Pairing: Finnegan x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: COLLEGE WORKLOAD, Finn being sweet

Summary: When Finn comes over to your place to study, he doesn't expect to actually have to study. And he really doesn't expect the breakdown that ensues because of the studying.

Nevertheless, he finds himself staying...

Notes: This is extremely self indulgent, and was written during a breakdown after I realized exactly how much I have to do before sunday night. So of course, instead of actually doing the work, I wrote this.

Tagging my fellow Finn lovers

@sebsxphia @lorecraft @topguncortez @veritable-trash @callsignspark @callsignvalley

----

“Alright, that’s it! You’re done for the night!” Finn declared, reaching across the bed to pluck the textbook and your notes from your hand.

“No, just a few more minutes!” You cry, shifting away from him.

“Yeah, that’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“Well, I haven’t really gotten this concept.” You flip the page, glancing back and forth between your textbook and your notes, brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s an important one…” At this, Finn leaned closer to glance at your notes, hoping that maybe he help explain it to you so that you would finally set the goddamned books down.

His brows furrowed, leaning closer. You were a diligent note taker, hell, he couldn’t count how many times he had stolen your notebook for a night to copy down his own notes from yours instead of actually listening in the lecture. But these, these weren’t even on the topic you had outlined at the top of the page. They were barely even in English.

He moved quickly, knowing that the element of surprise would be the best way to go with you, because you had a damn strong grip when you wanted to. Plucking the books straight out of your hands, he tossed them behind him. They landed with a thunk on the floor, causing you to look up at him, confused as to what the sound was.

It took a few seconds for what had just happened to click, looking down at your lap only to find it empty.

“What the hell Finn?”

“Honey, you’re exhausted. You need sleep!”

“No!” You lunged as you protested, but Finn was quicker, and you were slow in your exhaustion, and he caught your shoulders, gently pushing you back onto the bed.

“Your notes barely made sense. You have been studying literally all day, you’re exhausted, and you don’t need to study any more tonight!”

This afternoon, when you had invited Finn to study with you after class, he had readily agreed, positive that it would be fifteen minutes of studying before he had you in his lap. But when he had barged in after his practice, book in hand and condom in his pocket, he had found you on the floor with papers surrounding you, angrily muttering to yourself as you shuffled through your physics textbook.

So he had plopped himself down next to you, and together, the two of you worked your way through the homework that had you practically tearing your hair out.

He was positive that he would be rewarded for helping you, smug as he thought about all the ways you could thank him as he watched you organize your notes, only to pull out another textbook and plop yourself down at the desk.

Since then, Finn had taken a nap, and raided your snack drawer, finished four chapters in his book, and had two beers. He was getting up to get the third when he noticed you swaying in your seat, eyes glazed as you stared down at your notes.

“Don’t tell me what to do Finn. I’m not fucking done, that exam is in two days, and if I don’t pass this then…”

“Your grade drops, and so does your GPA, and if your GPA drops, then you won’t get the internship, no internship, no job, no job no life. Yeah, I heard it the first ten times you told it to me, and every time after that. But what you’re doin right now isn’t helping, it’s hurting. You need some sleep and you can study in the morning!”

He knew he had lost you halfway through his little rant, your eyes sliding from him and back to your textbook. And then, you were up and out of the bed, darting across the room in an attempt to reach your stuff before he could grab you, only to trip over your legs.

But Finn was faster,launching himself off the bed, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you back to him.

“Little clumsy there, aren’tcha!”

You could hear Finn laughing, but it seemed like your head was filled with cotton. You needed to study more. Because failing wasn’t an option.

When he was met with your silence, he stopped laughing. Tears were falling down your face, lip wobbling as you desperately tried not to break down in front of him.

“Hey!” Gently, Finn placed you back on the bed, planting his hands on either side of you, and ducking down to break your gaze away from the textbook.

“Listen, you got this in the bag honey. You know you’re gonna ace this exam, second only to me, of course! But hey, not everyone can be perfect all the time, right?”

And that seemed to wake you up, because suddenly, you were shoving him off of you, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Fuck you Finn!”

