#morris delancey x reader

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ You're Such A Loser pt. 2; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw (18+) cw: switch(dom)!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, reader guiding art through domming, begging, brief choking, slight hate fucking themes, orgasm denial, slight bit of tears/crying (he’s okay), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, praise, degradation, creampie.

all that frustration from losing his matches has built up in him, and now Art is ready to let it all out. only because you’re letting him, of course.

word count - 2.9k

note : part twoo (part one) !! i hope that those who liked pt. one will like this part just as much :) it’s a lil bit of a switch in dynamic (pun not intended)

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He’s diving back into your cunt without hesitation, lapping at the remnants of your orgasm that have spilled and sprayed down your inner thighs. His arms are hooking under your legs so that he can bury his tongue deeper and deeper into you.

You groan deeply, running your fingers through his hair before pulling the locks taut in your fist.

“Yes, baby, just like that.. your mouth always feels so damn good,” you breathe out, moaning at his expert tongue skills.

As you gaze down at him, you can see the way that his eyes are squeezing shut and his brows are turned up in arousal as he licks at your insides. He lets out a pathetic whimper at your words of praise, which shoots a mouthful of vibrations up through your form. Your knees tremble, clamping down on his flushed cheeks, and you use your grip on his hair to guide him gently up to your clit. He takes notice of your cue, and moves his mouth up to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp brokenly and toss your head back, before looking down again to see his face.. and god, he is beautiful. His brows are still knitted up, but now his big aquamarine eyes are watery and looking up at you like a lost puppy. He was all yours. Just yours, and he knew it too -- in fact, he loved it.

“That’s it, sweetheart, doing so--mmf!--so well,” you moan out, using your hand to now stroke at the back of his head and give him a bit more physical stimulation. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his scalp, and out of habit he reaches up with one of his free hands and uses his middle and ring finger to brush against your dripping hole. Immediately, you wince at the contact, and he lets out a drawn out groan that you can tell is an incoherent plea for permission. You nod.

He wastes no time in turning his wrist so that his hand is palm-side up, and then his fingers are gliding into you without any resistance whatsoever. Your body is absolutely starved for him at this point, and you can’t do a thing to hide it. As he feels your insides wrap warmly around his digits, his eyes prick with tears while he continues to mouth at your clit.

He brings his head back, detaching his mouth from your body, and moves to look longingly at the way your fingers are sucking him in every time he pulls them back. Your slick is covering his chin and his lips, which are currently parted in arousal as he huffs and puffs from desperation. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, relishing in the way that he can feel you clench and twitch.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, not breaking eye contact with the point of connection between your body and his. He then decides to bury his two fingers so deep inside of you that they actually completely disappear. Next thing you know, he’s curling his fingers repeatedly in the “come hither” motion while he’s still buried up to the hilt. About thirty seconds of this is all it takes for you to get there.

“SHIT-! Oh my god, Art, don’t fucking stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m g’na-”

You manage to moan out a quick warning before your hips are arching into his touch, going completely still for a few moments. Then, wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, causing your pelvis to spasm rapidly as you babble incoherent phrases of praise to your partner.

Art’s mouth is now completely agape, his eyes lidded, as he takes in the show of your orgasm, not stopping the movements of his fingers. You couldn’t really tell over the sound of your own vocality, but he was letting out tiny whines and whimpers from the way that your body was making his cock leak pathetically in his already-soiled boxers. He could barely hold his second orgasm off.. it was so damn hard.

After you collapse fully on the bed in an attempt to recover in your afterglow, sticky with sweat and panting heavily, you are now able to fully hear Art’s pure and unfiltered anguish. He’s moaning lowly as he glances from your cunt down to his clothed cock, which is jumping over and over in his underwear -- begging for attention. He then moves to pull his wet fingers from inside of your pussy, which allows for a few drops of viscous wetness to spill from your hole. Without hesitation, he lurches forward with his pretty tongue sitting gently on top of his bottom lip so that he can gulp down the taste of your release. He sucks and licks greedily at your hole, letting his eyes flutter closed as he grips his own thighs. He doesn’t want to touch himself yet. After all, you never gave him permission.

“You’re such a good boy, baby.. so needy and hungry for me, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly but shakily, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth continues to relentlessly engulf your heat.

“You want me to let you cum?” you ask, knowing from his track record that he’s probably already on the edge.

He pulls back, licking at his bottom lip to not waste any of your taste, before he removes his hands from gripping his legs and instead places them to your waist. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh as he looks up at you from his position on the floor.

“Please, please, I’m already there-- just tell me I can and I will! I promise,” he gasps out, drawing out the second half of ‘promise’ to emphasize his sheer closeness. His brows are still turned up as tears start to well in his eyes. He’d cry if you said no, you knew that. The real question was: did you want to keep punishing him tonight? Had he had enough?

“Tell me how bad you want it, love.”

You could stand to be cruel a little bit longer.

He whines, his fingers clenching around the skin of your hips, as his pelvis continues to buck involuntarily.

“I want it so badly- I wanna cum- I’m so close, please please please.. I don’t know if I can stop it,” he moans, the slight friction of his cock against his wet boxers pushing him closer and closer to the point of no return.

“What if I said no?”

“Nooo, god, please don’t.. I’ve already made you cum.. I could prob’ly cum just from you telling me that I can.. can I? Oh shit, please-”

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you cum if you can take control for once.” 

He looks at you, confused, before trying to stave off his orgasm by biting down on your thigh as he lets out a broken whimper. You yelp, before stroking his hair, knowing that he was deep in an animalistic state of mind -- he didn’t mean to hurt you, he just was trying so hard to be good.

“Use your words, Art.” 

He releases you from between his teeth, before tears are spilling down his cheeks.

“I,” he sobs, “I can try.. but you know that I’m not like that..”

“I know, baby, I know. I want to teach you. Would you like to try that?”

He nods. He’d do anything to cum at this point.

You use your hands to push yourself farther back onto the bed so that your head is now close to the headboard. Art watches your every move, but stays as still as he can. He still wanted to please you, and didn’t want to do anything without your say-so. This was going to have to change within the next ten minutes.

You pat the bed’s comforter, and he immediately crawls up onto the bed and hovers over your form. His breathing remains uneven as his cheeks continue to flush with the torment of his delayed release. The erection in his boxers is still as stiff as ever, and you eye the way that it visibly jumps with anticipation.

One of your hands reaches up to comfortingly caress his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Breathe, honey, breathe. You’ll get what you want soon.”

He sighs, which almost turns into a moan, but he cuts himself off as you start to give instruction.

“Okay, first I want you to take off my top and bra. Undress me, understand?”

“Yeah,” he responds breathlessly, moving to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra in under a minute. You were now completely naked, and he allowed himself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of your uncovered body. You were so gorgeous, it made his dick twitch.

“Good. Now, take off your boxers and shirt. I wanna see you,” you couldn’t help staying in a dominant headspace for a few seconds more.. it was just so fun to boss him around. He was so quick to follow directions, too.

He unsurprisingly does as he’s told, swiftly removing his gray tee and pulling down his boxers. At the sight of his bare cock, you bite your lower lip and place a hand on the back of his neck to guide him down to meet your mouth. You kiss him deeply, letting your own tongue lick his as he reciprocates with equal ferocity. He’s mashing his lips with yours, moaning into your open mouth when you pull back to switch the angle of your head. You bite down on his bottom lip before sucking it, which causes him to groan deep in his chest. Your hands snake to his lower back and you pull him down in one swift motion so that his body is now pressed flushed to yours as you continue to make out. A few more moments of this go by before Art knows that he has to speak up.. 

“I th-think I’m gonna c-cum,” he stutters, rubbing his hard cock against your lower stomach, “I can’t hold it, I cannn’t-!”

You reach down quickly and grasp his dick, which makes his eyes roll back into his low lids, and then you’re sliding it inside of your tight hole without warning.

“Nnghh-! I’m--fuck!” he sobs out, immediately spilling a thick, warm load inside of you. You let him thrust shallowly into you as he pumps you full of cum.

“Ah hah hah haah-!” he cries as he overstimulates his cock by continuing to fuck himself through his long-awaited orgasm.

As you watch his face with a smile and feel his throbbing dick inside of you, Art suddenly pushes himself up onto his hands so that he’s looking down at you. He’s gasping for more air but his brows are sitting low on his face and he looks weirdly upset.

