#beth march x reader

[cauliflowertree]

baking with beth march.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ as long as you know how to bake, life is sure to be sweet. *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

It Was Worth It

March!reader x family (platonic!)

As you walked down to the kitchen to get some more water for Beth, you found yourself a little short of breath. You slowly sank down to sit on the staircase, running your hands across your face, as you took a shaky breath in and out. Beth was too sweet and good to be suffering so, and you had worked as hard as you could to help her get well again… even though the risk to you was great.

Meg and Jo thought that you had already had the scarlet fever, assuming that you and Jo being the same age, meant that you had the sickness at the same time. You knew that you had never had it, but said nothing. You wanted to help Beth like the others, help ease their burden until Marmee came home. It wasn’t long to wait now.

Placing a hand on your heart as you rose up from the stairs and continued down into the kitchen, you wondered if perhaps you were about to pay the price for staying. As you heard Hannah moving about, you stopped outside the door. Schooling your expression to ensure you looked well, you walked in and filled up the pitcher with water, turning around and rushing up the stairs again before Hannah could see how you really felt.

Beth was asleep as you placed the pitcher by her bedside. A sigh of relief escaped you. Despite everything, Beth might have noticed if you didn’t look well. Anxiously, you turned to look at Jo, who luckily had fallen asleep in the armchair. Smoothing down Beth’s blankets, you knelt down by her bed. Kneeling was soon tiring though, and so you leant your chin on your arms which were resting on the bed, and let yourself roll to the side to sit down on the floor.

After a while, your eyes began to droop. Holding your head up seemed so difficult now, and you let it drop down onto Beth’s blankets, one arm gently slipping off the bed and into your lap. Soon, your eyes fluttered shut and you lost the fight to keep them open.

A few hours passed by, as the three of you March siblings slept. Jo woke immediately on hearing Marmee talking to Meg outside the house, and she moved to check on Beth. She hadn’t noticed your red cheeks or your chest rising and falling rapidly, too focused on Beth to even suspect that you were not just sleeping.

“Jo!” Marmee called out, removing her gloves and handing them to Meg as she sat down on the edge of Beth’s bed to gently caress her. She then removed Beth’s blanket, which in turn partially obscured you from view, and asked Jo and Meg to grab her kit and some rags with water.

Stuck under the blanket, you grew even hotter, which caused you to start shaking. Marmee noticed the movement, and gently removed the blanket, thinking perhaps one of the cats was there. She gasped as it revealed your red face. “Y/N?” She called, as she moved to kneel by your side. Softly, she tried to shake you awake. You responded with a groan, but your eyes remained shut. You really didn’t feel so good anymore.

“Shh… Marmee’s here.” She soothed, as she reached to feel your forehead, and frowning as she felt how much you were burning up. Meg and Jo returned, looking in dismay at the scene before them. “Hannah!” Marmee called out, knowing that she’d need some help to get you safely into your own bed. “Meg, get the doctor. Jo, stay here with Beth.” Before she even finished her sentence Meg was making her way downstairs, and Jo had taken up her place beside Beth, opening Marmee’s forgotten kit to take care of her. “Oh, thank you Jo.” Marmee smiled slightly, as she gently pulled you away from the bed and cradled you in her arms as she waited for Hannah.

Between the two of them, they managed to get you into your bed beside Beth’s nicely. Hannah tried to pull the covers over you, but you quickly pushed them back down again. “No…no…” You murmured. It was so hot, you couldn’t stand it. Soon, you fell into a fitful sleep, not knowing the doctor had visited and informed everyone that you had caught the scarlet fever from Beth.

Passing by the March home on his way back to his own, Laurie frowned as he noticed the Doctor’s cart back outside. Immediately, Laurie rushed into the familiar house, shuddering at the tense and cold atmosphere inside compared to the joyous and warm place he loved so well. "Jo! Jo, is it Beth? Is she...?” Laurie asked, reaching out to your sister as he glanced upstairs. “No, Teddy. Beth is a little better... It’s Y/N.” Jo turned away from Laurie, not wanting him to see her lip quiver. “Y/N? They have the Scarlet Fever?” Laurie asked, shocked. He thought (like the others) you had already had it. “Can I... see them?” He asked, rocking back on his heels, his eyes not yet leaving the staircase. “Oh Teddy, I think that’s a capital idea! I think they’d love to see you.” Jo grabbed his sleeve to drag him upstairs, relieved at the suggestion.

“Oh, Y/N.” Laurie breathed, rushing over to you as you lay under the covers, shivering. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him, a smile coming to your face before you realised. “Laurie? You didn’t need to come.” You smile in spite of your words, your hand snaking up to your neck as it felt so scratchy. “I’m fine! Everyone is just overreacting.” As you said it, you wondered who you were trying to convince more; yourself, or your family. “You should be fussing over dear Beth, she’s much more important than a little cold.” You added, your voice rasping and losing volume with every word. Laurie and Jo exchanged an incredulous look, indicating they clearly didn’t believe you any more than you did. You decided to rest your eyes for a little bit, merely to conserve energy (of course). You felt their voices begin to muffle as you fell asleep again.

Unbeknownst to you, soon after this you began to worsen rapidly. The fever took you in it’s grip as you tossed side to side, moaning and twitching, uttering nonsensical words. One night you woke up to see, with blurry vision, Beth sat beside you, gently caressing your face with a cold, wet rag. Glancing over to the other side, there was Marmee, smoothing your bed linens. Noticing a hand on her shoulder, your eyes followed up the arm to find that Father was there. Knowing that you were safely surrounded by family, you felt you could let go and stop fighting.

Regaining partial consciousness as you felt the sharp sting of a cut in your arm as the Doctor returned to bleed you, you heard his muffled voice saying that it had made things worse and that the family should prepare themselves.

You continued to toss and turn in your rumpled sheets, noisily moaning when suddenly one early morning you were completely silent. Beth, who was sat watching you from her own bed, worried that the worst had happened and called desperately for Marmee. “No, no, no…” Your mother rushed to you, putting a hand on your head and the other on your chest. Frowning, she noticed the linens were soaking wet. Your fever had finally broken. You were okay. “It’s alright, Beth.” Marmee soothed your sister, as she made her way over to your bed. “Their fever’s broken, the worst is over.” Beth began to tear up, as she cried in relief, hugging Marmee as your mother began to sob in relief too. She had almost lost two of her children.

With all the commotion, suddenly Jo and Meg, as well as Hannah and your father, all came piling into the room to see what happened. When they saw you were going to be alright, everyone hugged each other in turns, thankful you had been strong enough to win the fight with the illness. Jo knelt by your side, brushing a wet strand of hair away from your damp face, before clasping your hand in her own, and bringing it to her lips to gently kiss it.

Laurie had heard the good news before breakfast, and they decided that he (alongside old Mr Laurence) would bring Amy home the next morning. When the following morning came, the Laurence family were greeted with much joy. Laurie smiled in relief to see the warm and happy nature of the March house had returned once again. Amy, naturally, ran up the stairs as fast as she could, rushing into your room to see you and Beth both sitting up in bed. You were significantly propped up on pillows in comparison to Beth, but the sweet beam of delight you gave on seeing your little sister made you seem completely recovered, if only for a moment.

“Amy! Come here,” you laughed, opening your arms wide to hug her as she clambered onto the bed, hugging both you and Beth until it became a cosy group hug. Noticing a shadow by the door, you turned your head and smiled. “Hello Laurie, Mr Laurence.” They glanced at each other before making their way into the room, grabbing your hands and squeezing in a show of support. “It’s good to see you well again, Y/N.” Laurie said, glancing over at the relieved faces of both Beth and Amy. “We have missed you, my dear.” Added Mr Laurence. “It was worth it,” you suddenly blurted out, as you turned to look at Beth and flung your arms around her. “It was all worth it for Beth.”

[imkittyjustkitty]

THIS MASTERLIST IS OLD AND OUTDATED, CHECK THE PINNED POST ON MY PROFILE FOR THE NEW ONES !!!!

Little Women Masterlist

— back to main masterlist

requesting rules — who i write for — what i will and won’t write

genres ;

Angst : 🌩️ Fluff : ⛅ Hurt/Comfort : 🌧️ Spicy : 🌡️

reader ;

fem!reader : 🌙 masc!reader : ☀️ gn!reader : ⭐ other/neopronouns : ☄️

extra categories ;

Pride 2022 : 🌈 pride 2022 masterlist can be found here

Jo March

(prompt: love letter) Your Love Like No Other — ⛅⭐🌈

You're in love with Jo March, and really, how could you not be? She feels like home.

Amy March

Sleepover — ⛅⭐🌈

Just fluffy first kiss with Amy March <3

Meg March

. . . nothing here yet , feel free to request !

Beth March

. . . nothing here yet , feel free to request !

Theodore 'Laurie' Laurence

. . . nothing here yet , feel free to request !

[stuismybf]

10 things i hate about you masterlist

last updated: 3/28/23

patrick v.

- thoughts that control me

[dontcryshopgirl152]

Your Husband Jo

Josephine "Jo" March x Fem!Reader

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. You and Jo are both back home for the summer after getting engaged and married, respectively, and your midnight rendezvous will end with a different kind of union. (2.9K Words)

Notes: Hello! Apologies in advance for any inaccuracies, I'm a very casual fan of Little Woman but a very serious fan of actual women.

This is my first fic, and I hope you enjoy it! This is fun writing practice for me after a long hiatus from the craft, and just a fun way to be more chill with sexuality, so please don't take it super seriously. If you did like it, let me know, I'd love to make more writing friends!

Warnings: Sex! Fingering, scissoring. Some angst (given the whole engaged/married situation, but very light and not mentioned much).