“Woah, what…”

“Fuck you! Fuck you for barely even having to crack open a book and still get better grades then those of us who bust our asses. And you don’t even fuckin care. You don’t care about anything, except for going to fucking nationals and getting pussy and getting high and just having a great fucking time at college. Cause it should be fun right, why stress about it when you know you’ll probably waltz right out of this goddamned town and get some great job and be set for life!”

You pause, taking a deep breath, and Finn cautiously takes a reaches for you, but your far from done.

“Fuck you for trying to tell me that this doesn’t matter, because it does! This isn’t a joke Finn, this is my life!”

And then, he puts his foot right in his fucking mouth. “But it’s not your life, it’s one exam.” He knows it the second it comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t even have to see your eyes narrow, mouth dropping open as you fully absorb what he just said.

It’s not even like he had just threatened to kill a kitten or commit a murder, but with your reaction, he might as well have just said something equally as outlandish.

“One exam, just one fucking exam huh! Yeah Finn, it’s one exam that is worth forty percent of my grade. You’ve made it very clear that I have made it very clear that this is not just an exam, this is the exam. And sure, maybe I say that about every exam, but that’s only because every single fucking exam I take matters. Every single test or quiz or homework assignment I have done here matters, because if I do not work as hard as I possibly can, then I will have nothing.”

Finn was used to your anger. You got angry at him all the time. What Finn was not used to, was the tears that were currently welling in your eyes.

“I can’t fail this exam Finn! Because if I fail this exam, then it means I failed. And not just figuratively, literally. The last time I failed a test was in eighth grade. Do you know what my parents said to me Finn. Why didn’t you study harder, this was an easy test. What are you going to do better next time. The only reason I failed that exam is because I had another one that morning that I pulled an all nighter studying for. But they were so disappointed in me, and I hated it. Because it didn’t matter that I had not only passed the other exam with an A, but that I was the only student who had passed that exam at all.”

You took another ragged breath, the tears now falling freely as you kept ranting.

“And it’s not just academics, I make one misstep, make one bad decision, and it seems like everyone see’s it, and it never seems to go away.”

You trail off, not even realizing that you are literally swaying side to side. Tenatively, Finn steps to your side, sitting down next to you, and then you are collapsing into him, openly sobbing into his chest.

“You think I want to be like this. I am so, so fucking tired Finn. I’m tired of it all, and I just want… I just want…”

Finn moves then, reaching for you and hauling you onto his lap, hugging you into his chest, running his hand up and down your back. Your crying so hard that you can barely breathe, hardly registering the comfort that Finn is trying to give you.

“Hey, it’s okay!” He tries again.

“Fuck you Finn!” You scream at him, trying to push out of his lap.

“Honey, when was the last time you slept?” And he honestly doesn’t know if you’re ignoring him or if you can’t hear him over the sound of your sobs. One of his hands slides into your hair, gently undoing the ponytail and raking his fingers through it, pausing only to lightly scratch at your scalp.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, rocking you back and forth, one hand skimming up and down your back, the other tangled in your hair, but eventually, you calm down, the sobs turning into sniffles.

“Baby?”

At this, you tense. That was new. He had never called you that. Gently, he untangles his fingers from your hair, sliding it across your cheek to tilt your chin to meet his gaze.

“Hey, you are not a disappointment.” He barely gets the sentence out before your moving to try and tuck your head back into his chest, but he won’t let you.

“You’re the smartest person I know, which, I mean, we go to STU, so…” And with that, you are no longer trying to burrow into him, but trying to push him away.

“Ok, bad time for a joke. I get it now. But I’m being serious honey. You are so goddamned smart,” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “And funny!” Another kiss, but on your cheek. “And strong!” He switches cheeks, before moving down to your jaw. “And so goddamned sexy!” He tilts your head again.

“And you are going to go so, so far in life, because you are smart and driven and everything anyone could ever hope to be. But you cannot study any more tonight. It’s…” He pauses, glancing at the clock on the wall, “3:27 in the morning, and you need sleep. You were literally swaying like a scarf in the wind a few minutes ago. And before you yell at me again, if you go to sleep now, I’ll help you study in the morning. And before you yell at me for that, no, not the way I helped you study last weekend, although I will go to my grave swearing that it’s the best way to study!”

And now you were giggling, the tears still shiny on your cheeks as he reached up to wipe them away. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into his hand on your face.

“So what do you say honey? Bed time?”