You reach a hand up to his face, but he grabs your wrist with one hand and shakes his head without breaking eye contact with you.

“Don’t,” he breathes out, before beginning to thrust his spent cock more forcefully inside of you. Was he pissed that you had initially denied him..?

“Wha-”

“Don’t say anything, please,” he cuts you off, “just let me fuck you some more..” 

You close your mouth, feeling a new kind of heat swirl in your gut. There was something about his tone that was new for him.. there was a bit of authority in it. Art hangs his head as he groans, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before slamming it back into you. The wind feels like it just got knocked completely out of your lungs, and you squirm on the sheets.

“You feel so good.. f-fuck, I’m already hard again,” he moans, a growl beginning to creep up his throat.

A moan escapes your lungs as you let your head fall back into the plush pillow, and then before you can fully comprehend what he’s doing, his hand is over your mouth. His elbow is resting by your neck as his palm covers the lower half of your face and muffles your sounds.

“I said to be quiet,” he says gruffly, now speeding up the movements of his hips. They snap back and forth with a renewed sense of fervor, filling you up with his heavy cock with every thrust inside of you. You moan, although muffled, and you can tell that your stifled sounds were driving him crazy.

“You did a lot of talking tonight, babe, now let me say something--” 

You drool under his hand, your mouth open and panting, as you try to focus on his words,

“I don’t get why you called me a loser when you’re my coach.. my loss is your loss- shit!” 

The tip of his cock hits your cervix as you clench around him, causing him to briefly lose his train of thought. He finds it quicker than you thought he would, though.

“So that means that you’re a loser too, aren’t you?” he spits out with gritted teeth, leaning down close to your face and looking deep into your eyes. You compulsively whimper and buck your hips up to meet his.

“Use your words, baby,” he mocks you from earlier, anger laced potently in his command.

He knows that you can’t talk coherently right now, and it’s not his hand that’s stopping you. He knows damn well that if he removed his hand from your mouth, you’d still be a slurring mess of moans and pleas for more beneath him. His cock was fucking you so well, and it was hitting all of the right places at all of the right times. You weren’t sure you were going to last much longer, and neither was he to be honest..

Before, he was in the mindset of a defeated, washed-up tennis champ, but now he was taking on the same persona that he did when he was in his prime. When he won back-to-back matches. He was a fucking beast.

“Mmmph-! Mm-!” your moans rolled around in your chest and were muffled by Art’s large palm as he continued to fuck mercilessly into you. You felt the cord in your gut being pulled taut.. ready to snap at any moment..

Suddenly, he pulls his hand from your mouth and groans, bringing it up to his mouth as he licks depravedly at your drool left behind on his skin. You whimper at the sight, and he follows it up with a similar vocalization before speaking down to you.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck fuck...” he pants, the movements of his hips becoming sloppier by the second.

he places his wet palm down across the center of your collarbones, and you groan lowly at the feeling, before you take his wrist and manually move his hand up to the base of your throat.

“please,” you whimpered. 

and he readily obliged.

Art squeezes gently at the sides of your throat, stifling the blood flow to your brain and initiating the spread of a pleasant fuzziness throughout your body and head that made your impending orgasm feel that-much-more intense. 

“you like that? you like when i choke you, baby..?” he moans, clearly enjoying the switch in dynamic as much as you were.

you nod immediately, trying to take in more oxygen as his fingers pressed deliberately against your pulse. then, he released you from his grasp like a lion drops a gazelle from its mouth before feasting upon it.

you take a huge, broken breath into your lungs before everything begins to feel like it’s getting too much .. everything feels too good right now.. 

“Honeyimgonna-mffphh!-imgonnacumpleaseohmygod” you couldn’t stop the slurry of nonsensical pleas and whines as you felt your orgasm getting ready to wash over you.

“I’m gonna give it to you so good.. i wanna fill you up.. you’d be nowhere without me, let’s face it.. if i didn’t win any matches we’d have no income.. so i’m not a goddamn loser.. i’m not.. i’m.. i..”

Art was becoming more and more incomprehensible the closer he got, and then he felt everything crash down around him once your orgasm started to rip through you and pulse around him.

“OH GOD! HOLY SH- OH FFFUCK! I’M CUMMING I’M CUMMING!” he shouts, unable to hold anything back as he fills you up again.

You feel the warmth and tingly pressure of his release spread throughout your cunt as you cum on his throbbing cock, your eyes rolling as your head tips back against the bed. You whimper and groan as you take in the feeling of your second orgasm of the night, and relish in the heat and aftermath of your partner’s third one.

After you both come down slightly from your highs, Art collapses in a sticky, sweaty mess on top of you as his chest heaves against yours. You close your eyes, smiling, as your hands move to rub lovingly at his lower back. As his head rests heavily in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, he slowly pulls his hips back and you whimper as the feeling of emptiness starts to rush through you in the absence of his length.

You could feel his cum oozing down your pussy, and you laughed softly at the sudden realization of the reality of your situation.

“You know,” you huffed, still trying to catch your breath, “i think you just came inside of me again.” 

he laughs.

“i don’t think i could have stopped that from happening..” he smirks, rubbing his soft but sensitive cockhead against the inner part of your right thigh.

“right, right.. all i’m saying is that you better not get me pregnant. you’re already a handful as it is.”

“You love it,” he whispers, picking up his head slightly to bite at your neck.

“Whatever you say, loser.”

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guys, this took so long to finally finish up and that’s on me lmaoo

writer’s block had me in a firm chokehold n i didn’t like it

i feel like i ended this fic a bit quickly, but i think that can mostly be chalked up to sleep deprivation.

anyways, hope this quenched ur mike faist thirst for the moment, but i have more ideas that i want to write about asap.. so there’s definitely some more hot stuff coming soon hehe

[blondewhoresworld]

cries

[auspicious-manner]

maybe a little morris delancey x ballet dancer!reader and him getting all soft when he sees her perform up on the stage?

oh i am ALL for this. as an ex-dancer, this was a dream to write! i tried not to include too much terminology so it wouldn’t get confusing.

so sorry this took so long, life has gotten very busy being back at university. but i’m trying to keep up as much as possible!

fem reader x morris delancey

warnings: none

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Tough

•

“whaddya say to spendin’ the night with me, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, morris delancey, asked as you walked down the streets of new york city, hand in hand. the sun was just beginning to disappear behind the horizon, lighting the city up in an ethereal orange glow.

you leaned your body closer into his arm. “as lovely as that sounds, i got a show tonight.”

in order to make some extra cash to survive in new york, you got a job at medda’s theater performing three shows a week. when asked what special talents you had in your interview, you told medda that you had trained in ballet since you were young, but given that you barely had enough money to keep food on the table, you couldn’t afford pointe shoes despite being trained on them.

on the spot, she offered you a deal; typical performers performed one to two shows a week, but if you could handle it, she’d give you three shows a week and take the cost of the shoes out of your pay every other week. to you, that deal sounded like a dream come true.

morris never came to your shows, he always said he had “business to attend to” on the nights you performed. you weren’t really sure what that meant, but you could assume it had something to do with harassing those newsie boys that you felt a bit of sympathy for. he always claimed he was too tough to be seen watching a show in a theater.

morris threw his head back dramatically as you both walked. “you’re always at that theater. we never get to spend time together anymore.”

you smiled playfully. “you know, you could come to my show tonight since you keep avoidin’ it like the plague. what’s it gonna hurt you, morris?”

he thought about it briefly. “i could take a night off, come watch you do your little thing. how about that?” morris asked, half joking.

you immediately burst into a grin, ignoring the fact that he sounded a bit sarcastic with that proposal. all you’ve ever wanted was for your boyfriend to come watch you do what you do best. “that sounds perfect.”

unbeknownst to you, morris didn’t exactly want to see your show. sure, he loved you and would do pretty much anything you asked him to, but his idea of a fun night wasn’t going to a theater to watch a boring show with a bunch of old people. but seeing how you beamed at the idea of him finally coming to watch you made him feel like the only thing worse than going would be not going.

you stopped walking so you could stand in front of him, his tall stature standing over you. “the show starts at 7. you promise me you’ll be there?”

morris hesitated before nodding. “wouldn’t miss it for nothin’.”

you stood on your toes to reach up and give him a soft kiss. “i have to start getting ready. i’ll see you there?”

he put his hands on your hips, pulling you close. “of course.”

you whispered an okay before removing yourself from his grip, as much as you didn’t want to leave. you weren’t far from the theater, and when you got there, you found that you had approximately two hours to get fully ready and warmed up.

your dressing room was small and compact and below ground level. it was the only room medda could provide you, but you were thankful to even have a dressing room. there was one small window near the ceiling that provided a small look into the streets of new york city.

as you applied your stage makeup, you heard a light tapping coming from the window. you frowned, as hearing rhythmic noises directly against the glass was uncommon. you pulled your chair over to the wall, standing on it and further standing on your tip toes to pull the small curtains away to find a smiling morris on the other side of the glass. he was laying on his stomach so his head was level with the window.

you tried to contain laughter as you unlocked the window. “are you crazy?”

the window was far too small for him to climb in, so he just kept his head close to the opening as you looked up at him on top of the chair.