For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. She was the star you perpetually orbited around, no matter how long you’d been away or how many other dazzling women you met. There was something intoxicating about the way she held a pen, a fork, hell, even a handkerchief; she was so sure of herself. She let herself be clumsy and strong and ungraceful, and she did it all with such confidence.

Over the years, the two of you had become close friends, bonding over a shared love of theatre and long walks and hating the small town you were both stuck in. Living a few doors down didn’t hurt, either; sneaking out at night was easy in the warm summer months, and you had spent many clear nights down by the creek, laying elbow to elbow watching the night sky slowly spin past above you.

She would lay her head on your stomach sometimes when her neck hurt from being bent over her desk too long, and it took everything in you to keep your breathing normal when her cheek rested on the soft, thin cotton of your nightgown. Every once in a while, she would fall asleep there, her head drifting to the side, breath blowing gently up into the curve of your breasts, and your heart would flip in your chest.

Those girlhood summers came and went, and now you found yourself home for a new kind of summer. You had met your fiance while traveling to New York for a visit to your uncle, and he was a kind and gentle man, and soft-spoken, and he adored you. But you’d scarcely gotten to know him before your family deemed it a suitable match and sent you home to prepare, brushing up on all of your wifely duties.

It was on a trip to the post office to send a letter to your betrothed that you see her again. Stepping down from a carriage, blinking into the blinding Massachusetts sun, hand shielding her eyes. The woman’s skirt catches on the step of the carriage, and she has to turn and bend down to free it, revealing a flash of bare skin. You stop in your tracks; Jo never wears stockings, no matter how much her mother harps on her to be proper. She rights herself quickly and turns towards where you stand transfixed. She gasps a little and her face breaks into a wide grin.

“Y/N!” she shouts, dropping the small bag she has been clutching and running towards you at full speed. You drop your envelopes and meet her in a crashing hug. She lifts you easily and spins you around, laughing. When she sets you down, she leans back to meet your gaze.

“It’s been so long, I didn’t expect to see you home this summer. What are you doing here?”

You were just as surprised. Last you’d heard, Jo had married some German professor after moving to the city, and that was three years ago.

“I’m to brush up on house-wife duties before I…” you trail off. You don’t want to tell her you are engaged, it feels wrong for some reason.

Her smile falters a bit. “You are engaged to be married?” You nod.

“That’s marvelous, Y/N!” she grins again, but this time a little too wide, her voice going up a bit too high. “You must let me walk with you later so you can tell me all about it!”

You nod in agreement, then see a man approaching from behind where Jo stands. Tall and lanky, he reaches her silently and simply places a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, Y/N, my deepest apologies, this is Friedrich Bhaer, my, uh, husband.”

He lifts up a hand to remove his hat, but his gaze never leaves Jo’s shoulder. He swiftly returns his hand to his jacket pocket and looks at Jo expectantly.

“We really must be off, but may I see you later? We can go to our old spot.” Jo meets your gaze again, something wild in her eyes, and you nod.

“Of course, Jo, that sounds wonderful.”

She clasps your hand tightly with her own, and then she is gone.

…

For reasons you can’t fully explain, you find yourself sneaking out when night falls, and your feet lead you to your and Jo’s old spot. Three quarters of a mile into the forest, there is an old, hollow fallen tree that lays beside a quieter stretch of the creek. It is here that you would abscond with old rags and candle stubs as girls, creating a little house in the shelter of the old fir. You would read poems and tidy the fallen branches that fell around the base of the tree, pretending to prepare for company, cook meals, and lounge by an imaginary fire. Now, you sit inside the empty shell and sigh. It’s a clear, warm night, and everything feels hazy and stretched to infinity. You had tried to sleep earlier, but an hour, then two had passed and your eyes still did not grow tired.

You had tried to imagine what being married to your future husband would be like, but it frightened you. You were afraid of exposing yourself to him, having him make love to you. You had heard it was painful from cousins and friends, in hushed conversations overheard around clothing lines and kitchens after dark. You had kissed a boy when you were small and remember it being underwhelming. You thought back to the summers here at the tree, how Jo would gaze up at you from where she lay on your stomach, fingertips dancing over your legs, how your hands would tremble, mouth becoming dry.

You remembered the summer before she left for New York, the last night you shared here at your spot. How she bent her head to your forehead, placing a kiss there. How her hands found the hem of your skirt, gently lifting it up, exposing your legs to the late autumn air.

“I will be your husband tonight,” she had whispered, slipping two fingers into your waiting mouth. You had sucked gently, and those same fingers had guided you to gasping.

Lost in the memory, your hand wanders to your breast, squeezing gently, hoping to replicate the feeling of that night. You had tried so many times since, but couldn't make yourself gasp the way she had that night. You close your eyes and try to remember what she had smelled like, the way the ends of her hair had felt just barely touching your arms.

You jolt out of your reverie when you hear a twig snap a few feet away. You shrink back into the tree with a start, your hands flying away from yourself. Who could have seen you leave? The whole house was fast asleep when you padded out the door. And no one knows where this spot is, it’s off the path and well-hidden by branches.

Suddenly, Jo’s face appears in the opening of the tree. “I thought I might find you here!”

You gasp a little, nervously. “How did you know I would be here?”

She crawls into the tree, her knees scraping along the forest floor to fit inside. “Just a hunch.”

Her hair has fallen out of its braid and flows down her back. She wears a thin chemise and long, flowing skirt, thinning at the hem from wear and tear. You notice with a start that you can see her nipples poking up gently beneath her shirt, and swallow to see their pert attention. You had seen her like this before, but not in years. You bring your gaze back up to her face and she is gazing at you, that same wild look in her eyes as before.

“You’re engaged,” she repeats her earlier question again, softly, sadly. You just nod. “Do you love him?”

You realize you’re holding your breath and let it go shakily. Jo reaches out to grasp your arms, gently but firmly, with all the strength of her lean frame. You jolt a little under her touch, and realize that despite the warm summer evening, you’re shivering a bit.

“I…I do not know,” you concede, eyes flashing down to study the leaf strewn floor. Her grip tightens, nose flaring as she breathes in hard. You have scarcely seen her like this before, she seems nervous and on edge.

“Y/N…” she begins, biting her lip. She rocks forward a bit, seeming to become unbalanced, and you grasp her biceps to help hold her up. She sucks in a breath and you meet her gaze again.

Before you know what is happening, she is leaning in and crashing the soft pink of her mouth against your lips. You gasp a little and fall back into the wall of the tree, and she follows you, pinning you there by your elbows. It takes you a moment to process that Jo March, the woman you have been in love with since you knew what love was, is kissing you. And you are kissing her back, your body seeming to move of its own accord. She lifts her hands from your arms to your face, cradling your jaw in one hand and pulling you deeper into the kiss with the other, tangling it in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands fall to her waist and you feel her suck in her stomach at your touch. One of your hands sits just below the hem of her shirt, and you feel the skin of her lower back there, beneath your fingertips. It’s warm and soft and feels electric. Everywhere your skin touches hers is on fire.

She deepens the kiss, pushing her tongue into your mouth, and you grip her tighter, your other hand coming up from her skirted hip to her back, pushing her shirt up an inch higher. She sighs and eases one hand down your neck to the small of your back, and you arch into her at the sensation. She holds you fast and pivots the two of you sloppily to lay you down on the soft leaves below, notching one knee in between your legs and one to the left of your hip. You grunt as you hit the ground and she pulls her face away for a moment.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, her eyebrow knit in concern. She is breathing hard, her face flushed. You smile a bit, dazed.

“No,” you answer, ‘I’m fine.”

“Good.” she sighs. You glance down at her chest again and see her nipples, now straining a bit at the fabric. You realize you’ve bunched it in your hand behind her. You start to loosen your grip, but get a better idea and let your hands wander from her back around to her breasts under the shirt. She realizes what you’re doing and her mouth falls open a bit. She fumbles to remove her shirt but soon her torso is set free, and you watch as her breasts become exposed to the moonlight.

They look so soft, like fallen snow still untouched after drifting into smooth heaps across the fields. Her nipples are starkly darker, and look like small hardened pebbles in this light. She shivers a little at your initial touch, but seems to melt a little into your hands as you work at her breasts, rolling her nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. This elicits a small whimper from her, and you raise your eyes to meet her. She is panting a little now, her mouth still hanging open a little. You look back to her breasts and roll her nipple again with your left hand, more slowly this time. She lets out a low moan and dips her head a bit towards you, eyes closed. You remove your hand and she whimpers, only to gasp when your teeth close around the spot your fingers had occupied. You suck on her and she leans into you, chest heaving beneath your mouth.

“Y/N,” she gasps, a hand shooting up to grasp the nape of your neck and pull you closer. You lavish your tongue on her nipple and use your other hand to massage her other breast, and you can feel her shaking a bit. You pull your face away and look into her eyes again, now just a few inches from your own.

“Be my husband,” you gasp.

In answer, she starts peppering kisses down your neck, slipping the buttons of your nightgown open to reveal your own breasts, already heaving from before she had arrived. She sucks a harsh kiss into the space just below the curve of one, and you suck in a hot breath. She pulls you up to remove the nightgown from your arms and keeps kissing you, warming your skin with her mouth. Your stomach is upside down, and there is a heat in the pit of your core that you know well. You are sure there is a spot on your nightgown where your arousal is pooling beneath you.

“Jo,” you moan, winding your fingers into her hair. “Please, I am begging you.”

She stops and leans back, breasts heaving, hair wild. She reaches a hand up to your lips and you open your mouth to her fingers, two sliding in easily. You loll your tongue around them, sucking gently, and she moans again. She pulls out her fingers with a soft pop and lowers her hand to your stomach, pulling up your nightgown with the other hand to reveal your thighs and now dripping pussy. She grins wickedly.

“My, my, dear wife,” she coos. “What is this?”

You groan at the title. “Please husband,” you pant. “Please, I need you.”