You crack your eyes open to find him staring at you with a soft expression that you are to tired to decipher at the moment.

“Yeah Finny, bed time.”

Tagging my fellow Finn lovers

@sebsxphia @lorecraft @topguncortez @veritable-trash @callsignspark @callsignvalley

Also, I have the first few parts of a new Finn series almost up and ready to go! The first part should be up Friday!

#walt finn finnegan #finnegan x reader #everybody wants some!!#everybody wants some #Glen Powell #callsign-cacti

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Kick Ass not Kiss my Ass!

Pairing: Walt Finnegan x Fem!reader

Characters: Kenny Roper, Walt Finnegan, Dale Douglas, Jake Bradford, Fem!reader, Glen McReynolds, Jay Niles, Alex Brumley, Tyrone Plummer, Billy Autrey, Willoughby

Warnings: SMUT (DNI 18+), pussy eating, blowjob, cowgirl position, reader giving off dom vibes, Finn giving off sub vibes, straight up smutty things, Reader deals with bitches (doesn’t go into too much detail), Finnegan has a crush but doesn’t realize it, Terrifying trio (Roper, Glen, and Finnegan), Reader showing off her bartending skills (even though she’s not a bartender), Roper and Finnegan are little shits, Reader might be a bit of a moody bitch, all she needed was a little bit of (Finnegan) love, Finnegan jokes about their kid and Roper murdering him if he ever found out, Roper and reader call each other names (but it’s all good), everyone knew they we’re gonna get together

Word Count: 4,872

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You grab the last box with a mental reminder to kick your cousins’ ass next time you see the overly cocky boy (because he is no man).

You slam the trunk closed and start heading towards the house... until he comes back.

“How many times have I told you to watch out, dumbass! Before I kick your ass!” You kick his front bumper, glaring at him.

“You mean today,” her cousin smiles at her.

“Shut up, Roper.”

“Someone write that down,” he says over his shoulder.

“That’s number four, so far,” Finnegan (the annoying one from the phone) adds. She clenches her jaw.

“Just watch yourself, alright?”

“You got it.”

You roll your eyes and head inside.

“You sure you can carry that all by yourself!” Roper shouts, leaning against the car, letting Jake and Dale out while Plum gets out from behind Finnegan’s seat.

“I’ve been caring your career on my back ever since we were five! I’d say I’m doing just fine now!”

“That’s cold! And not true!”

“Suck a dick, Roper!”

“Hey,” Glen greets you with a smile.

“Glen.” You pass him, entering the kitchen.

“Oh, don’t give me that attitude now. I thought that was only reserved for Roper.”

“It’s reserved for all assholes.”

“What did I do to earn that pleasant title?”

“Nothing. I’m just bored, don’t you know?”

“Are people talking again?” He asks, his tone becoming serious.

“No,” you shake your head, “and even if people have been, I wouldn’t be telling you.”

“Telling who what?” Finnegan enters the kitchen, standing on the other side of the counter.

“Nothing.” You narrow your eyes at Glen.

“I think that crazy bitch is talking about her again.”

“Oh, Jesus- shut up. Nothing’s going on.”

“We’ll happily send one of the freshmen in-”

“Finnegan-”

“Come on, you know we’d do anything to keep you around.” He adds with a serious smile (one you’ve never seen directed at any of his ladies of the night).

“You’re just hoping to get laid.”

The blond says nothing for a few seconds. “Ah- not necessarily-”

“I’ve brought food and beer. I’m out.”

“Woah! Hey, where you going?” Roper asks, rushing down the stairs.

“I have a few things I need to take care of.”

“Like?” asks your cousin with Glen and Finnegan by his side.

“I’m leaving now.”

Roper sighs, “will we see you later?”

You shake your head, “no.” You turn around, one of the freshman stops in front of you.

He doesn’t know where to move.

You place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around before shoving him into the three.

“You sure you can’t come?” Roper asks again.

“No.” You slam the car door shut and back out.

“She’s so coming,” Finnegan says over his shoulder for the others to hear.

“You’re just hoping to bang my cousin.”

“That’s your cousin?” Jake asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Finnegan confirms. “She’s also off limits.”

Glen nudges Roper, who shakes his head and walks away not wanting to hear about how much Finnegan wants to bang his cousin.