“i might be, but i’m just glad i finally found the right room. knocked on a few other windows, them ladies did not like me doin’ that.”

you giggled. “what are you even doing here? i told you to come for the show, not to my dressing room window.”

he shrugged before saying, “i wanted to wish you good luck, that’s all.”

you looked at him knowingly. you knew your boyfriend, and he didn’t go through all of this just to tell you about something you didn’t even really need.

“nice try. what’s the real reason you’re here?”

morris looked up, seemingly embarrassed. “where do i sit when the show starts?”

you paused. “i know sittin’ may be difficult for you, morris, but luckily for you there’s this new invention i think you’ll really love to try. it’s called a chair,” you said sarcastically.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “sweetheart, you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his thick new york accent prominent. “where am i suppose’ to go? front row, back row, balcony? i don’t know how any of this stuff works.”

“as a matter of fact, i actually let miss medda know you were comin’ for the show, so she has a box reserved just for you.”

morris was reluctant to come at first, but now he was simply curious to discover what occupies so much of his girlfriend’s time. he wanted to make sure he could get the best view possible.

he put his head through the window, and you stood on your tip toes to meet him with a kiss. “i’ll see you after the show?”

he nodded. “of course. break a leg,” morris started, going to stand up but turning around to the window again. “but not actually. don’t actually break a leg, please.”

you laughed, holding his hand briefly through the window as he began to leave “i won’t!”

after he left, you finished getting your makeup on and got into your costume. every week, medda throws together a new theme for your performances, and this week she went with a forest theme. you were wearing all forest green costume that made you look like a fairy. your makeup fit the occasion too, and jack kelly’s painted props and artwork set the backdrop for your show.

about ten minutes before showtime, you stood backstage once the first act finished and your props were being moved behind the curtain that separated the stage from the audience.

your performances never lasted long; they were apart of some other, bigger show within the theater. but you drew in lots of crowds as you were becoming a household name. critics raved about your performances, and people came to medda’s theater specifically for you.

normally, you were a pro at keeping your nerves in line. the build up to the shows didn’t make you nervous anymore after weeks of doing it. but tonight, knowing morris was somewhere out there watching your every move made you immensely nervous. you weren’t just performing for a crowd tonight, that you could handle. you were performing for someone. your someone.

“miss Y/N, you’re shaking,” medda said behind you as she put her hands on your shoulders. you turned around; you were too in your mind to notice the shaking.

“sorry medda, just nervous, that’s all.”

you turned around to meet her, seeing a confused and unbelieving expression on her face. “you? nervous? i don’t believe it.”

you shrugged in response. she tilted her head, still questioning you, then you could tell her expression changed in an instant. “oh, i know why you’re nervous.”

you shook your head. “no you don’t.”

she smiled playfully, hitting your shoulder lightly. “oh yes i do. it’s because that delancey boy is out in the audience getting ready to watch you, isn’t it?”

you couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks now. you didn’t even have to say anything; medda knew.

her tone changed, and she leaned in close. “don’t get distracted, kid. believe me, i’ve had my fair share of men in my life. but don’t let any man get in the way of you doing what you were born to do. you’re a natural at this, you have nothing to be nervous about.”

you took a deep breath. she was right. you knew exactly what you had to do. you nodded, and she backed away.

she smiled. “let’s get this show moving!”

medda walked out on stage in front of the curtain blocking the set, and that was your cue to get in your place on the props.

morris sat out in the audience, waiting anxiously for your presence on the stage. he had the perfect view from where he was at in the audience, and he held his breath waiting for the show to start. he couldn’t care less about the speech medda was planning before you went on, he just wanted to see you up there.

“i know many of you have come from far and wide to watch this next performer do what she does best. i would rave about her, but i’ll just let her dancing do the talking. up next to take my stage is the one and the only, Y/N L/N.”

medda bowed and walked off stage, and morris watched as the curtains fell away and he saw your figure in the darkness laid on a prop that was painted to look like a tree stump.

the lights came on, and the music began. morris watched as you slowly and gracefully worked around the prop, acting as a mythical creature in a forest. his eyes stayed locked on you, not entirely sure what he was watching, but enthralled nonetheless.

you stood on top of the tree stump, going up en pointe and holding your balance in an arabesque, your arms stretched out to your sides.

you glanced into the audience, still holding your balance, searching for morris. you couldn’t find him, but you ignored your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you brought your other leg down to leap off of the prop, sending your legs soaring out.

morris watched in awe in the audience. he liked to think of himself as tough as nails, and he frowned upon himself showing emotion. but, it was becoming harder and harder to uphold that facade as you continued moving around the stage. he knew you must have been talented to have your own show like this, but never in a million years would he have guessed you would be like this.

the turn sequences were your least favorite part of your shows. you were more of a jumper, you loved the feeling of soaring through the air. along with that, you were flexible, and you had tremendous balance for kicks. you were able to hold your leg impossibly high like it was nothing. but turns were a different story.

you began your prep, and as you did, you spotted morris in the audience, right in front of your vision. your heart began to race even more, and you saw as he smiled, knowing that you had just seen him.

in order to prevent yourself from getting dizzy, you used morris as your spot during your turns. you were turning fast, but as you kept your eyes locked on him, you were able to hold your balance en pointe. it felt like you and him were the only ones in that theater.

morris kept his eyes on you as you spun around and around on the very tops of your toes, a small gasp escaping his mouth. he had never seen anyone do something so quick and difficult while simultaneously having so much grace and fluidity.

after nailing the turns and flowing seamlessly out of them into the next section, you forced your eyes to pull away from his.

not only was morris awestruck by your movement, he was drawn into your storytelling. anyone in that room could see you were on an adventure through the forest, and he felt as if you were taking him along for the ride.

after what felt like hours but somehow not enough time, morris watched as you retreated to the back of the stage, hitting one last pose on the faux tree stump before the lights went dim.

the crowd immediately erupted as the curtains drew to a close, but morris stayed in place. he couldn’t quite process exactly what he just saw, but he was upset that it ended so soon. he could have watched you up there for hours.

when the curtains closed, you got off your prop and headed backstage as medda announced the last act of the night. another successful show, you thought to yourself.

as you sat backstage taking sips of water, you felt a presence behind you. before you could turn to see who it was, a voice spoke in your ear. “well if it ain’t the most talented girl i’ve ever seen.”

you stood up from your chair, seeing a smiling morris who had a singular rose in his hand. before you could jump into his arms and give him a bone crushing hug, he got to you first, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground.

“you were amazin’ out there, Y/N.”

you pulled away, the biggest grin you've ever had on your face. "you really think so?"

"i know so."

you rolled your eyes. "you're a big softie and you know it."

he smiled sarcastically, setting you back on the ground and lightly pinching your cheek. "any more of that and we're done, silly girl."

you giggled, and only then did you remember the single rose in his hand. morris looked down, almost as if he had forgotten about it too.

"oh, yeah, uh… this is for you. for being so beautiful up there," morris said, immediately getting shy. you bit your lip, holding back a giddy grin.

you stepped closer to him and stood en pointe to give him a kiss on the lips. "it's lovely, morris. where did you get it? you didn’t have that earlier," you asked, taking his hand in your free one.

"i took it from the bouquet that the guy sittin' next to me had."

you blinked at him before sighing. "of course you did."

[sl-newsie]

Be Patient ( Riff x Brooklyn girl) *Mafia*

“Ey, Scar! I need to talk to ya!” King barks from his throne of crates.