She teases your folds a little. Her spit-soaked fingertips have grown cold in the air, and you shudder and gasp as they meet your hot center. She slips one finger in, then another, up to the second knuckle easily before curling them a bit inside you. You cry out and she smiles again.

“Yes, dear wife, let your husband take care of you,” she whispers huskily. She is thrusting into you now, gently but with a quick rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of her hand going in and out. It sounds like heaven. You close your eyes and let the feeling wash over you. Jo March is making love to you. Jo March called you her wife. Jo March-

She stops for a moment and you groan in frustration, but the feeling is quickly replaced with fresh arousal as you feel her breath on your clit. She licks you a little, gently, experimentally, and the sound that comes out of you is embarrassingly needy. You slap a hand over your mouth and she looks up at you, a small smile on her face.

“My darling, do not worry,” she says, gently, licking you again. You groan once more, and she meets your gaze. “No one can hear you when you are safe in my bed, dear wife. Let yourself feel my love for you.”

She kisses your clit and begins moving her fingers within you again. You suck in air, but it is never enough, as the fire within you consumes it instantly. You find yourself arching into her touch, words leaving your mouth in an endless stream you have no awareness of as she hurries her hand inside you.

“Oh god, Jo, I love you, Jo, Jo, please, I need-”

“Call me your husband,” Jo hoarsely utters as she sucks in a breath.

“Husband, please, I am going to-oh god.”

She pulls her fingers nearly out of you and adds a third, stretching you. You whine and a sob comes out, the sensation of it overtaking you. Her hand within you is going so quickly you feel you might faint, your heart is pounding in your head. A great light explodes inside of you and you hear yourself cry out, even louder.

She never stops her motion, locking her lips around your clit and sucking while her hands work at you from the inside out. You feel yourself clenching around her and she hums contentedly, making sparks dance behind your eyes. Warmth spills out of you around her hand and you whimper, head swimming. She whispers into your clit in between licks, coaxing your cum out of you as you grasp at her hair, her shoulders, anything to keep you grounded.

As your orgasm subsides, she smiles and leans back, slowing her hand but not removing it. You take a shaky breath and open your eyes, blinking up into the starlight.

She leans up to kiss you gently and removes her hand, relishing the small whine that escapes your lips.

“Jo-” you start, then break off into a small sob. “I cannot marry that man.”

“Don’t worry, my dear wife,” she whispers, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “I will take care of everything.” She leans in and kisses your forehead, then pulls up and cradles you into her. You nestle into her chest, breathing in the scent of her skin mixed with your arousal, floating on the humid air. Your breathing slows as you listen to her heartbeat, the sound of the creek bubbling past, and the soft owl hoots in the distance. You feel safe here in her arms.

She strokes your head gently, whispering how much she has missed you in your ear, how every night she dreamed of coming back to this place and reuniting with you. You sigh contentedly and wish you could stay in this moment forever, soothed to restful sleep by the voice of your husband Jo March.

[ginnyluvstimmy]

sorry not sorry! :]

(pt. 1 on my account)

[eternalslover]

I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WRITE FOR THIS MAN RIGHT HERE

PLEASE I NEED SOME 1994 LAURIE WRITING PLEASE

AND IDC WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT HIM

ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT, HEADCANONS, BLURBS, DRABBLES, IMAGINES ECT

PLEASE I JUST NEED SOMETHING

I AM FEEDING ON CRUMBS AT THE MOMENT PLEASEEE

ALSO, I JUST NEED PEOPLE TO START WRITING FOR 1994 LITTLE WOMEN IN GENERAL

CAUSE LIKE- WHERE IS ALL THE STUFF FOR 1994 BETH?!?!

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

Only for You to Hold

Summary: Amy locks herself in her art studio after her insecurity gets the best of her.

Pairings: Laurie Laurence x Amy March

Warnings: Insecurity, Jealous, Angst with a Sweet Ending

Requested: @amylxxry Dialogue Prompt 2.10, "Don't shut me out."

Amy didn't know how it even happened.

She'd been enjoying the afternoon with her family, Daisy was sitting next to her as she attempted to show her how to draw her namesake. Meg and John were in deep discussion with her parents. Beth was sitting at the piano playing a sweet, little melody that Laurie had brought over for her.

It wasn't until she looked over at her beloved husband and saw him laughing with her sister that the familiar loneliness that she'd experienced as a child reappeared. She was so tired of feeling like an outsider or the excess to their relationship. When she looked at them, she saw how happy they were together and remembered that Jo would always be Laurie's first choice. Amy's hands shook as she attempted to keep her composure.

She'd managed to keep everyone fooled through their departure that was full of well-wishes and hugs. It had been late when they'd returned and Laurie had gone straight to bed. No, it wasn't until Laurie mentioned that he was going over to help Jo at the school over breakfast that Amy felt her walls begin to crack.

Looking at him, she realized that he must not even realize the way that he talks about her, full of nostalgia and wistfulness. Amy forced her lips together in a tight line as she stood from the table.

"Excuse me," she said toward the two men in front of her, "I have a project I'd like to get started on."

She didn't wait for a response before she rushed toward her safe space. The art room was something that Laurie had insisted that she do when she moved into the house. It was decorated by her, designed for her own personal use, and her private room.

Crossing the threshold, she turned the lock that she'd put on the door. The two Laurence men had a tendancy to walk in unannounced while she was painting and cause her to jump, the lock had been the solution.

Amy leaned against the deep windowill, bracing herself on her arms as she rested her head against the window. She let out a shuddered breath as the tears began to fall, unwelcome, down her cheeks.

The door vibrated with a soft knock and Laurie's voice was gentle, "Amy?"

She muffled a sob with her hand, "Yes?"

Her eyes squeezed shut as her voice broke at the end of the word. It was a dead give-away to her husband who immediately tried to twist the door knob.

"Amy, please let me in," Laurie's voice asked.

She shook her head. The insecurity had a tight-grip around her heart and she didn't have the energy to fight for it back.

"Shouldn't you be leaving? I'm sure Jo is waiting for you," her voice came out hard and bitter.

The air stilled into complete silence as her words reached his ears. "Amy," Laurie's voice sounded broken, "Where is that coming from?"

"It doesn't even matter," she muttered. She'd walked from the window to the door. It's brown wood taunting her with the knowledge of the world that was on the other side.

"It does matter! It matters to me. Would you open the door, please? I'd like to have this conversation and be able to see your face at the same time."

Amy didn't even respond. She couldn't, not as her body shook with sobs at the knowledge of being second to her sister in her husband's eyes. It was unbarable.

"Amy, please-" Laurie was cut off as one of her cries came out slightly louder than she'd intended.

A soft thud vibrated through the door as Laurie rested his head against it, "Please, don't shut me out."

They both stayed quiet, the silence only broken by the sound of Amy's muffled sobs. Amy jumped at the sound of a hard thud against the door. It bounced as if hit by something hard.

It only took a few seconds for it to happen again and a few seconds more for Amy to realize what was happening.

"Laurie?" She questioned.

"I absolutely refuse to be stuck on this side of the door while my heart is breaking on the other side. Either you come open this door or I'm breaking it," his voice resolute.

She paused in shock and in that pause another hard thump sounded against the door. More shocked than anything else, Amy hurried to the door and turned the lock. The door opened the second the lock retreated from it's secured position.

Amy didn't have time to breathe before Laurie's arms were wrapped around her tightly and his mouth was resting on her head. His warmth brought a fresh set of tears and Amy turned her head so that she was crying into his shoulder, hidden from his view.

"My Love, how could you be as silly as to think that I'd rather be with Jo?" Laurie mumbled into her hair.

"You were so vibrant around her yesterday. She was your first choice, Laurie! How could I ever compare to your first love?" She spoke into his chest, her voice muffled by the fabric and thick with her tears.

Laurie was rubbing her back soothingly, "You can't compare to my first love."

She froze, so she was right all along. She fought to release herself from him but he pulled her closer to him.

"My Lady, you can't compare because you are my first love. What I thought was love with Jo is something that I can now recognize as nothing more than brotherly fondness. I recognize the difference because you taught me what love is, with your passionate opinions and very, tiny feet." Laurie pressed a small kiss to her hair.

"Jo's never had my heart, Amy. It's only ever been there for you to hold," his words and his soothing motions eased the ache in her.

She pulled her face from his shoulder and tilted it up to look at him. His face twisted into a devastated expression when he saw her flushed face still cloudy with tears.

"How can you be sure?" She asked him.

His eyes softened and he reached up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "It's quite simple, I couldn't love anyone else as completely as I love you."

[girlgenius1111]

you can't keep secrets from us

arsenal wfc x reader

more of a blurb because i'm tireeeed.

r has a secret girlfriend. the team finds out, and they are NOT pleased.

-----

You didn't know the hickey was there, truly. You would have to be stupid to knowingly go into the locker room and change in front of your teammates with a hickey on your chest. Anyone would have been made fun of but you? It would be 1000x worse if it was you. You had been with the team for years, since you were 16. Now, you were 19, yet everyone still treated you like the kid you'd been when you'd arrived.

The moment Katie's eyes fell to your upper chest, voice fading out, and you looked down to see what she was staring at, you knew you were fucked. You were thought briefly of throwing a shirt on and taking off out of the locker room, but then everyone would just chase you, and it would be even worse. So, you stood silently, wincing as Katie's loud, loud voice filled the room.

"What is THAT," she shouted, and the locker room went silent around you.

"What's what?" Beth asks, spinning you around. Her jaw drops. You don't blame her; it's ridiculously large, and you make a mental note to scold your girlfriend when you get home. "Who did that to you!" Beth shrieks, and you cover your face with your hands, feeling blood rush to your cheeks.

"You are too young for hickeys, too young for sex," Leah begins, marching over to glare at you from a shorter distance.