“I didn’t ask,” Jake defends himself.

“And now you don’t have to.”

“Hello,” you answer with little attitude.

“How’s it going?”

“Finnegan?”

“Who else would consider themselves lucky to be in your presence?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“No one because I’m special and I happen to know when I am talking to a beautiful and smart lady such as yourself.”

You chuckle through your nose, “you got the special part right. But, wow, you’re really laying the charm on thick today, aren’t you?”

“For you, I always go above and beyond.”

“Who’s he talking to?” asks Jake.

“Who do you think?” Dale replies.

“And he says he’s not into her.”

Dale nods with a smirk, “you’ve been here less than a day and already know more about his pathetic love life than Finn himself.”

Jake chuckles. “You know what I’m thinking?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

They start making sex noises.

Finnegan whirls his head around, mustache twitching; his jaw clenched. He aggressively waves for them to leave.

They don’t.

He tilts his head, securing the phone there while he picks up the base and closes the door.

The two can see a smile on his face right before the door slams shut in front of them.

Jake and Dale look back at one another and shake their heads.

“You still breathin’?”

You bring the phone back up to your ear, letting out a puff of air. “I don’t know if I am.”

“You’re sounding pretty good from my end.”

“Must you always suck up to me.”

“Yes, you should know this by now.”

“Who was it?”

“A freshman and Dale.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“Dale always manages to get a freshman to do some type of shenanigan with him. This isn’t any different.”

“You’re so mean.”

“That’s what I’m known for.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Doing this sad bit. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Well, gee, thanks.”

“Hey, hey. I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it. None of us like seeing you sad. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

You gulp, glancing over at the clock. “I gotta go, Finnegan.”

“No, look hey-”

“I’ll see you guys in a few, okay?”

“You sure? You’re not just lying to me to stop our conversation, are you?”

“No, dumbass. I’ll be there before some dick hungry chick can steal you away.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Later, Finn.”

“Bye.” He hangs up, setting the phone base on the floor as he sinks down onto his bed. The smile never leaving his face, “she called me Finn.”

“Are you done with the phone?” Billy asks, knocking on his door.

“Take it and go, Beuter.”

“My name is Billy!”

“Okay, how long till the girls start coming around?” You ask, leaning against the wall.

“You’re late,” Roper says.

“I’m still here and I already knew what coach was gonna tell you boys so why do I need a repeat?”

“Alright, you two,” Glen pats Roper’s shoulder. “That’s enough. We have ten minutes before the girls are fashionably late.”

“Wow, you move fast.”

“Not when it counts though,” he winks at you.

You groan in disgust, “I’m leaving you two to fend for yourselves. No wingwoman for you two.”

They let out a string of complaints as you walk away.

You enter the kitchen, seeing Finnegan chatting with a few of the girls who showed up on time. You start making yourself a drink.

“You mind making me a cousin special?”

You smile, seeing Dale holding his cup out for you. “Only you can handle it, Dale.”

“We both know that’s not true but, I can’t stop drinking it.”

You two chuckle.

Finnegan glances over at the two of you and frowns.

The girls start asking questions, distracting him for a few seconds but not enough to get his mind off of you.

“Oh, she’s making the famous cousin drink.” Glen nods in your direction.

“The what?” asks Jake.

“You’ve got to try this man.” Roper hooks his arm around Jake’s neck, bringing him to the kitchen with a few other team members following. “Three more.”

“That’ll cost you,” you tell him.

“Oh, come on.”

“Do freshman get a free drink if it’s their first time trying it?”

You turn to Jake and smile before curling your index finger and thumb, whistling loudly. “Alright, party people. It’s time to gather the freshies so they can try the-”

“COUSIN!”

“It seems you’re all familiar with my concoction. Now, where are my freshman at?”

All the freshman and one of the two newbies stand before you. “You think you boys can handle this?”

“Hell yeah,” Plum says.

“Okay.” You finish making the drinks. “And... enjoy.”

Plum runs out of the kitchen and into the front yard, throwing up.

“That’s one.”

“I prefer screwdrivers.”

“Yeah, well, you’re getting out of your comfort zone right now, Niles.”

“Raw dog.”

“Drink this and shut up.”

Jay drinks it and seems like he’s doing okay.