I groan as I get up from my fishing post and walk up to the infamous ‘King of Brooklyn.’

“Whaddaya want, Spot?”

“What if I told you that you was get’n married tomorrow?”

I burst out laugh’n, hold’n my sides like a maniac. “I’d say you’s been in the sun too long, Spotty!”

His eyes narrow and he hops down from his perch. He’s only a few inches taller than me, but from his gaze I feel way more smaller.

“Quit the sarcasm, Scar. You’s get’n married tomorrow, capiche?”

He- He’s really not kidding? 

I gape. “Wait- Wha… Colon, why the Hell am I get’n married? I ain’t even been asked out before!”

“Exactly, so you’s open for suitors. It just so happens that one-a the Jets needs a lady, so I set ‘im up with you.”

By now I’m pacing back and forth, trying to comprehend this ridiculous idea.

“Wh- Why’d you have to rope me into this? What’s so important ‘bout this guy get’n a goil?”

Spot crosses his arms. “Made an agreement that if you did this there’d be no more rumbles.”

“Colon, why the Hell would you do that?! Ya can’t just sell me off as some peace deal! If you think I’s gonna go through with this you’re crazy!”

He gets up in my face. “I say you are, ‘cause I’m tired-a Lorton and his rumbles! And I know you are too, ‘cause I’ve seen how you react to all the injuries you wrap up! Yeah we win, but we’s been get’n our asses kicked along the way! Give’n you to the Jets is the only way I can guarantee no more rumbles!”

I cannot believe this!

“How is me marrying a complete stranger any type of guarantee?!”

Spot smirks. “Don’t worry, I think it will.”

“So… I’m just a pawn to you? You know I’ve given all I have to the Brooklyn mafia- how could you just- just sell me away?!”

Spot holds up his hands. “Now Scar, I ain’t sell’n you away, I’s just look’n out for the family-”

“By giving me away? To the Jets of all mobs? Why not ‘Hattan or the Sharks? I’s got friends there!”

“Too bad, you’s marrying a Jet. That’s that.”

“And if I refuse?” I glare.

Spot then pushes me against a crate. “Then you’ll have to live through the guilt-a seeing more and more Brooklyn kids bleed in the street!”

“I- I…” I gotta get outta here!

I push past King and take off across the bridge towards the West Side, tears streaming down my face. How can he do this- after all I’ve done? I keep running until I reach Anita’s neighborhood in the West Side- a place swarming with Puerto Ricans and thriving culture. Why couldn’t I live here instead? I gotta get help.

I climb up the fire escape and into a familiar window.

“Hello? Anita? Maria? It’s Scarlet!” I call out.

“Scarlet? Mi querida, what are you doing here? How did you escape Spot?” Anita asks from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes. “More like escaped his wrath! The bastard married me off to some Jet boy!”

“What?!” Maria gasps. “You’re married?!”

“No, not yet. I got ‘til tomorrow unless I skip town. But King says that the marriage will be a peace agreement between Brooklyn and the West Side, so if I leave I’ll just mess up everything even more. B- But how can I just marry a complete stranger?!” I sit down holding my face in my hands while Maria comforts me.

“Don’t worry, mi querida. I’m sure it won’t be that bad-”

“That bad? After what they did to you and the other Sharks?” I outburst.

Anita hands me a cookie. “Si, Si, the Jets had their… moments with the Sharks, but after Tony and Maria’s marriage they’ve been on good terms ever since. Besides, Colon wouldn’t just send you off with a half-crazed random lunatic.”

“Still… I can’t believe he’d just spring this on me! I- I’ll be married tomorrow…” 

Maria stands up. “But for now you’re not. Vámonos! We are going to pick out a dress for you. Anita, will you do the honors?”

Anita gets a wicked grin and begins leading me out of the apartment. “Vámonos, mi querida! We’re going to find you the prettiest dress in all of New York!”

We rush outside and into multiple isles of vibrant fabric, overflowing with reds, greens, blues, and other colors I hadn’t even seen before.

“Hold on, chica! I think you’ll look best in blue…” Anita scans the fabrics.

“But Brooklyn’s color is red-” I argue.

“And you’re marrying a Jet, so color codes don’t count! Red washes your eyes out, so blue it is! Here!” Anita holds up a piece of deep turquoise, like that of a deep sea. “Perfecto! Give me 12 hours, and I guarantee you the most beautiful dress you’ll ever wear in your life!”

I groan. “No, Anita- you really don’t have to do that-”

“Of course I do, chica. If this rushed wedding is going to be the biggest event of your life, then you will be properly dressed! I want that Jet boy to see you and fall right over!”

I chuckle. “That’ll be a nice get-to-know-you moment.”

“Exactamente! Now Maria, take her away so I can get started- I want it to be a surprise!” She ushers us away and heads back to the apartment.

Maria beckons me towards a bakery. “Here, Scarlet. Let’s pick out a cake!”

I scoff. “I’ll barely be able to afford paying Anita for the dress, much less a cake!”

“Oh nonsense! Anita will sew the dress for free! And we’re just window browsing- not really buying.”

We almost reach the bakery when I see-

“Crap.” I grit my teeth. “It’s Pulitzer.”

“What?”

“Pulitzer, New York police chief. He’s been look’n for me to get to Spot- I can’t let him see me!”

I frantically look for a way out, but come up empty.

“Ooh! Here!” Maria starts smudging my face with mud.

“Maria what in the woild-!”

“Don’t rub it off- the mud will make you look Puerto Rican!” She also uses mud to cover up my Brooklyn red tank top. After finishing up, she takes a good look. “Ahí está! Perfect!”

We linger behind some crates while we wait for Pulitzer to pass, when an arm yanks me away.

“Hola, señorita. Me thinks you wouldn’t mind tell’n me about some-a your Shark friends.”

Uh-oh. It’s Morris Delancy- and no doubt his brodda ain’t far behind.

“Run! Run, Maria! Run before they-!” 

Morris clamps a hand over my mouth.

“Ah, you ain’t one-a them. You’s just one dirty goil, ain’t ya?” He chuckles darkly.

“I swear, Morris- I got a knife! You try anyth’n and I’ll turn you from a rooster to a hen faster than you can blink!”

“Shut up, skank!”

“Hey!” A voice shouts.

Morris is yanked away from me and before I know it is be’n beaten to a pulp by-

“Lorton?”

It is Lorton- Riff Lorton, the Jet leader himself. God, he must know who I'm marry’n tomorrow. And if he sees a Brooklyn member on his turf… I can’t let him know.

“And if I see you or your brodda on my turf again I’ll gladly give you anodda shiner!” Lorton wipes blood from his lip and then sees me sprawled in the dirt.

“Hey girly girl- you sure know how to pick a fight! Need a hand?” He helps me up and I can’t help but be surprised as to how considerate he’s being.

“So- ya new in town, señorita?” 

He must think I’m Puerto Rican!

“Um- Si, I am. And uh- gracias. Thank you for your help, but now I gotta go.” I turn and quickly walk back towards the bakery when I feel Riff’s hand find mine again.

I look back and he’s smirking.

“Wow girly- I donno what’s worse. Your accent or your Spanish!” 

I groan and hang my head in defeat. “Ok fine, I ain’t Puerto Rican. But it draws the cops off my back. Anyways, why’re you so nice to Puerto Ricans all-a the sudden, Lorton? I thought you hated them.” I cross my arms.

Lorton scratches his neck. “Gotta say, Tony really changed my perspective. Maria changed his whole woild, and in do’n so changed a lotta things around here. I ain’t like I used to be. But enough about me, who’re you, doll?”

“I- Uh-” I inch away more, but Lorton only cages me in even more.

“I know everybody from the West Side, but I ain’t ever seen you before. As a mafia leader, I gotta know, so I asks again: who are you?”

I glare up at his smirking face, then sigh in defeat.

“Name’s Scar, from Brooklyn. And before ya say anyth’n I’ll gladly leave your turf.”

I expect Lorton to start beat’n me up, but instead he seems surprised. “Really? Brooklyn? I’dve thought ‘Hattan foist, or Queens. By the look-a ya I’d say Colon treats you well.”

“Yeah, ‘till he betrayed me,” I mudda.

“Huh?”

I sigh again. Here it comes.