"Guys, I don't need a lecture," you say pathetically, bringing your shirt up to cover the mark.

"Well maybe if you hadn't come into the locker room with the worlds biggest hickey," Katie muttered.

"Was it a one night stand?" Alessia asked, and you shoot her a glare. She only smirks mischievously in return. As one of the younger girls, you'd have hoped she would have your back.

"Yeah, y/n, you pick someone up at a bar?" Kyra calls, and you resist the urge to throw something at her. There is a strict no-throwing-things-at-Kyra rule, one that everyone has to fight hard not to break, every day. She just really bring it out in everyone.

You pull your shirt on, finally, but you're boxed in at your locker, surrounded completely by Beth, Leah, Katie, and a silent yet nauseated looking Steph. Steph was your only hope, the only one who you believed could really reign in the others' teasing. You looked pleadingly at her. Just as you're sure Steph is going to tell everyone to leave you alone, Viv speaks up.

"Maybe she has a girlfriend?" She placates. The look on her face tells you she thinks she's being helpful, but her words make the locker room go quiet once again.

"No, no way. She would have told us if she had a girlfriend." Leah scoffs, before her eyes widen at the look on your face. You're completely caught out, and you know it.

The 4 girls surrounding you let out a collective gasp, and Katie drops onto the bench dramatically. Caitlin places her hands on her shoulders, and sighs as if she's just found out she lost a loved one.

"I think I might pass out," Katie says, leaning into Caitlin.

"We'll get through this together, as a team," Caitlin declares.

You roll your eyes at their dramatics, but Steph's hands are on your shoulders, and you're no longer hoping she'll protect you. Instead, you're beginning to think you need to be protected from her.

"Tell me you don't have a secret girlfriend," Steph begs.

"I don't have a secret girlfriend," you say automatically and Leah wacks the back of your head. "Okay okay! She's not a secret girlfriend, I just hadn't mentioned her yet," you say, and the room goes into an uproar. Everyone is asking questions over each other, and you couldn't possibly answer them all.

"Who is she?"

"Are you being safe?"

"What's her name? First AND last!"

"What does she look like?"

"How old is she?"

"What does she do?"

The onslaught of questions is interrupted, thankfully, by Kim and Lia walking into the room. They'd been talking to Jonas, and they'd left the locker room in relative calmness, which is not what they returned to.

"QUIET!" Kim yells, once again bringing silence.

"What is happening?" Lia asks, looking worried.

"SOMEONE has a secret girlfriend, and showed up with a huge hickey on her chest." Leah responded automatically, and you sigh. You shouldn't have come today. You shouldn't have even gotten out of bed.

Lia and Kim look at you in disbelief. Then, Kim goes to the door, and shuts it. They both turn to you.

"How could you keep this from us?" Lia asks incredulously. You groan, looking at Kim as your last hope.

"Can we meet her?" she asks, lips tugging into a grin. The captain has spoken, evidently, and now everyone is grabbing for your phone, and the questions resume.

You groan, sitting down heavily on the bench.

"ALRIGHT. One question at a time."

Surprisingly, it's Kyra's voice that breaks through first. "Is that why you kicked me out last night? So you and your secret girlfriend would have time to fu-"

"KYRA" you shout, interrupting her. She smiles innocently at you, and now the whole room just looks disgusted. Leah raises her hand next, a stern expression on her face that you recognize as the face she makes when arguing with refs. You point to her, gesturing for her to speak.

"I have 5 questions. Should I ask them all together, or one at a time?"

It was going to be a long day.

-----

[repulsiveliquidation]

Chosen Family

Leah Williamson x Reader x Arsenal Women.

word count : 2.8k

this was meant to be a blurb but oh well

warnings : mentions of death, swearing, it's kinda sweet...?

“While we have valued your skill addition to the team, we cannot find any reason to retain you and that it why we are terminating your contract, effective immediately; other teams will bid for your purchase by the end of the month.”

That was the last thing that you heard until you stopped listening. The room began to feel small. It was spinning, your head just immediately began to throb. Combined with the need to throw up was the cherry on top. You blinked at your agent, who was stone-faced but determined to fight for you, in a plea to let you leave. He nodded and leaned in to talk to you. “Go, kiddo. Find the girls, I’ll sort this out.”

You scramble out of the room, not caring what the board thinks. You run; fast. Tears are cascading down your face, hot and frustrated ones. Your legs knew where to run, where to find your beloved girls.

//

19 and fresh out of your first senior Lionesses call up, was a day you didn’t think would come. You were on the plane back home from the 2023 World Cup a little gloomy; a text from Leah changed the whole day around for you. It was a simple one, curt and just what you expected from the North London girl.

“Welcome to Arsenal.”

You were playing for Brighton Albion right now, while you loved it there, Arsenal was your well-known dream. Going through the academy was the best thing that ever happened to you but when you didn’t get moved up to the first team and instead bought by Brighton, you immediately made it known that if ever they were interested, you’d even transfer for free (your agent did NOT like that.)

The girls cheered and clapped, celebrations were in order for the youngest Lioness. They popped champagne (you sneaked a flute, Alessia winked at you), food was eaten with more enthusiasm.

When you stepped on that pitch for the first time as part of the First Team, you cried. Leah made fun of you for a week but you didn’t care. Your dream was now your reality. You made it. Your parents passed away when you were 14 from a car accident, they were both die hard Arsenal fans, it was your fathers dream to see you in an Arsenal shirt with your last name on the back. You were at this facility that day, that day was the hardest day of your life. Today came a close second.

//

“I’m sorry daddy.” You whisper, fresh tears pricking in your eyes. You push open the changing room door and walk in, the girls immediately quieten down when they see your tear-stained face.

“You’ve only been gone a half hour, you miss us that much?” Leah jumps up enthusiastically and walks over to you to pull you into the changing room.

“Leah, shut up. What’s wrong, kleintje?” Viv asks, pulling you into her arms. Everyone’s mood changes when they realize they’re sad tears.

“They’re getting rid of me.” You say quietly, muffled into Viv’s chest. She kisses the top of your head, rare affection from the Dutchwoman, before pulling your head away from her chest.

“Say again for me love?”

“They’re selling me, they fired me.”

“They can’t do that.”

“They just did.”

You’re crying again, now passed to Beth’s arms as Viv, Leah, Alessia, Katie, Lotte and Stina begin to march out of the room angrily. You beg them not to, crumbling to your knees.

“Please, you shouldn't have to fight for me. They’re just throwing me away…I-I thought I was good enough to b-be on the team! Like a fucking whore, sold to the highest bidder!” you’re heaving, their eyes soften and they rush to you; Leah getting to you first. She kneels before you and pulls you into her arms, cradling your crying head against her chest.

“Hey, stop that. They’re not selling you, we will make sure of it. They can’t, not like this.”

“What if you can’t? What if you can’t stop them?”

“We never play football again, darling. It’s that simple.” Piped in Alessia, anger seething behind her eyes.

“I couldn’t make you all do that.”

“Watch us. Every single one of us. I might bleed North London but no one treats my family this way. You’re our baby, no one messes with this family.” Leah said, everyone in the room nodding their heads in agreement.

“What did your agent say, darlin’?” asked Katie, coming up beside you to rub your back just as your agent walked in.

“You can ask him.”

“Cut the shit, Tony. What did they say?” Leah pounced on him, he only shook his head slowly.

“I told them that the transfer window was long closed. Turns out that that doesn’t really matter when you fire a player; they’re just sold like any other player that can be sold. I know you girls are mad for her; please don’t do anything stupid like all quit football altogether.”

“How the hell did you figure that out?”

“I’m an agent for a reason. I’m also her guardian, I know you lot well enough to know you’d do something like that for my Y/N.”

“Why the fuck are they selling our best forward then?”

“I don’t know. I’ll be damned if I don’t find out.” He walked over to you, the girls help you stand.

“I will not stop until I find out why, kiddo. I promised your father I would take care of you, I intend to do that. Do you trust me?”

“With my life, Tones.”

“Atta girl, I know you’ll be in good hands with these girls. I’m sorry, but training will have to be at home till I can find out why you’re out of a fucking job. I love you, Martha wants you over for dinner on Saturday; bring her some of your cookies will you? You lot are invited if you’re interested.” he kisses your forehead and walks out of the room, already calling people on the phone.

“Come on baby, let’s get you home.” Beth cooed, Viv immediately grabbing all your things from your cubby. 

“Pack her a bag and take her to mine, she stays with me till this is over.” Leah tells the two, they nod and usher you out before you can make any form of protest.

The drive to your apartment was a quiet one, Beth sat in the back with you while Viv drove. You could tell she was mad, her jaw clenched as she was mumbling under her breath. You reached over an arm and grasped her shoulder, she visibly relaxed and looked at you through the rear-view mirror.

“We’ll figure this out, lieveling. Don’t you worry.”

//

Arsenal Women look to sell Y/N L/N to the highest bidder in a sudden dropping of her from the squad. Teams like Manchester United and Bayern Munich are among those highly interested in the prodigy forward from North London.

//

“Hi angel, the guest room is all set for ya. You’re welcome in my bed if you’d rather; fair warning, I am a snorer.” Leah winked at you, helping you take your bags into the house.

“I know you do, Kiera told me at camp one time.”

“That sneaky woman. I’ll be having a word with her, pet. Come on in, make yourself at home. The rest of the girls are on the balcony, they really invited themselves over you know; how rude, coming into our home like that!”

Our home, she said. You really didn’t need to worry with these girls, they’ve got your back.

//

Leah had to drag you to training although technically you couldn’t participate. It made your heart ache, being there but not being able to play. Jonas shot you a sorry look, allowing you to steal a football and kick it around on your own. The girls were all feeling sorry for you, one of them always coming over to check on you each hour.