“Dare I say we have- nope, nevermind.”

Jay’s out in the front yard with Plum.

“Jake, you good man?” Roper glances over at you, you shrug.

Jake chucks his cup onto the floor.

“Yeah!” The whole house cheers him on.

No one has been able to drink your infamous drink and not thrown up the first time except for Glen.

Blumley takes a sip and is out in the front yard with the other two.

“That went better than I expected,” Dale comments.

You nod. “Alright, you boys have fun.”

“Why does it sound like you’re leaving?”

“I’m not, I just need some air.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Have fun, Dale.” You pass Finnegan and his rodies, he follows completely ignoring them.

You stand in the open doorway of the front door.

“You okay?”

“Shouldn’t you be talking with your rodies?”

“I’m not a musician.”

“Same thing.”

“Did something happen today? You’ve been a little off.”

“I’ll be alright. So... no luck with the clearly easy ladies of the evening?”

He chuckles, staring at his shoes. “Not when I know a pretty girl like you is out here, near the barfers.”

“My hero.”

“I try, I try... I wasn’t lying when I said you look pretty tonight.”

“You say that to everyone.”

“Only those who deserve it.”

“So, everyone?”

“I think you need to get your eyes and ears checked; I only say that to you.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“Like what?”

He holds his hand out for you to take, a smile stretching across his lips.

“You better not be trying to persuade me into your bed.”

“I would never.”

“Liar.” You grab his hand, letting him lead you up the stairs and through the window that leads to the roof. “Finally, I get to see roofball in action.”

“Roofball?”

“It sounds better than hitting shit off the roof.”

“But it doesn’t sound as fun.”

“And yet, it captured your attention.”

“Damn, you got me.” He grabs a golf club, handing it to you. “My lady?”

“How charming. What’s the goal?”

“Try and beat me.”

“The stakes?”

“You win, I do the team’s laundry for a week. I win, I want a repeat of that night.”

Your shoulders sag thinking about the night when you and he were tipsy and almost slept together during his, Glen, Roper, and Dale’s first year here. “Finnegan-”

“Now, now. I promise you’ll enjoy the night either way.”

You sigh, “fine.”

“Looks like-”

“It’s a tie,” you cut him off.

“What? No, I clearly won.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“No, no. Sure, you’re all good.”

“You are such a jerk,” you laugh, staring at him with a wide smile.

“We both know you don’t think that.”

“Well, then what do I think?”

He takes a step closer, standing in front of you; he leans in, switching from one eye to the other. “I think you really want me to give you the Finnegasm special.”

You suck in your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

He can see it, that’s partly why he said it. “You can laugh. It’s okay.”

You burst out laughing, lowering your head on his shoulder with your hand covering your mouth. “Thank... you,” you say between breathes. After a while, you finally calmed down.

“I didn’t realize it was that funny.”

“You’re always funny, Finn.”

You lift your head and lose your breath.

Neither of you say anything.

“I’m just- I'm gonna go inside now,” you point towards the window.

“Oh no, you are not,” he shakes his head.

“And why not?” You challenge him.

“I won fair and square which means you are to abide by the stakes we made prior to starting a game of roofball.”

“I don’t believe I agreed to those terms.”

“Oh, you did,” he takes a step forward, you step back, “when you took your first swing, you knew what you were in for.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think that’s right.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I’m afraid I don’t believe you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, “is that right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, unable to look away from him.

“If I kiss you, are you gonna run out of the house?”

“No, no. I’m gonna run into the house with you hot on my tail.”

“Oh.”

“You willing to take that risk?”

“Oh, baby, I am willing to do a lot more than that.”

“Really? If that’s the case, why am I pushed against the wall of this house and not in front of the window.”

“I don’t know where the other guys are at, and I don’t want to get my ass kicked for being the one to spend the night with you.”

“So, everyone likes me?”

“Almost everyone, I’m the only one who likes your attitude.”

“Interesting.”

“Exactly, now.” He steps back, holding his arm out towards the window, “after you, my lady.”

“Charming. Have fun checking out my ass.”

“Oh, I will.”

You push him against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck when Billy and his friends pass by.

“They’re gone.”

“Hurry up and open the door.”

“So bossy.”