“Colon got me mixed up in some peace agreement and now my whole life’s plans are down the drain. But why do you care? Just-” I scoff and duck under his arm to continue walk’n. “Just let me leave, please! I gotta make sure Maria’s ok.”

“Oh, you’re friends with Maria? Then you must know Tony, and Cowboy.”

I nod. “When you know one, chances are ya meet all of ‘em.”

“Except me,” Lorton points out.

“Except you.”

“Well… whaddya think?” He raises a brow.

I stop and give Lorton a good look. “More gentleman-like than your reputation says. You’s certainly cleaned up, Lorton-”

“Call me Riff,” Lorton takes my hand and kisses it, nearly cause’n me to jerk away. “No need for formal names. I only use it dure’n mob business.”

I gulp. “Um, ok. But seriously Riff, I gotta go meet Maria to make sure she’s ok-”

“She is. If she weren’t, Baby John wouldda reported it. Believe me, I got connections everywhere, doll. So now that you got my name, can I have yours?”

“I told you it’s Scar.”

“I don’t think so- pretty goil like you has a real name. So what is it?”

“Pushy, ain’t ya? Fine- it’s Scarlet. Just don’t go spill’n it, ‘cause like you I got my own reputation to worry ‘bout, though after tomorrow I mine as well say goodbye to that too…”

“Sounds like this peace deal’s really get’n to ya.” Riff… actually sounds worried.

“Eh, I’ll grow into it. If it means what Colon says it means, it’ll be a big help to everybody. Now please, Riff- let me go find Maria.”

Riff seems hesitant, but then lets my hand go- and for some dumb reason I feel sad to leave. He’s really not a bad guy, and not bad to look at either...

“See ya later, Scarlet. I’ll keep tabs on those Delancys, alright?”

I nod. “Nice to finally meet the Jets leader. See ya, Riff.”

I walk back to the bakery and find Maria holding a box of donuts.

“Scarlet, mi querida! Are you alright?”

I nod. “Had some trouble, but… I think I just met Riff Lorton.”

She squints. “You think?”

“Yeah. I met him but he’s… not a jerk. He’s… actually quite nice.”

Later I eventually make my way back to Brooklyn, drag’n my feet in an attempt to avoid Spot’s rage. When I get back to the red Brooklyn mafia building I’m met by Danny.

“Hiya, Scar. Colon’s been wait’n for ya.”

I groan. “Where?”

He points up. “In his office.”

I climb the ruby stairs and cautiously pace down the dark hallway to Spot’s door. I knock three times.

“Enter.”

I open the door and find Colon at his desk, going over documents.

“Ah, Scar. Ya finally came to your senses. Glad to have ya back.”

“Colon, I’ll do your stupid marriage. But just tell me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Will this random stranger make me happy?” I bite my lip.

Colon thinks for a moment, then nods. “Yes, I think he will. I wouldn’t have you do this if I didn’t think it was safe. Just trust me, ok? Now go get some sleep- we meet with the West Side tomorrow at noon.”

I gulp. “Um- Maria and Anita have a dress for me, so I’ll meet you at the church.”

Spot nods again. “Alright, but if you skip out on this-” he picks up a knife and twists the gleaming blade in his hands. “-don’t ever bother come’n back.” he adds darkly.

I give a stiff nod and head back to my bunk- not even sure I’ll be able to fall asleep before my life changes forever…

When I knock on Anita’s door the next morning, I’m run’n on only 4 hours-a sleep. Already feel’n nauseous, I donno how I’m gonna be able to make it through today.

“Anita! It’s Scarlet! I’m get’n married at noon!”

Maria open the door, wear’n a wide-eyed expression.

“At noon?! Ay ay! That only gives us a few hours!” She lets me in and leads me to Anita’s sewing room.

“Here we are, chica!” Anita holds up- without a doubt, then most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen!

“Oh Anita… you really shouldn’t have!” I reach out to feel the sheek fabric.

“Not now, mi querida! Now we must get you ready!

I what seems like seconds, it’s already 11:45 and I’m follow’n Maria to the church.

“I donno, Maria. What if- What if he doesn’t like me? What if I ain’t good enough?”

“Nonsense, chica! You will be an amazing wife, just as you are a good friend! No crying, or your makeup will run!”

We reach the church and already I can see Anita sit’n with Bernardo and a few odda Sharks next to Bucky and the odda Brooklyn members. Maria joins them while I go find Colon, but not before I scan the odda side-a the isle. I recognize Mouthpiece, Racetrack’s brodda, and a few odda Jets- but I don’t see Riff. Odd. But I do see Cowboy and a few odda ‘Hattan fellas.

I reach Spot in the back with the priest, and I nearly collapse when I realize what’s about to happen.

“Calm down, Scar. It’s your wedding- try to relax-” 

“Relax? Spot, how can I relax when I’m about to marry a complete stranger?” I gasp.

“I wouldn’t say ‘complete.’” A voice says.

I whip my head around and see-

I gasp. “Riff?”

“Hey doll. How ya feel’n?” 

Riff, Riff Lorton, is wear’n a tux.

“Wow.” He looks at my dress. “You look… stunning!”

 He cleans up nice too- wait. 

“Riff- I- I- You’re the one I’m…?” I look frantically between Spot ‘nd Riff, who both nod. 

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad, Scar,” Colon says.

“B- But- He- I- Not good enough…” I studda complete nonsense as I try to wrap my head around this. Riff… my husband?

“Hey, hey…” Riff helps me sit down and gently wraps an arm around me. “I know ya hate me, Scarlet. But you gotta know- I never wanted this either. I don’t think I’s husband material- but when Colon brought up a deal about no more rumbles… It just works bedda for everybody. And- I’m sorry for make’n you do this. I didn’t know who I was marry’n either, but I godda say I’m glad it’s you.” He looks deep into my eyes. “Please forgive me, Scarlet.”

I choke down a hiccup. “But- Am I good enough? I wanna make sure there’ll be no more rumbles, but what if I’m not good enough for you?”

Riff’s eyes are now glazed over and his breaths are shaky as he grips me tighter- and by now I’m lean’n into him in fear of faint’n.

“God, Scarlet- you’s already shown me how good-a person you are. You don’t gotta prove anyth’n, and from what Colon says-”

“No.” I state firmly. “I want you to know me from how you see me, Riff, not from what Colon’s told you. I- I’ll marry you willingly, but you gotta let me get to know you. Like I said, you’s a stranger to me, and I need to know you better. Just… be patient with me.”

Riff nods, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

“Riff, what’s wrong? Did I-?”

Riff buries his face in my neck and hugs me tighter. “God, I never thought I’d find a goil will’n to put up with me-”

“Yeah, yeah, cry me a river! C’mon, Lorton- get ready!” Colon pulls Riff away and has him follow the priest towards the altar. “Good luck, Scar!”

But- He- I can’t believe the biggest moment of my life is being so- so belittled and rushed!

The ceremony is cheap- no decorations, no music. But if this means I’ll get to spend my life with Riff, maybe it’ll all be worth it.

The que for me to walk is a brief nod from Colon, who looks bored out of his mind. I see Maria and Anita silently clapping for me, and some-a the boys are stare’n at my dress.

“Sweet Jesus…”

“Who made that?”

“Riff’s one lucky guy!”

I look ahead and see a Riff, who’s nervously biting his lip. When I reach the altar I don’t even hear the priest’s woids- I just stare at Riff.

“I’ll take care of you, Scarlet. I promise,” he whispers.

I give a shy smile. “I know you will, Jet Boy.”

[newmsies]

if anyone knows any good oscar or morris delancey fanfics that aren't "x reader" or stuff like that, and they're not the scum of the earth please tell me. I'm bloody desperate here mate 😭😭 I'll do anything please for the love of god idc if it's on wattpad or ao3 i just want some good non x reader fanfics of my boys and it's damn near impossible 🥲

I'll draw them for y'all I'll do anything but please i need good fanfics of my babies i love them more than life itself and I'm suffering here

[youaintnothinbuta]

I’m so glad I found a person who writes for newsies! Can you write something about Jack being super protective and caring about the reader? They aren’t dating yet but whenever the Delancy bros bother her or another newsie he’s like 🏃 “gotta go protect my girl”

Thank you!!!