Lotte walked over after their 6 a side scrimmage, spraying you with her water bottle before you shot up and chased her around the pitch.

You finally caught her, cursing her long legs. She merely side hugged you, kissing your warm, sweaty forehead.

“That take your mind off things for a bit, little bit?” she asked, her choice in nickname made you smile.

“It did, thanks Lotte.” You lean into her and say, both of you watching Katie spray her water bottle at Beth and before you knew it everyone was doing the same. It made you heartily laugh, all the girls more than happy to get their shirts soaked if it meant little bit was smiling for just a little bit.

//

“I’m afraid I can’t let you in here, Ms. L/N.”

“She’s with me, Ben.”

“I’m sorry Leah, she can’t be on the training pitch. Boss’ orders.”

“Well, she’s coming with me and we’re going to see about that. Come, Y/N.”

You trail behind Leah as she walks with determination to Jonas’ office. He’s in a meeting, she simply does not care.

“I’d like to know why she can’t come to the training ground and whose idea was it to do so.”

“It came from upstairs Leah, it was on my table this morning. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t even try to do anything about it? She’s still a part of this team!”

“I’m sorry Leah, she isn’t. She can’t be here.”

“Go downstairs and put your boots on, Y/N. Un-FUCKING-believable.”

“Leah, I’ll just get an Uber and g­–”

“I said, go downstairs and put your fucking boots on. Now.”

You walk out of the room and do as she says. She comes back out to the pitch 20 minutes later with huge smile on her face, winking at you.

“All sorted darling, nothing to worry about. Sorry if I scared you.”

You run and hug her, she merely smiles wider and kisses your head.

“Thank you Leah,” you whisper, only meant for her to hear.

“Anything for you, my love.”

//

“What are we feeling for dinner, darling?” Beth called as you were sitting in their living room playing Fifa.

“I don’t care, but a pizza sounds fucking delicious right now.”

“Language! Leah is a horrendous influence on you. Sausage and banana peppers?”

“Sorry, mum. Yes please.”

Beth walked in and rolled her eyes, picking up the takeaway menu stack near the tv.

“What is this that I hear that I’m a bad influence?”

“Leah!” you yelled, jumping up from the couch and jumping into her arms. You had grown quite attached to the older woman, her fierce protective nature from the start of your journey of international football along with the move to Arsenal had made you fall in love with her. It was a secret you were willing to take to the grave if you got to enjoy her and not risk losing her.

It had more to do with the age gap, it wasn’t monstrously large but it would turn heads either way with you being a teenager still. You turn twenty in less than a week anyway, maybe if you could muster up the courage you’d tell her.

“Hello, pea. Beth bullying ya?”

“No, she said my swearing is because of you. But we’re getting pizza!”

“That sounds lovely, angel. I love pizza, pizza loves me. Wanna see if you can beat me at a game while we wait?” she says, pointing to the paused football match on the tv.

“What’s in it for me?” you tell her cheekily, grabbing a second controller for her.

“You’ll have to beat me to find out, doll.”

Viv walked in, standing with Beth as they watched the two of you playing.

“So, who’s gonna tell them?” Viv asks bluntly.

“They’re right knobheads the pair of them. It could be written on their foreheads and they’d miss it.”

//

You were more than happy to have a little cake and a song for your birthday. Years without parents who died around your birthday made it a sore subject. Tony and Martha made it better though, both of them really did try their best to make sure you were well cared for and for that you were forever grateful. No one texted you all day though, you’ll be honest, it made you a little sadder. You were just about order some takeout when Leah walked into the house with balloons, cake, the girls, and much more. Katie led the chorus for ‘Happy Birthday’ so offkey you were sure your ears were genuinely bleeding. She pulled a party hat on your head and kissed your forehead, holding your face in her hands and she whispered, “Happy Birthday, little bit.”

You were crying, touched by their kind gesture. Only Leah knew the extent of why birthdays were a little sore for you, a proud smile on her face as the rest of the girls busied themselves with laying out the food and putting the decorations up. She smiled at you, eyes full of love like you were the only one in the room.

She walked up to you with the cake as Stina lit the candle, her bright smile on her face.

“Make a wish, pretty girl.” She said, you closed your eyes and made your wish. You blew out the candle; the cake was handed off to Viv.  

She pulled you into her arms, kissing your nose. She had that same look of pure adoration on her face; you were scared of asking the question itching on the tip of your tongue. Luckily, Leah asked it for you.

“Happy birthday, special girl. Can I take you out on a date sometime?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to ask you that.”

“No time like the present, kiddo.”

She leaned in and kissed you softly, your lips molding perfectly to hers. The room cheered loudly, Beth yelling at the top of her lungs while Viv looked like a proud parent.

//

“Did your uncle ever mention that he was suing the guy who got into that accident with your parents?”

“No, I thought they didn’t know who it was.”

“Well, they do. He knows you too.”

“How the hell could he know me.”

“He’s the scumbag who hired you then fired you.”

“What are you saying, Tones?”

“When the lawsuit came in and the names were revealed he realized that someone leaked the information he tried so hard to keep buried and your name was in there. He thought you figured it out and were coming after him through your uncle. So, he fired you. Probably thought that would send a clear message that he could ruin you.”

“Tony, this is a lot to take in.”

“I know, kid. You leave it to me, you hear? Especially leave your new girlfriend out of it. She’s great but fucking scary.”

“Tony, it’s on speaker!”

“I know where you sleep Tony.” Leah supplied happily.

“Shit. Please kid, between the two of you only yeah? I love you.”

“I love you too, Tones. Send Martha my love.”

“Sure thing. Be safe, please?”

Click.

“What the hell am I going to do, Lee?”

“We’re gonna fight baby. Every single one of us. We got ya.”

“Tony literally just told you, you couldn’t kill the guy.”

“I will if I have to, you’re my girl now. You’ve always been my girl but now circumstances have changed. I know a guy who knows a guy; I’ll do it with my bare hands if I had to.”

“Tony was right, you are mad scary.”

//

Arsenal Board member sentenced to 10 years in prison for countless charges. The Plaintiff, Y/N L/N was rewarded with an undisclosed settlement for damages that caused the death of her parents 6 years ago, which turned out to be a massive coverup. Her position as forward on the Arsenal Women’s team had been reinstated effective immediately.

//

“We did it, little bit.” Lotte hugged you, the rest of the girls filtering into your home. Okay, it was Leah’s and she did just ask you to move in with her but it was nice to have someone to share a home with.

“I’m so proud of you, kid.” said Katie.

“You’re stronger than you look, Y/N/N.” said Stina.

“I have pictures of you on the stand!” said Alessia.

Their words were drowned out by the sound of a certain blonde and blue eyed, Milton Keynes accented, Lioness captain that was praising you.

“You did perfectly today, pea.”

“Thanks Lee. I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.” You turn and face all the girls and continue.

“Without you all, I don’t think I would have been able to get through the past few weeks. You’ve all shown me what real family looks like and I can’t thank you enough. I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” You were crying, wiping away tears before Alessia yelled “Group hug!” and you were wrapped up in many arms.

Once they let go, Leah came up behind you and kissed your cheek. You lean back into her, rubbing her strong arms that were around you.

“Thank you Leah, for everything.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

[cauliflowertree]

—moodboards

baking with beth march

[wileys-russo]

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

this started off as a blurb but about 2.3k words later, it's a fic 🕺

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

"go on girls push up on em, hug em tight!" katie cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted to you all from the corner as you began to shove in as close to the goal as you could get. you were two down and though you refused to check, you knew your time to get anything on the score sheet was running out fast.

as katie connected for the kick the ball came in hard and fast, angled almost perfectly for you to get your head on it and hopefully send it into the back of the net. 

however you felt an elbow dig into your back and with a half step forward you lost your footing, falling to the ground and glancing up to see the ball fly right over you toward the back post, quickly kicked out of play by a defender as the final whistle sounded and the crowd errupted with cheers, the villa players all running to celebrate with one another in the middle of the field.

letting out a deep sigh you rolled onto your back and stayed laid down on the pitch, feeling the warm afternoon sun bathe your face as you covered your eyes with your arm. "come on up now, no time for sulking." manu kicked gently at you as you lazily swatted her foot away and mumbled something she didn't quite catch, the older woman retreating to console the rest of your team.

"hey you, you played really well." another gentle poke to your side. 

you removed your arm and squinted one eye open to meet the caring and concerned gaze of your former team mate, jordan smiling sympathetically as she sat down beside you on the pitch. "i missed three sitters and gave away two free kicks, one of which was scored from!" you grumbled in annoyance, slumping your arm back over your face with a sigh.

"that doesn't mean you didn't play well, the better team just won." jordan poked teasingly again at your side, the older girl having been somewhat of a sisterly figure in the years you'd played together you knew she didn't mean anything by the comment. 

"i am at least glad you're getting the minutes you deserve jordy." you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, the older girl wrapping you in a tight hug before excusing herself to celebrate with her team as you once more flopped back down onto the pitch. 

much as you were at first angry and disappointed when she'd informed you of her transfer, with time you understood why it was needed, and her successful season had only confirmed it for you further.

"oi lazy, the grass called and complained you're squashin it!" a much less gentle kick to your side had you glancing up at the grinning irish woman who offered you a hand. though you should have known better than to accept, as just after your fingers touched she was quick to drop her grip, sending you stumbling back onto your bum.

"mccabe!" you brushed yourself off and glared up at her, kicking your legs out to try and sweep hers out from under her but you were much too slow as she sent you a cheeky wink. 