You shove him inside, locking the door behind you. “Why can you never shut your mouth?” You ask, watching as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. “If you think I’m doing all the work here you’re wrong.”

He only offers a smirk and a pat on the bed as an answer.

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels.

“You wore heels on the roof? How did you not fall off?”

“Who’s to say I haven’t had to run across a roof in heels before?”

“Have you?”

“I think the answers obvious.” You sit down beside him, sitting up with your back against the bed frame.

“Why are you way up there?” He whines.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

He scoots closer to you, resting his head on your chest listening to the way your heartbeat speeds up and smiles.

“Are you happy now?” You start scratching his head.

“Maybe.”

“You’re annoying.”

“No,” Finnigan shakes his head. “You’re annoying.”

You let out a fake gasp and shove him off you. “How dare you.”

“How dare I? I’m the one on the floor.”

“Where you belong.”

“That’s mean.”

“Would it be mean if I said, I wonder what you looked like on your knees... in front of me?”

His head drops on the bed, the groan coming from him gives you an answer.

You lay back on the pillows and laugh.

Your eyes snap open when your body is yanked down towards the edge. Your hands wrap around his arms that keep him hovering over you.

“You said something about me on my knees? You dare to make that dream come true?”

“I don’t have to dare if I know you’ll do it.”

He shakes his head. “For someone with so much attitude, you’re awfully confident.”

“That’s because I know you’ll do anything to please me.” You know. You know.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.”

“Subtlety has never been your thing.”

He grins, leaning down kissing along the side of your neck, making sure there’s going to be a hickies for everyone to see. “It could be our thing.”

“You can barely keep your “average” sized dick in your pants enough as it is.”

His head pops up from your collarbone, “so you’ve heard the stories? Impressed?”

You push him away to pull off your jeans. “If you can use it right, I’ll be impressed.”

“Oh, honey. Everyone’s gonna know what we did in here.” He slowly removes your lace underwear.

You let out an unimpressed hum.

“Prepare to be eaten.”

You furrow your brows, “isn’t the phrase, prepare to eat your wor-” Your hands wind up clutching his hair, being careful not to tug on it (too hard). Few noises escape you, making Finnegan determined to make you louder than the music bouncing off the walls.

He keeps one hand on your thigh as his other hand snakes down to your warm slit. He eases one finger in but, it’s not enough.

You whine, thrusting your hips up.

He pulls of your buzzing bundle with a pop, watching as you can’t keep your mouth shut while his thumb circles around your clit and his fingers stretch you, preparing you for him.

He leans over you, smiling at you, “does that feel good, beautiful?”

You nod, babbling out, “yes! Yes! Feels so good!”

“Open your eyes.”

You furrow your brows, unsure if you can do that as you clench around his fingers.

“Open them.”

You don’t.

He sighs, easing up on his pace.

Your eyes snap open, “no.”

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me and you won’t be disappointed.”

“I could,” you take a deep breath. “I could find- any other,” you moan. “Other guy here who- who would help me out.”

He leans down, whispering, “you could but no one can give you the Finnegasm special.” After he says that, he speeds up the pace.

You arch your back, hips thrusting into and against his hand. Your mouth falls open, high pitched moans escape you; one hand clenched in the sheets of his bed and your other hand fists his stupid short sleeve button up.

His mustache tickles your upper lip as he kisses you, swallowing your noises as he tries to quiet you down (not wanting anyone to come in and ruin your guys’ fun). He helps you through your high, your legs shake unable to stay in the position you’re in.

He carefully detaches himself from you, giving you moment to breath. He starts to toe off his shoes, checking on you only to see your covered chest heaving and your gaze still on the ceiling.

He chuckles, “you doing alright?”

“Oh,” you push yourself up, leaning on your elbows. “I’m just peachy.”

He chuckles, “careful there. I might get too cocky.”

Your gaze travels down to the front of his pants, “if what you say is true. I think we’ll be fine.”

“Hey, hey.”

You push yourself off the bed with a smile, “remember, you said you liked my attitude.”

“When it was directed at other people and not at me.”

You unbutton his shirt, not looking up at him. “That sounds more like a you problem.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“I’m only extra mean to those I like.” You stare at him through your lashes, shoving his shirt off his shoulders.