“You don’t need to put up with their nonsense.” - jack kelly x reader 

Summary: ^^^

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 413

Warnings: none, fluff, probably typosss you know how I am

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You navigated the crowded sidewalk, your focus set on the task that was getting your stack of papes for the day. You dreaded this point in the morning, as the Delancey Brothers were never particularly kind.

As you approached the gates, Oscar and Morris intercepted your path. A pair of mischievous grins painted their faces as they watched you, you knew their snide remarks were about to begin.

“Look who we got here, you lost little girl?” Oscar quipped, a sly grin playing on his face. You startled slightly as he jumped in your face out of nowhere.

Morris joined in, “What's the matter, sweetheart? You’re not scared of me, are ya?”

“Please, just gimme my papes.” You sighed, trying to brush off their comments, determined to maintain your composure. However, the relentless jabs persisted, wearing down your resolve with each passing word. Amidst the taunts, Jack, who had been preoccupied with sorting through a fresh batch of papes, caught wind of the commotion. His eyes narrowed as he observed the Delancey Brothers harassing you, a protective instinct flickering within him.

Without hesitation, Jack swiftly approached, his stride purposeful and his gaze piercing. “What's going on here?” he demanded, a subtle growl underlying his words.

Oscar, ever the provocateur, responded with a dismissive laugh. “Just having a little fun with the girl, Kelly. Nothing to get your feathers all ruffled about.”

Jack's eyes flashed with a mixture of concern and a simmering anger. He positioned himself between you and the Delancey Brothers. “What a poor excuse of a man you are to be picking on a girl like this.”

Morris scoffed, locking eyes with Jack. “Save the hero act. She ain’t bothered, are ya honey?”

You looked at Jack, your eyes asking him not to leave. Jack reached to your hand and took the pennies from you, he smacked them down in front of the Delancey brothers and snatched a stack of papers from Oscar, handing them to you. Jack's hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you away from the Delancey Brothers with a protective gesture. “You don't need to put up with their nonsense. Stick with me, I won’t let them harass you like that again.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Your cheeks were tinted slightly pink by his words.

As you continued on your way, Jack maintained a protective hold on you, casting a lingering, meaningful glance over his shoulder to ensure the Delancey Brothers got the message.

[h0nkch0c0late]

Guilt

Crutchy Morris x fem! Reader, platonic!Jack Kelly x reader

Summary: When Crutchy gets sent to the Refuge, Jack Kelly and Y/n waste no time in trying to get the boy back.

"I should've stayed back and helped him." Y/n frowned as she, Jack, and David began their mission towards the Refuge, where Y/n and Jack knew for sure Crutchy was being held.

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he held rope in his other hand, "it's not your fault. If you stayed back, you both woulda been caught, and what good does that do ya?"

She shrugged but didn't have the energy to argue with him during that current moment, dead set on getting her boyfriend back.

As they hurriedly crossed the street to where the Refuge sat, David decided to voice his doubt.

"How can you two be sure they sent Crutchy here?" He questioned.

"How can I be sure the Delanceys stink - 'Cause that's how things work. An orphan gets arrested, Snyder gets him sent here to be 'rehabilitated.'" Jack began to explain as he turned the rope into a lasso and swung it onto a chimney pot on the roof, "the more kids in the Refuge, the more money the city sends to take care of 'em, and the more Snyder can steal." He starts climbing the rope, "he's here alright."

Y/n nods at David before following Jack, her expression glum but determined.

David looks around the place nervously, climbing after her shortly after.

------------------------------------------------------

As Jack taps on the window of Crutchy's bunkroom, one of the inmates, Tenpin (who was 9 years old a the most), looks up and grins.

"Cowboy! Ya miss the joint?" He greets.

"Whattayasay, Tenpin. You got a new guy, Crutchy-" Jack begins.

"The gimp? I'll get him for ya." Tenpin nods before wondering off.

Y/n watches from above, sitting next to David, who seemed to get more nervous with every passing minute.

Part of her wished that she was the one hanging from the rope instead of Jack so she could apologize to him face to face. Sure, she could do that when they got him out, but she's the impatient type.

She was also in the middle of calming David down, as he had begun to freak out how loud they were talking. Jack wasn't exactly helping as he began to have a casual conversation as Tenpin walked away.

"That's Tenpin- S'posed to get out last Christmas, but Snyder keeps tackin' more time on his sentence -"

David was frantic, "be quiet- they'll hear you!" He shushed.

Y/n rolled her eyes at the boy, "Would ya calm down, Dave! They won't hear a thing. Trust Jack a little more, will you?" She groaned.

Crutchy then appears, grinning at the sight of Jack hanging outside the window. "Hey, whattaya hangin' around here for? That Dave up there? Hiya Dave!" He waves, glancing up at David.

Y/n's head appears over the ledge once more at the voice of her boyfriend, one of her hands now covering David's mouth to keep him from whining, "hiya, loverboy!" She smiles, waving with her other hand.

He waved back, his grin widening at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Go get your hat, Crutch- kiss Snyder goodbye." Jack tells him, causing Crutchy to look away from his girlfriend and back to his best friend.

His grin drops a little, "Yeah...hey, you shoulda seen me in court today - old judge Movealong Monahan hisself! Took him two minutes to move me along to Snyder for 'my own good'" He tried to deflect.

Jack could see Y/n's impatience growing from his peripheral as he sighed, "Later, Crutchie - get your stuff." He tells, his hands wrapped around the bars.

Crutchy grabs Jack's wrist as his voice lowers, not wanting Y/n to hear. "Listen, Jack... Truth is, I ain't walking so good. Oscar and Morris kinda worked me over a little..."

Jack's eyes narrowed, "they hurt you? Don't worry, we'll carry you -"

Crutchy cut him off, "I don't want nobody carryin' me!" He whispered harshly, "especially not in front of my lady."

His eyes flash with pride, a soft smile planting his lips. "It ain't so bad. Get three squares, sorta, and there's some swell fellas..." He looks back up towards Y/n and David, Y/n's hand still over David's mouth as she began to lecture him about how annoying his paranoia was. Crutchy's smile didn't fade as he watched his girlfriend, a small chuckle coming from his throat.

Jack decided to use Crutchy's love for her against him, "what about Y/n, huh? You don't wanna leave the lady by herself now, do ya? She'll be devastated when she finds out you ain't comin' with us."

Crutchy chuckles again, looking at Jack, "she won't be on her lonesome! She's got you to protect her."

Jack frowns, "Crutchie, she blames herself for your capture. If you stay..."

Crutchy shakes his head, his smile fading as he becomes serious, "Jack, you gotta promise me you'll protect her, aight? An' I know she's gunna keep blaming herself for this, so just...keep remindin' her it ain't, okay?"

Jack looks up at Y/n and sighs, "Alright, okay, but Crutch-"

Crutchy doesn't give Jack the chance to finish his sentence as he looks back up at the two roof dwellers, "They still talk about how Jack rode outta here on that coach!"

David let's out a resigned sigh as he pries Y/n's hand off of his mouth, "Teddy Roosevelt's, right?" He responds.

"You already heard the story." Crutchy chuffed, smiling.

"You mean it's true?" David asks.

Y/n punches David in the shoulder lightly, "Of course it's true!"

Crutchy hears something, telling Jack to cheese it just as Snyder appears.

He strides towards the window, the room now in utter silence other than the sound of his footsteps as he passes the many bunks. He stops at the window, scanning the outside.

Crutchy quickly comes to the rescue (just so Jack wouldn't have to hang under the window longer than he had to), tapping Snyder's shoulder, "Uh, Mr. Warden, sir, ya know, I was thinkin', I'd just like ya to know, that when you were takin' a nap this afternoon-"

------------------------------------------------------

As Y/n, Jack, and David made their way away from the Refuge without Crutchy, Y/n couldn't help the guilt that began to eat at her insides again.

Because of this, she stopped in her tracks, "I wanna go back for him." She stated firmly, crossing her arms.

The two boys also stopped, turning to look at her. David's eyes were wide, "Are you crazy?!" He whispered, "You can't go back there!"

Jack frowned, "Y/n we can't-"

Y/n cut Jack off, "it's my fault he's even there in the first place! I wanna try - alone this time."

David's expression displayed the very definition of horrified. Jack had been three seconds away from being caught, and SHE WANTED TO GO BACK??????

Jack shook his head, "No. It's too dangerous for you."

Y/n scoffed, "dangerous? Since when have you ever been against me doing dangerous things?! This is CRUTCHY we're talking about!"