"come on then, up we get now!" with that she grabbed your hands again, this time properly pulling you up and slinging a strong arm across your shoulders. 

marching the two of you across the field she talked your ear off about not being so hard on yourself, which given the nature of the fact you were your own harshest critic, was a speech you'd heard after almost every match you played. and if it wasn't from her, it was just coming from someone else.

after shaking hands with most of your opposition, exchanging friendly end of season small talk with those you knew well from playing at a national level, you found yourself again sat on the pitch but this time sandwiched inbetween leah and katie, across from you were rafa, beth and viv, the six of you sat in a circle soaking up the sun and discussing your upcoming planned holidays during the off season.

"how's it feeling?" you quietly murmured to leah glancing down at her bandaged knee where her crutches lay beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. even without needing her to confirm you knew she wasn't okay, but you'd also known her long enough to know she wasn't someone easily pushed into opening up. 

"physically? it's alright. everything else? story for another time." the blonde pressed a kiss to your forehead, affectionately patting your leg and nodding for viv to give her a hand up. as your circle dispersed you wandered around looking around for the one person you were yet to speak to, who was also the one you'd been dying to all match.

"hi squinty." tattooed arms wrapped tightly around you from behind, rough but warm lips pressed a few soft kisses to your jawline as you spun around in your girlfriends hold. "you promised you'd stop calling me that." you huffed, smacking at her shoulder as the blonde grinned, loving nothing more than to tease and wind you up and boy was she good at it, and in any way that she wanted.

"well if you wore your contacts when you played or your glasses every other day, i wouldn't need to, would i?" rachel teased, hands moving to rest on your hips as she pushed you softly into the barrier behind you, pressing her body into yours and leaning in. you closed your eyes expecting her lips to touch yours however they simply pressed a kiss to your cheek and she stepped away.

"sorry i can't be seen snogging losers, its bad for my reputation." she shrugged crossing her arms over her chest as you rolled your eyes. but your girlfriend knew she was the only person who could get away with sledging you after a loss without you taking it personally, she was avidly also your biggest supporter and made sure not to let you forget it.

"didn't realise your reputation as a naff muppet would be affected by kissing a cute girl." you shot back jumping up to sit on the edge of the barrier, crossing your own arms over your chest with a satisfied smirk. "oh a naff muppet she says does she?" rachel scoffed, slotting her body inbetween your legs as you nodded in confirmation.

"yeah look i've actually been meaning to end this-" you gestured between the two of you, "-we had our fun and all babe but really i'm just...i'm just too out of your league. i can't keep settling it's a bad look, fitties have to date fitties and..." you trailed off, looking her up and down with a wince.

"you were the best 557 night stand i ever had kid." you continued dramatically with a sigh, placing your hands either side of her face and squeezing her cheeks as she stared blankly back at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. 

"it's not you it's me. ahh i like you too much, i'm holding you back. what else? oh! in order for us to be a better we, i have to be a better me." you paused to think before continuing, finishing with a beaming grin at the unimpressed look on the older girls face. "are you done then?" she quipped with a roll of her eyes.

"yeah i think that pretty much covers it?" you stroked your chin mockingly, looking off into the distance with a contemplative hum. though you let out a yell as suddenly you were looking at the ground again, your girlfriend easily slinging your smaller form over her shoulder.

"rach! put me down." you couldn't help but laugh as the blonde smacked playfully at your bum with her free hand. "i will, gonna water board you in this cooler here first though." your girlfriend replied, waving to your team mates who called our their usual teasing remarks, you flipping them off as you were carried past. 

"wait i have to go get my stuff!" you tried to jump down as she walked off the field and toward the villa change rooms, though her hold on you only tightened. "as the one whose just been dumped i get to go first thanks." 

~

"kiss it!" you struggled underneath the taller girl as she sat on top of you, arms firmly pressed to the bed by her knees as she grinned, the seasons golden boot trophy held tightly in her hands.

"no! i refuse." you pressed your head back into the pillow, shaking your head from side to side as she wiggled the shoe shaped piece of silverware in your face. "baby you either kiss it willingly and i get off ya and we go to dinner, or we continue on like this and you miss out on your pizza." the blonde shrugged, looking down at you.

"are you threatening me right now?" your eyes narrowing at the thought of missing out on eating at your favorite restaurant. 

the two of you hadn't been on a proper date in what felt like months, and rachel had made sure as soon as the fixtures for your final game of the season came out she had a table booked and your evening plans locked down.

though that's not to say the blonde wouldn't keep her word and make you miss out. both of you hot headed and quick to rise to a challenge, sometimes your arguments could last days without either of you willing to compromise, both just as stubborn as one another.

"no i'm promising." your girlfriend smirked, hands resting either side of your head as she slowly lent down, ghosting her lips over yours without any actual contact and pulling away with a teasing smile, wiggling her trophy mockingly in your face once again.

"fine." you muttered with a glare, quickly pecking the cool metal and trying to sit up but your girlfriend pushed you back, head thumping into your pillow. "no, a proper kiss." the girl smiled smugly, feeling your body let out a deep exhale of annoyance beneath her. 

"i am not snogging your trophy just to placate your inflamed fragile ego!" you warned seriously, eyes glaring daggers up at her, only spurring her on further. "well then you're also not getting your pizza baby." rachel shrugged simply, holding out the golden boot expectantly as you threw your head back and let out a loud frustrated groan.

"this is for you, my beloved bella italia." you looked up to the ceiling and spoke, dedicating your actions to your favorite italian restaurant, properly macking on with your girlfriends trophy for a few seconds.

"i hate you daly." you huffed, shoving her harshly off of you as she collapsed onto the bed, clutching at her chest to try and catch her breath, loud booming laughter echoing around the room. "i'm hiring someone to come and take that and throw it in the river when we're in portugal!" you warned bluntly, sitting up and glaring down at your still laughing girlfriend.

"she didn't mean it don't worry you're coming with us to portugal." rachel whispered reassuringly to the trophy in her hands, stretching over to place it down on her side table and grabbing at the back of your shorts as you rolled your eyes and tried to leave, pulling you back down onto the bed and trapping you in a tight hug.

"kiss me like i'm a golden boot." the blonde whispered seductively before her face broke into a grin and she pressed her lips to yours, cold hands wandering up your jersey as her tongue slid into your mouth, your hands pressing on the back of her head to deepen the kiss only spurring her on further.

"you're insufferable." you pulled away, gently biting down on her bottom lip as you did, the girl on top of you holding back a moan. "you're insufferable." she echoed back, a pause lingering between the two of you before your mouth curled into a smile and you pushed your head up to continue the kiss.

your golden boot winning girl, and you couldn't be prouder.

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumpuary Day 7-8

Prompt: Lightheaded

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

This was brutal. On the road, boots dragging over the pavement in the hot Georgia sun. No supplies. No game to hunt. A meager amount of water. In the tournament of survival, your group seemed to be on the losing side. You were all exhausted, sweltering, and easily agitated. 

Daryl was no exception, probably the most volatile with the exception of Sasha. He continued to refuse your attempts at making him drink, reasoning that his share go to Judith or Carl. You were quickly losing patience with his repudiation of his own wellbeing. It infuriated you that he continuously put himself last, acting as if that was the price of admission into your little apocalyptic family. 

“Daryl, you need to drink.” You stepped into his path, pressing the canteen into his chest. “Don’t argue with me. I swear, I will sit on you and pour it down your throat.”

The archer seemed to mull over your words, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. Any hope you had managed to gather during his moment of consideration was quickly shattered when he sidestepped around you with a mumbled m’fine. 

You were quick to block him again. Well, as quick as you could be with exhaustion and hunger gnawing away at you. 

“This is bullshit, Daryl!” You thrust the canteen at him once again. “You’re important too!” He smiled at your concern, not a genuine one. It was a weak attempt at reassurance. 

“M’fine.” He was gentle when he pushed away your offering. Right on cue, baby Judith began to fuss from her little carrier on Carl’s back. You spared a glance, a mere heartbeat, and he was gone when you looked back. Silent as a ghost, only the lingering sway of branches as evidence of his departure. With an inward sigh, you walked over to Rick and handed him the canteen with a nod toward his children. 

The slow but steady march had once again begun when Daryl appeared next to Rick. You were just behind the deputy, watching your archer with narrowed eyes. Something was off. His steps were sluggish, in stark contrast to the way he kept his chin raised and shoulders back. You longed for him to allow himself to be vulnerable, just once. Admit he was human like any of the rest of you. Admit he was tired or thirsty, that he needed to stop and rest. 

When Daryl staggered sideways, your hand immediately went to Rick’s shoulder; a careful movement that alerted him. He glanced back at you and followed your gaze, turning his head toward the hunter. Daryl had already found his footing, but was looking down at the pavement while shaking his head lightly. 

You hoped that someone else asking would be the catalyst to his admittance of being the opposite of fine as he automatically claimed each time you expressed your concern. Rick didn’t break stride as he walked closer to Daryl, who didn’t seem to notice at all. 

“You alright, brother?” 

Rick’s voice suddenly in such close proximity appeared to startle him, his head snapping up to reveal a dazed expression. Wide blue eyes narrowed, not in anger but confusion. He blinked quickly a few times and dropped his gaze back to the pavement. 

“Mhm.”

“We can stop. Take a break.” When Daryl didn’t answer, the other man stopped walking with a hand grasping the archer’s forearm. “Hey, let’s take a break.”

“Ain’t needin’ no break.” Daryl seethed, snatching his arm away. He stumbled but only slightly before continuing ahead. 

Rick was watching him when you came to stand at his side. “He’s not okay.”

“Yeah.” You replied inside a sigh. “He’s gonna drop, Rick. I can’t get him to drink anything.” Daryl’s gait was off. He carried himself by sheer force of will, veering left and then right without seeming to notice. “He’s punishing himself.” You said after a moment. When Rick looked at you, you were already looking back at him. “For Beth.”

A nod was shared and then the trek began again. 