He chucks his shoulder off to the side, “so, you’re saying I’m extra special.”

You pull him closer by his belt loops, “I don’t go on a roof in heels for just anyone.”

He smiles and cups your cheek, leaning to kiss you.

You try not to giggle but fail, he pulls back.

“Why are you laughing?”

You shake your head, not saying anything.

“No, seriously. What is it? Is this weird?”

“Definitely not weird, it’s just- your upper lip hair is a little ticklish?”

He nods, “guess I’m gonna have to get used to you laughing.”

“What?”

He takes a step forward, forcing you to take a step back.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

He’s quick to remove your shirt.

“You’re gonna give me whiplash, I swear.”

“Then I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes and crawl into the center of the bed.

He makes his way over you, kissing every inch of you he could. He trails along your breastbone, sucking on the skin (leaving more of his marks behind).

Your hands slide along the back of his shoulders until you cup the sides of his neck pulling his up to look into his dazed eyes. “Take your pants off.”

“So bossy.”

You don’t laugh along with him, and he pecks your lips.

“I like it.” He removes the last piece of clothing and pulls a condom out of the drawer of his nightstand.

“Prepared, were we?”

He shrugs, “you never know.”

“Oh, but you do.”

“You wanna explain to our kid why their Big cousin Roper murdered their dad, go ahead.”

“This would be a lot better if you didn’t talk about my cousin.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

You scoff, pulling him closer to distract him with your irresistible lips before shoving him onto the bed.

He settles onto the pillows, placing his hands behind his head. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” you say, slowly sinking down onto his aching cock.

He pulls you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist; the other tangling in your hair.

You slowly move your hips against his, working on finding a good rhythm.

Once you find it, there’s a knock on the door.

“You better- better have locked the- the door.”

His hot breath hits your skin, a faux chuckle is his reply.

You rock your hips against his faster making him let out a quiet moan.

“I did- I did. I’m not letting any- anyone in here, beautiful.”

Dale and Glen have no idea Finnegan and you are together in his room.

They shrug; one goes upstairs and the other aims the coat closet.

“See, they’re gone. Now,” the hand tangled in your hair slides down your body, until it finds your bundle.

A choaked breath escapes you, your hips stutter but Finnegan doesn’t stop he pushes you and helps you move. You rest your head against his shoulder, breath fanning against his hot skin. You inch closer to the side of his neck, taking your time, teasing and marking him.

His hips start snapping up into you, you thrust against him, both of you chasing after your highs.

You can feel yourself close to letting go, wrapping your arms around his neck, hauling him closer.

He starts decorating your soft breasts in his mark, small trails of saliva slowly drying near your nipples.

Your moans continue to get louder, more so as he kisses along the front of your neck, nipping at your chin. You cup his cheek and stare his closed eyes and dazed expression. “Finnegan.”

He doesn’t respond, not wanting to moan or blow his load before you could properly enjoy yourself.

“Finn. Finn,” you gasp.

He groans as you clench around him.

“Finn,” you groan, resting your forehead against his. “Look at me.”

His eyes snap open, all he sees is you. His heartbeat speeds up (shockingly more so than it already is) and he realizes what Beauter is talking about. He gulps at sound of your breathless call of his name slipping off your lips.

“Finnegan.”

“I’m here, beautiful. I’m right here.” He continues to put your pleasure before his own. “I know your close to teetering over the edge.”

A beautifully pathetic, high pitched moan slips through your parted lips before you could stop it.

He smiles, “let go. Let go for me.”

And you do, not quietly (to him, those outside the room still don’t know what’s going on).

Once you catch your breath you realize he still hasn’t finished and carefully pull him out of you. You slowly crawl off the bed, kneeling.

“What are you-”

“Shut up and come here.”

“I don’t think I can move.”

“If you want me to blow you, you’ll come over here.”

He makes his way over to you. “You know you don’t have to-”

“Shut up. You’ll enjoy this,” you remove the condom and slowly stroke him. “Promise.” You wink and kitten lick his leaking head.

His fights the urge to close his eyes, not wanting to miss a thing you’re doing.

You continue to stroke his hard cock while you lick him from his base all the way back up to his tip, repeating that action a few more times before you slowly begin to take him in your mouth.