"I said, NO!" Jack told her, his voice raised and aggressive.

Y/n began to tear up. Never once had Jack raised his voice at her like that, but she refused to back down, "why not?!'

Jack threw his head back in frustration, "Because he doesn't WANT to be saved!!" He exclaimed.

Y/n froze in her spot, "w-what?" Her eyebrows laced together in confusion and hurt.

Jack's frustration melted, and he began to feel angry at himself for raising his voice at her. Sure, it was an accident, but as tough as she was, seeing her hurt was like seeing an injured puppy. "They... they worked him too hard and made his bum leg even worse. I'm sorry, Y/n, I tried to convince him..."

The girl's posture deflated as she took a step back, "this wouldn't have happened if I'd just..." she trailed off.

Jack stepped towards her, his hands grabbing her wrists gently, Y/n's eyes turned to the ground as she began to cry. "Hey-stop sayin' it's your fault, 'Cause it ain't, aight?" He let go of her right wrist and used that hand to lift her chin to look at him, beginning to wipe her tears away with his thumb, "It was Crutch's choice go stay anyway. You know how stubborn he gets, especially when it comes to his leg."

Y/n looked at him, her eyes still glistening with tears as she nodded. "Yeah....I-I guess..."

David was nervously tapping the ground with his foot, "Can we go now?" He questions, his eyes darting around the streets heavy with paranoia.

Jack glances at Y/n, who nods, and he throws an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah... let's go."

As they began to walk, he couldn't help glancing at the girl beside him. Protecting her was a promise he knew he couldn't break.

----

No matter how many times Jack told Y/n it wasn't her fault, that heavy feeling in her heart would prove as a counterpoint, weighing heavier and heavier the further they got from the Refuge.

She knew that the only way that for that feeling to go away was to hold her Loverboy again. And boy, she couldn't wait for that day to come. If it ever did.

And guilt... guilt is a hard thing to rid yourself of. -------------------------------------------------------

Bro I keep seeing two spellings of Crutchy's name it was literally so hard to choose which one to actually use.

Anyway stan Crutchy <3

[lonelyroommp3]

lowkey i think a revival of newsies fandom and specifically morris delancey x reader fic would be THE funniest thing to come out of this summer of challengers

[ao3feed-newsies]

Newsies oneshots/headcannons

by, Blinkstaymidzy by Blinkstaymidzy Many random newsies oneshots/head cannons You can request any ship! I will not do any Les romantic parings and will not do x reader.(sorry) I will do fluff and smut. Words: 1173, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English Fandoms: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly (Newsies), Les Jacobs, Sarah Jacobs (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon, Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Finch (Newsies), Specs (Newsies), Romeo (Newsies), Smalls (Newsies), Mush Meyers, Elmer (Newsies), Henry (Newsies), JoJo (Newsies), Tommy Boy (Newsies), Kid Blink, Buttons (Newsies), Sniper (Newsies), Mike (Newsies), Ike (Newsies), Morris Delancey, Oscar Delancey, Crutchie (Newsies), Myron (Newsies), Hot Shot (Newsies) Relationships: Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Spot Conlon/Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Finch/Tommy Boy (Newsies), Romeo/Specs (Newsies) read : https://ift.tt/QNvgz42 - December 03, 2023 at 06:59PM

[medoraiscarryingthebanner]

Guys the Delancey brothers fanart i've been looking at has fucked up my brain.

I wrote a Morris x reader song fic oneshot-

[jesuistrestriste]

i was at my desk j now and a dirty filthy HORRENDOUS idea just popped into my mind .. and now i think im gonna finish pt 2 of the art donaldson fic and then im gonna write abt this idea bc WHEWWW

may I present to u: phone sex w art.

like just imagine he’s away at some tournament and you couldn’t attend bc you had to take care of business transactions at home, so he calls you when he’s in his airbnb bc he can’t stop thinking about you and he’s just so horny and hyped up on adrenaline + nerves. bye.

[blondewhoresworld]

,, what was i made for? ”

[1899-newsboy-strike]

Coworkers - Morris Delancey Imagine

Requested: A Morris Delancey x Reader where the reader starts working with him and Oscar and he falls head over heels for her. She starts becoming friends with the Newsies making him nervous that they might say bad things or thinks she may like one of them. You can make up the rest of the storyline and stuff though. Thank you!! :)

Warning: none

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Your uncle had gotten you a job through his connections, and you couldn’t have been more nervous. You’d been working with the Delanceys for a few weeks before you had started getting close to the newsies. Unlike the brothers you usually made it a habit to ask the boys how they’d been and have small conversations with them while they were in line. Morris couldn’t help but get a bit jealous and worry about you getting close to them. 

He’d already developed a crush on you and didn’t want them changing the way you saw him.It’d been a month of you working there when you walked in to a surprise. Morris had placed a hat that looked exactly like his and Oscar’s, the both of them smiling at you from ear to ear.

“Welcome to the family.” Oscar joked, reaching over to playfully hit your shoulder. 

“Yeah you look like one of us now.” Morris smiled down at you, tilting the hat on your head causing you to blush.

“Thank you guys, I appreciate it.” You explained, looking down at your feet.

That morning you’d decided to hang around the newsies sitting on the wagon and talking to most of them. It’d been the usual trashing the headline and asking them how their week had been, until the conversation seemed to be turned around to you.

“Where’d you get the hat Y/N?” Race asked once he got his papers, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Morris gave it to me this morning.” You explained, the blush you had earlier reappearing on your face.

“Morris?” Albert laughed, shock evident in his voice.

“Yeah.” You explained, your eyebrows knitting together. “Why’s that so hard to believe?” You asked looking around at all of the boys who now looked at you as though you had two heads.

“The Delanceys ain’t that nice is all.” Crutchie mumbled making you look over at him. 

“What do you mean? They’re not that bad. I could see Oscar but… Morris isn’t bad.” You explained, looking around at the boys. Before anyone could say anything else Wiesel called you over. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You smiled, hopping off the wagon, making your way over to the now empty line. “Yes sir?” You asked, causing him to smile. 

“Y/N I told you, you don’t have to call me that.” Mr. Wiesel explained. “You and Morris are counting and sorting through the money today.” He explained, patting the top of the money box. 

“Yes si- Mr. Wiesel.” You nodded, grabbing the box before you walked back inside with Morris. “You wanna write it down this time? We can sort together first and then I’ll tell you what we have.” You explained making Morris smile and nod.

“Yeah that sounds great.” He said, both of you sitting on the stools next to the table. It was silent at first, both of you concentrating on making piles, but then you couldn’t help but talk.

“So, the newsies told me something today.” You explained making Morris tense up. He didn’t say anything, staying quiet until you spoke. “They said that you and Oscar aren’t the nicest. I didn’t think it’s true but… is it?” You asked looking up at him.

“I swear it ain’t really me. It’s more Oscar. Though I’m sure I don’t help.” He admitted looking down in shame.

“You know, it’s never too late to stop.” You explained, placing your hand on top of his. “You’re not a bad guy Morris.” You whispered softly, your thumb running over his knuckles. He leaned down, his lips meeting yours softly. You let out a gasp, kissing back, before the door opened.

“Woah, well hello love birds.” Oscar’s voice said, making you both jump apart. You looked down at the table, frantically sorting out all the coins. “Don’t mind me.” He laughed, jumping onto the counter grabbing one of the coins and threw it at Oscar. You both ignored him and the jokes, not even talking to each other, blushing anytime your hands accidentally brushed each other.

———————————–   

Tag List: 

@hats-or-badges @theatrequeer @snakeyboimusical @mariah-vg @mathletemadison @briefexpertgladiator @the-moon-looks-old-and-gray @neko-kaiyo @fuck-your-fandoms 

[gxrcias-gothgf]

The Only Exception (Morris Delancey X Reader)

Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts

Morris never really had great examples of love and support growing up. He never really knew how to express his emotions properly. His father made some mistake and tried to fix it. Morris and Oscar never knew what their father did wrong but their mother said she could forgive him but swore she would never forget it. Morris just assumed that love wasn’t something that could last. 

Up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness

Morris thought that he was okay without love in his life. He just assumed that if he did fall in love that he would fall out of love like his parents did. That’s where you come in. You had known Morris for years. You two weren’t best friends but you two were close. Well up until about a month prior. 