Later, the sun was at its highest, the unforgiving heat taking its fury out on the lot of you. You had stripped off your t-shirt, the camisole underneath providing enough coverage that you weren’t embarrassed. Everyone who could remove something with the hope of some relief had done so as well. Except, of course, the ever stubborn, self destructive archer. 

This time, you sent Carol after him when he disappeared to hunt game and water. When she stepped back onto the road without him, you couldn’t contain the hope in your eyes. It was quickly shot down by a shake of her head. 

Goddamnit, Daryl. He didn’t appear for a while, longer than usual, worrying you sick. You were ready to have his head on a platter when he emerged from the foliage and took the lead. Fingers combed your damp hair away from your face more out of frustration than an attempt at some sort of relief. You knew you looked like a parent preparing to scold their child when you began to stomp toward the man who was currently the single source of your worry and agitation. You were almost just behind him when he staggered, a palm slapping against his forehead. This time, he wasn’t able to catch his balance and descended hard to one knee. 

“Daryl?” Annoyance forgotten, you dropped down beside him, concern intensifying into something more akin to panic as you watched him blink fast, close his eyes; rinse and repeat. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Just a lil’ lightheaded. Need a minute s’all.” He needed more than a minute, damn him. His lips were cracked, tongue dry as a bone when he attempted to wet them. 

“Let’s take a break.” Rick, crouching on Daryl’s other side, suggested in a hushed tone. 

The archer growled and gave a valiant effort toward standing, only to fall back to both knees. “Lot’a light left. Should keep movin’.” 

“No.” The deputy raised his brows, clearly not considering that option. “You’re dead on your feet. Rest. Drink.” He offered his own bottle, pushing it toward Daryl with an expression that indicated he wasn’t asking. 

You reached for the container, jutting your chin toward the rest of your comrades. Rick nodded and gently clapped a hand over Daryl’s shoulder with a squeeze. He left the two of you there, trusting your ability to get through to the archer. 

“Let’s go sit in the shade.” You left no room for argument, extending a hand toward him once you were upright. He looked at it but didn’t take it, pressing a palm to the hot pavement to force himself to his feet. When he tilted backwards, you were quick to grab his arm and prevent him from smacking his head on the unforgiving ground. “Come on.” 

Daryl allowed you to lead him to a large tree, a little ways away from everyone else. Having several concerned gazes on him would be nothing but a hindrance, and he desperately needed to rest and hydrate. You plopped down first and patted the ground next to you. Your irritation was already ebbing away, extinguishing entirely when you saw him struggling to lower to the grass without tipping over. 

“Drink.” You handed over Rick’s water and nearly sobbed when he took a sip. The archer tried to hand it back, stopped short by a shake of your head. “You haven’t had any. Catch up. Take your share.” After a moment, he lifted the bottle to his lips. The relief was almost overwhelming. “I’m not gonna bitch at you but you really need to take better care of yourself.”

He scoffed, toying with the bottle cap between his fingers. “M’fine.”

“If you say that one more time, I’m going to drown you in the first body of water we come across.” You managed to sound completely serious while brushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead. “At least try. For me?”

Daryl stared at you, lifting the bottle halfway and pausing there. “Okay.” He took another sip, already feeling a little less like a walker. “For you.”

[noxturnalpascal]

Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 7)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: references to previous SAs (not described in detail), manipulation, thoughts of self-harm and suicide.⚠️

PREVIOUS

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 7 (7.8k) | 10 Weeks Later | It’s the last Thursday in March and you’re helping pack up the wagon for Hank and his daughter, Amber, to make one of their weekly trips into town. The milk churns are loaded in the back, filled and ready for delivery to the Valley residents in town. You double check the breast collars on the horses and the traces going to the wagon while Hank asks if you’re sure you don’t wanna come with? He asks every week and every week your answer is the same.

“No thank you, Hank, there’s plenty to do here.”

While that’s certainly true, it’s not the real reason you never join them. There’s plenty to keep you busy and never a shortage of chores on a dairy farm, especially one that has almost no electrical power to help run it. But the more honest reason you don’t join them in town is that it would complicate your ability to avoid Joel. Part of you felt a finality when you got here, that whatever it was between you was over and you’d start fresh and finally be rid of him. But you should have known better. You should have known he’d still haunt you.

Your mind has still been full of him, filled with memories of the good times and the bad. You think you see him out of the corner of your eye, in places he shouldn’t be, but when you turn to look, of course he isn't there. Sometimes you think you can smell him when you walk into your room at night, but he’s definitely never been in there. You can usually avoid actively seeing him, since Hank doesn’t like to attend the Friday night events and Joel would never come this far out of town with as busy as he’s kept by Tess. But you can’t avoid him on Sundays.

Hank never presses the issue when he asks you to join him on Thursday nights, but joining them on Sundays isn’t optional. As a devout man, Hank requires everyone to dress in their best clothes and make the hour-long ride into town so you can all sit in the big, old church and hear about God’s plan for you. Every Sunday you see Joel in the front row, sitting through the service before he gets up and makes his usual speech. You scoot down in the pew, making yourself as small as possible, trying not to draw attention. He gives you none.

Once the service is over, everyone funnels out of the church to the rec hall next door. You walk past the closet where you were on your knees for your false god and try not to burn at the shameful feeling that washes over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself. Sometimes Tess comes over to your table at dinner and talks to the Mansfields, making sure to ask how you’re doing and gives you kind smiles. But Joel never comes over. He sits at his table with the other women – and Beth – and keeps his back turned to you. 

You once thought that it seemed like he was putting extra effort into purposely not looking your way. You pushed the preposterous thought from your mind until you realized too late one Sunday that you were in a line to shake his hand before dinner. You were busy re-plaiting Amber’s braid at her insistence and didn’t notice how close you were to him until you heard his gruff voice speaking to Hank. It was too late for you to run the other way, which is what you usually did, so instead you ducked down, trying to hide behind Amber, knowing it was futile. 

Amber beamed at him, shaking his hand with both of hers, bubbling with praise over how great his speech was and what a great job he did. Her little crush on him had never been more annoying than it was at that moment. You knew that he knew you were there, there was no way to hide your entire body behind Amber’s diminutive frame. And yet, you watched his eyes jump over you and land on the next person in line, completely – and purposely – ignoring your presence. He was definitely making an effort.

– 

All of that happened nearly two months ago and now you just make absolutely sure to pay attention and stay away from him on Sundays, so you don’t have to notice him not noticing you. In fact, these days you hardly think of him at all. Okay, maybe that’s not quite true, but you’d like to think that in comparison to when you first got to the Mansfield’s, you’re doing much better.

The first night you’d arrived, Amber had led you up the stairs to her room, which she said you’d be sharing. The room was huge, probably three times bigger than the room you had been calling yours. You had a comfortable bed all to yourself on one side of the room as well as three dresser drawers and half the closet to fill with your things. You hadn’t brought anywhere near enough clothes to go in the spaces, but you found that Beth had unexpectedly left several items of clothing behind in a size that fit you.

When the lanterns were snuffed out for the night you’d laid your head on the pillow and cried heaving, muffled sobs, hoping Amber wouldn’t hear you. Why were you crying? You had more space and more autonomy at that moment than you’d had in months. You had a bedroom door that closed and a family that was eager to have you. No one was going to hit you, touch you, or scream at you. You were safe. And yet you felt so alone. More alone than you had in a very long time.

You’d let yourself cry until your head ached, and then you got up and walked to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on your warm, puffy face. You looked in the mirror and began to chide your pitiful reflection. 

Why are you crying over him? Why would you miss him? What is wrong with you?

These same thoughts repeated for the first week, playing over and over in your mind every time you started to feel sad. So stupid of you to cry as if you were the only one in the world with problems. The whole world had gone to hell and you were crying because some man lied to you. You shouldn’t have even fucking trusted him in the first place. You’d let yourself fall right into his trap even though everything inside you was telling you not to.

–

You wonder if he misses you or if he’s already moved on to the next one. Maybe Beth has fully replaced you and his focus is on her now, already suffocating her with affection and fucking her in your old bed. Had he asked Tess about you, or Hank, or anyone? You have thoughts about getting sick or even dying, and wonder what he would say when he heard, if he would feel bad, if he would shed a tear. He most likely wouldn’t care at all, his fixation with you having run its course. You were yesterday’s news.

You think about hurting yourself and if he’d do anything about that. Maybe he’d come out to the farm and visit you; sit by your bedside and read to you. Maybe he’d throw you over his knee and spank you for it. You wonder if you should leave The Valley, and you’re not sure which would hurt more; him coming after you or him letting you go. Maybe you should kill yourself. He’s not around to stop you. No one is.

Goddamnit, you are so fucking dramatic. None of this shit matters, anyway – your life was always a burning pile of trash and it was always going to be a burning pile of trash. A couple-months-blip of whatever pseudo-relationship you had with this man was not the pinnacle of your life. He wasn’t sent by some higher power to save you. You weren’t two halves of a whole, ripped apart at the beginning of creation, roaming the ends of the earth to find each other again. Get a fucking grip.

Oh, you were used by a man for your body? What else is new? That’s not breaking fucking news, that’s just what men do. That’s what men do to you. That is what your life has always been and clearly you’re some kind of magnet for this behavior. There is obviously something about you that all these men see and it calls out to them that you’ll fall for their bullshit every time and they can take whatever they want from you. You’re doing something wrong, leading them on somehow. You deserve this. You were asking for it.

At the end of the first week you’d told yourself you weren’t gonna go on with these spiraling, obsessive, pathetic thoughts about him anymore. You were exhausted at feeling this way and were sure everyone around you was getting tired of it too, of you moping around the farm like Eeyore, sniveling and crying. You were distracted all the time, head in the clouds. Months worth of hopes and dreams played over and over in your mind, each recalled moment had hit you like a fucking shotgun blast to the stomach.