You place your free hand against his thigh, feeling how tense he is. You slowly bob your head, stroking the rest of what you can’t reach.

He cups the bottom of your chin, watching you through half lidded eyes.

You look up at him, taking note of how close he is to finishing. The hand on his thigh slides off.

He wants to ask what happened but with the way your warm hand cupping him. It takes him a moment to catch his breath, in this moment he wishes he hadn’t looked down to see your tearful eyes and stuffed mouth.

He throws his head back and floods your mouth.

Once he’s finished, you slowly pull off him, a string of saliva being the only thing to keep you two attached until it breaks and lands on neck and chin.

He huffs, “wow.”

“Wow?” You rest your hands on his thighs, bringing yourself closer to him. “Have I made the Finnegan speechless?”

He smiles, pecking you on the lips once before hauling you up so the two of you can catch your breath. “I feel like the Astros are gonna make it to the World Series.” He watches you, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

You tilt your head up, “you say they every year.”

“I’m serious.”

“You said the same thing last time.”

“Don’t be mean,” he pouts.

“It’s all part of my charm.”

He offers a sarcastic chuckle in return.

You cover your eyes, the sun seeping through his window keeps you awake. You sigh and try to climb out of bed only to find yourself trapped with nowhere to go.

His arm slips off you when he turns, rolling over onto his side.

You grab whatever you could find off the floor to cover yourself (and prevent the other players from the second house to catch a peek). You turn around, seeing the mess you two made thankfully just both of your clothes.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Your head snaps over towards Finnegan. “You’re up early.”

You sit at the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want to be, but I lost my personal heater.”

You smack his chest. “You know you love it.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Don’t be mean to me or I might try to kiss you.”

You ignore him, reaching for his shirt and your pants. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I have to or else I’m kicking someone’s ass.” You turn around, buttoning one more button before opening the door.

A gasp mixed with a chuckle escapes you; you reach behind you to push him away. “Finn! Stop!” You giggle.

His places his hands on your thighs, holding you still. “I’m sorry, I thought you said kiss your ass. I was happy to oblige.”

“Get off me, you dork.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“And, why’s that?”

“This is too good of a view to give up.”

You scoff and shove him away.

Dale, Glen, and Jake turn their heads at the sound of the door hinges creaking.

No one says anything. “If any of you say anything-”

“You’ll what?” Glen asks.

“I’ll kick your ass.” You spin around, poking Finnegan in the chest, whispering, “I swear, if you try to do what you just did, I will hurt you.”

He offers a cheeky smile in return.

“What are you three doing up? It burn peeing, already?”

Glen gives you a dry laugh. “Funny, should we assume the same?”

“Harsh, Glen. Harsh... where’s Roper?”

“Right here.”

Your eyes snap to the top of the stairs. “Hey, Rope.”

“Hey, slut,” he says with a smile.

“We all know you’re the biggest slut here.”

“And proud of it.”

“So, you’re not gonna kick my ass?” Finnegan asks, standing behind you.

Neither of you realized it but he interlocked your fingers with his.

“It’d be easier to hear you two together than giving each other sex eyes.”

“Whatever.”

“Now that, that’s taken care of. If you’ll just excuse us.”

Your pulled back and the door is shut.

“I didn’t realize I signed up for a horn dog.”

“It was part of the package deal.”

“Really?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Yep.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe it.”

He shrugs.

“Were you seriously standing behind me in your underwear?”

“I can’t find my pants.”

“Did you even look?”

“N- hey! This isn’t about me, alright?”

“What’s it about then?”

“Your hot and I’m horny. If you think about it, the math adds up.”

You purse your lips, marching towards the door, shaking your head, “nope.”

You shove Finnegan into Dale’s arms. “He’s your problem.”

Dale shakes his head, pushing his fellow teammate off him. “Not when he’s like this.”

“Rub one out!” You shout, looking through the fridge.

“Rub it for me!”

“Why am I still here?” Roper walks out of the house, sitting on the front porch, chuckling at the sight of the guys sleeping on the grass.

“Hey,” he shouts your name. “They’re still out here,” he chuckles.

“No way,” you run to the porch.

You slap your hands together, throwing your head back as you let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, this is amazing.”

“Not as amazing as-”

“Go back into your room, horn dog.”

Everyone but Finnegan laughs.

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