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

Morris had suddenly become distant and quite rude to you and you weren’t sure why. You decided to just leave it be and let Morris be a jerk. See if you care. Well you did care but he didn’t need to know that. 

You were working on a new watercolor piece when Oscar and Morris stopped by your house. The two walked up behind you and looked at your art over your shoulder. 

“What’s that supposed to be?” Morris asked as he squinted at the canvas.

“It’s the moon and sky dumbass,” Oscar responded to Morris with an annoyed tone. 

Morris rolled his eyes before making a comment about how he didn’t see it. It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. You sighed, continuing to paint the sky. The two sat in the room with you as Oscar tried to make friendly conversation between you and Morris. 

As the conversation continued, Morris continued with his act of being rude to you. Finally fed up with the boy's attitude, you snapped. 

“Morris why are you such a douche?” You said as you whipped around to look at him. 

Oscar slightly jumped at your sudden outburst. The two shared a look before Oscar stood from his seat and left the room. You looked at Morris confused as he walked over to you. He grabbed your paint brush and set it on the little table you had set up by your work space. You looked at him once again and he sighed. 

But, you are, the only exception

Morris started out by explaining his past with his parents. How his father wasn’t the nicest but his mother still loved him. How he had always assumed that’s what love was like. Until his parents separated. Then he didn’t believe in love. 

“That was until I started falling for you. I don’t want to be like my father. I don’t want to hurt you like he hurt my mom. I thought that if I pushed you away and you decided you didn’t want me around before I had the chance to do something like he did then it’d be better,” Morris said as he played with his hands anxiously. 

“Morris, you are not your father. You are not your uncle. You are not your brother. You are you. None of them define who you are. You do that,” you softly smiled at him and grabbed his hands. 

Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

“I still can’t believe that I ended up getting such a wonderful girl to be mine,” Morris said as he pulled you into a hug. 

“Imagine if you had decided you were just going to continue being a douche that day,” you laughed as Morris spun you around. You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Please remind me you aren’t a dream,” Morris sighed happily. You once again pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away and smiled at your boy.

[sl-newsie]

Chapter Eighteen: I Don’t Know You (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep. Tha next day comes and an army of maids rushes in, grab’n and pull’n my clothes off and toss’n them in a heap. I ain’t embarrassed ‘cause they’s all women, and it all moves so fast. They throw me into a white porcelain tub, which just reminds me of Spot. I’m scrubbed raw and hastily dried.

My shirt, nickers, and half-corset is replaced with a sky blue, somewhat practical shirtwaist and long skirt. The bodice is extremely narrow, with a trim going down tha skirt, with sweeping curves and scallops of lace sewn diagonally. Instead of work boots, I’s forced to wear black Victorian pumps that squeeze my feet in. Tha corset is looser with a low bust line, emphasize’n my goilish qualities even more. I hate every part of it.

“You really do have an attractive figure, dearie,” one maid compliments tartly.

“Do I’s look like I care?”

“You’ll get used to it,” anodda gently assures. “But don’t worry, miss. Soon you will have many suitors to choose from!”

I already got one- tha Devil’s son!

But I can tell she’s a bit jealous, and she’s actually be’n nice to me, so I try to be nice too. 

“But I don’t think I’s ever gonna be as decent-look’n as you. Besides, you’s already a ‘lady.’” I smile.

She looks down, embarrassed, but still enjoys tha compliment.

Next, I’m tossed into a chair and my knotted hair is pulled and brushed to tha point that I think it’s gonna be pulled from my head. It’s curled and piled up heavily. To add more pain, my eyebrows and eyelashes are plucked and trimmed. Then comes face powder, rouge, lip color, and eye paint. When I’m shown a mirror, I don’t even recognize myself- so pale and weak-look’n, like a porcelain doll.

When I’m led outside, Oscar Delancy is wait’n- for me?

“Hello, toots. Look’n forward to you keep’n me happy.”

I stiffen when he tries to touch my face- so I slap him, ‘properly.’

“Beat it,” I hiss.

He sneers back. “Soon you’s won’t have a choice,” he seethes before stride’n past, give’n my behind a slap before he leaves. Morris goes with him, but not before give’n me an almost apologetic look.

My life’s about ta become a live’n Hell...

I’m led outside and down a big staircase, where Jack and Pulitzer are wait’n.

“What are we’s do’n taday?” I ask, only to get anodda slap. They’s beginn’n to have no effect on me, since I seem to carry pain with me everywhere.

“We are going to present you to the public properly and teach you how to interact.”

“Perhaps…” I respond. But it don’t mean I’ll learn anything.

Tha doors open and I’m shoved into a carriage- but not before I see a pair of wide eyes from behind. It’s David! He followed tha carriage here! I peek behind and make eye contact with him, but he just scrunches his nose in confusion. Does he know it’s me?

Soon we arrive in tha center of town, with crowds stream’n everywhere and… tha newsies! My chest swells with joy and a big grin spreads on my face. They’s still strik’n! I see David rush ova ta them and start ta tell them someth’n. It’s good ta see ‘em all, Race, Mush, Skittery… My face freezes. Through tha carriage window I stare straight ahead with my eyes glued on a pair of faded red suspenders. Spot. Alive!

“Spot!” I breathe quietly to hide it from Pulitzer and Jack, but inside my heart is overjoyed!

Pulitzer steps out foist, then Jack.

“Well if it ain’t tha traiter hiself.”

“Get oudda here, scabber!”

“How’s tha rich life treat’n ya, Jackie boy?” I hear. Spot.

I can’t take it any longer. I hurriedly get oudda tha carriage, almost trip’n on my stupid dress. I smile at tha guys, but… they all look at me like David did, as if I was nobody.

“That’s the girl I was telling you about,” I hear David say to Race.

“Who is she?”

“Probably some rich goil.”

“Wow, Jack. Ya gots a new goil?”

My mouth hangs open. They’s don’t know it’s me. How could they? Even I don’t know it’s me! They’s think I’s just some ‘rich goil!’ 

“Spot!” I call out. He turns his head, and his face bears tha same confused expression.

“Do I know you’s?”

My mouth hangs open and I can feel my posture collaps’n. “S-Spot, it’s- it’s me,” I plead weakly.

Mush is tha foist to see it.

“Becca?”

Race does a double-take. “Becs? Is that you?”

All tha newsies gawk at me in disbelief, especially Spot.

“That’s Becca?”

“What she do’n dressed all proper-like?”

I don’t care what they say- I’s just happy Spot’s alive! He looks a little banged up, but alive!

“I missed you’s all so much-” Slap! 

“A young lady-” Pulitzer hisses.

“-uses proper grammar,” I finish stiffly. I feel so ashamed do’n this in front of everyone…

I hold my posture and say simply: “I missed you all very much-” Slap! What’d I do now?

“A young lady does not interact with those of lower status.” W-What?

“B-But-” Slap!

“A young lady speaks confidently, and does not stutter.”

Oh for God’s sake!

“But I will allow you to practice saying your goodbyes to these… gentleman, as it is the last time you will be seeing them.”

What?! Never see them again?! Can’t I just die now…?

By now I’m shake’n. I step up and address them all, but while look’n Spot straight in tha face. “I’m sorry, guys- agh!” Anodda slap. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I must inform you that I havta go- take my leave!” I flinch and fix myself quickly before Pulitzer can slap me again. “- and must say goodbye.” My lip trembles, and I’m hope’n my eyes still look strong. Spot’s still stare’n at me funny, so I finish: “Thank you all, for everything. I hope all the best for you, and that happiness follows you always.” I stiffly curtsy, walk back to Jack and take his arm, like a ‘lady.’ 

We then begin to walk through tha crowd with Pulitzer, and tha newsies are almost oudda sight when I hear: “Now Becca’s a scabber too!”

This sends me shake’n harda, and I try to make it look like I’m just cold- in August. For tha rest of tha day Pulitzer makes me introduce myself ‘properly’ to complete strangers, but all tha while I can’t get tha look of skepticism on Spot’s face oudda my head.

[babyspiderling]

VOTING TIME!!!

Alright y’all, I went to this restaurant in Denver, and they had these awesome old arcade games. (Dig Dug and pinball for the win!) I’ve got this 70/80′s au. Like with roller skates, pinball machine, and real dates. I just don’t know who to write it for! Let me know who you want and I’ll get to work!