Giggling in the hallway while he kissed your neck and tickled your skin with his stubble. Pow.

The phantom feeling of his fingertips tracing circles on your skin while he reads to you. Pow.

The heat of his body behind you, sniffing your hair, whispering, “Good morning, baby.” Pow.

His tongue sliding along your bottom lip, licking into your mouth, tasting you. Pow.

How stupid were you to think that’s what your life was going to be like? As if it could ever be like that. Your life isn’t a fucking movie, it’s not a love song, it’s not some sappy romance novel. You’re not the main character, you’re not the heroine. You don't get a happy ending. You get to be used. You get to be left. You get to be alone. You get to be hungry. You get to feel empty.

That’s what you had before, why would it be any different now, here – at the end of the world? Why would you deserve anything different?

–

You need to stop your hyper-fixating thoughts, you feel like you’re going crazy out here, haunted by him. There’s no one you can talk to or confide in, no one you trust. You have to find a way to get this out of your system. You need to figure out how to move on. You decide you’re going to let yourself have each memory one time, and then you’re gonna pack it up and send it away, so it can’t hurt you anymore. 

You find an old stack of newspapers in the loft of the barn and begin ripping off small sections. Each time you have one of these spiraling thoughts of him – losing yourself in a memory – you walk to the edge of the property and stand next to the creek that runs through there. You let yourself have the thought, from start to finish, and before you can repeat it or turn it over in your head to overthink it, you crumple the scrap of paper in your hand – crunching it down into a tiny little ball – and throw it into the creek. Once it’s out of sight you don’t let yourself dwell on it anymore. 

The conversation you had one evening, limbs entwined, between making out like teenagers on the chilly front porch, saying that if he’d met you before the world ended he’d have taken you out on a date. 

“Where would you take me?”

“Out for ice cream, to a baseball game, maybe a drive-in movie.”

“What movie?”

“Any movie you wanted to see, baby.”

“What else?”

“I’d bring you flowers, hold your hand, kiss you goodnight.”

“Would you call me after?”

“Of course I would, you’d be my girl.” 

His girl. His. His possession. Maybe that’s all he ever wanted; to own you like you were just another one of his little things on a shelf.

Into the river.

Right around Thanksgiving, he’d told you more about Sarah, his daughter. He’d told you she loved the color purple, drawing butterflies, playing soccer with her friends, and giving her old man shit. You’d thought the shine in his eyes when he talked about her was one of the best things about him. 

“Single dad?” 

“Yup.”

“Ever married?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Just never appealed to me.”

You didn’t read into it at the time but you wonder now if you shouldn’t have seen the signs, if it wasn’t obvious and you were just being willfully ignorant. Oh well.

Into the river.

You told him about going with a friend and her stepdad to their lake house for an overnight when you were little. You and your friend had spent all day playing in the water and when it was time for bed she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. The loud, squealing of the air conditioning kicking on and off kept you awake and you reluctantly got up to ask the only adult to make it stop. He suggested you sleep in his bed instead, lifting the covers for you to join him. Against your better instincts, you crawled in. 

“How old were you?” he asked with gritted teeth. 

“Maybe eight.”

He cursed under his breath. “Wasn’t right.”

“I know.” 

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that too.”

“He shouldn’t ha–” 

“I know, Joel.”

“You tell anyone? Your mom, your dad?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know… I guess it felt like something you’re supposed to keep secret.” 

“Did he ever–?” 

“No. I never saw him again. And I never hung out with that girl again.” 

What’s worse? The memory of it, the shame of recalling it in front of him, or the way he pitied you, holding you tighter in his arms that night than he ever had before?

Into the river.

This was your routine, sometimes once or twice a day, sometimes more. One particularly hard day early on you made nearly a dozen trips to the river. Amber asked if you were okay. You lied and told her you were fine. You had to let him go, each thought you released cleansing you of him, letting the water wash away your pain. This went on for weeks and weeks and you’re not sure if you’re actually getting better but you are feeling a little better and maybe that’s all you can hope for. 

–

Amber used to ask you a million questions a day about him. What was Joel like? Was he nice? What was his house like? What did you do there? Was it fun? You didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was both your ultimate dream and your worst nightmare, that his house was a trap that he held you in while he manipulated and hurt you, and that he was a monster hiding in plain sight in this community he created just for that purpose. Instead of divulging that heinous truth, you suffice to tell her that Joel is kind, the house is nice, and living there was fine.

It was obvious that she had a little thing for him, but if you’re being honest she probably got it from her mother, who talked about Joel with the same dreamy lilt to her voice as Amber. Hank also seemed to get misty-eyed when he talked about what great things Joel has done for the people in this valley. A wolf emerges in the apocalypse, disguising himself as a shepherd, and the sheep all flock to him. You remind yourself not to judge them too harshly since you too were once one of the sheep.

You’d been living with the Mansfields for about a month when Amber started to make comments about Beth coming back to the house. Your stomach lept into your throat, thinking that it meant you’d have to go back to your tiny, doorless room at Joel’s house. But the more she spoke the more you realized she was acting like she would be the one going to live at Joel’s. You realized that you saw them last Sunday, hunched in a corner, talking to each other. You’d just assumed she had trapped him into talking to her, knowing how captivated she was with everything that came out of his mouth.

But now you wonder if they haven’t been growing closer, getting to know each other at the Thursday meetings she insisted on going to when you turned down Hank’s offer to accompany him as Beth had. Maybe he likes how infatuated she is with him, it certainly seems like that’s something he’d be into – being worshiped. Maybe he’s already offered her the little room at the top of the stairs. She can mend holes in clothes and cook much better than you ever could, maybe she’d suck his dick better than you too. You hate the way your insides churn even more at that thought.

He’s moved on, forgotten about you. He’s onto the next one. He doesn’t even look at you anymore.

Hank had his wife, Laurel, give you chores early on, doing some of the work that Beth used to do around the house. However, she quickly realized what Tess had already figured out, that you weren’t any good at that kind of stuff. Within a week you had exhausted her patience and she sent you out to the barn for Hank to find work for you. 

You’re pretty sure Hank liked you, you’d always had nice conversations with him on Thursdays, relating to him that your grandparents had a farm and you’d grown up visiting it. You’d left out the part where the farm was no longer operational when you visited it and maybe Hank had been happy to have you and Beth switch rooms when he thought he was getting some kind of experienced farm worker. So Hank gave you plenty of work, as there was always a ton to do, and then left you unsupervised most of the day while he tended to the silo levels, the pasture fences, the sanitizing of the milk churns, and countless other tasks.

Two ranch hands – Danny and Diego – live at the house with the family and spend every day, all day, working with Hank to operate the farm. They help milk the cows and goats, tend to sick animals, help with feedings, take care of cleaning of the freestalls, and also pretty much do every single job that Hank assigns to you.

You think they felt bad for you, with your puffy face and red eyes, dragging yourself around the barn during that dark before dawn at the end of that first week. Feeling dejected and out of sorts, missing the familiarity of your old home, being useless at basic homestead chores – they kept catching you crying in any corner you could find to yourself. They started doing your work back then, and even though that was over two months ago, you still barely lift a finger. Hank never seems to notice, all he cares is that the work is done.

You don’t talk much, you just keep to yourself and pet the animals. For a while you thought they must think you were stupid, but it turns out they just wanted to get on your good side. One day early on, they asked if you’d told Tess or Joel about them, and not knowing what the answer should be, you’d muttered not yet, and ran away. It wasn’t until you walked into the barn one snowy morning weeks later and found them standing too close to each other that it even dawned on you what part of them they were asking about.

You knew Hank wouldn’t approve if he saw them behaving that way, if he knew what it implied. Maybe he’d already seen them, and a threat had been made. Hank was a conservative man, old fashioned and strict. You thought maybe the phrase small-minded might also apply, but Hank was kind to all of you, so you tried not to judge him too harshly. You weren’t entirely sure why Danny and Diego were worried about Tess or Joel finding out about their relationship, but you were pretty sure they wouldn’t give a shit. 

Joel was probably fucking half the women in town, why would he care if two guys down the valley were fucking each other? You kept that tidbit to yourself, along with the stories that Tess used to tell you about her gay brother, so that Danny and Diego would keep helping you – keep doing all your work. That was probably a little fucked up, to hold it over their heads in a way, but it also kept your boots from being covered in cow shit from mucking stalls all morning and your fingers from freezing off while milking cows all afternoon. It also meant you got to hang out with baby goats, which was sometimes the only happiness you had.

–

It’s the last Sunday in March and you’re sitting in the middle of the pew, wedged between Amber and Diego, as Joel gets up to address the congregation. Before you can do your usual sinking down in the seat to make yourself less visible, you see Bianca out of the corner of your eye. Bianca is here! You haven’t seen her since she moved out of the house before Thanksgiving.

You’re so focused on trying to look around the people’s heads in front of you to see her that you aren’t fully listening to the announcement Joel is making. Everyone around you begins to stand up and applaud and it makes it impossible to see Bianca, so you stand as well, confused now what everyone is clapping for. Slowly the applause dies down and everyone is sitting back down, but trying to get a glimpse of your friend, you remain standing a little too long.

And that’s when you see it. The baby. A very small baby. A newborn baby. Joel is holding it and smiling and as everyone sits down he hands it back to Bianca. You forget you’re supposed to be sitting down and don’t notice that everyone else around you is already seated. You’re still standing there, staring at this baby. Bianca has a baby? Wait, is that Joel’s fucking baby?

Amber is tugging on your shirt sleeve but it’s too late, Joel has turned back to the crowd, and for the first time in ten weeks, he looks right at you. You can’t fucking move, you can’t look away. The two of you stare at each other for far too long and you notice people starting to look back and forth between you, a low murmur spreading over the mass. Amber starts pulling frantically on your arm and Hank’s voice booms from the end of the row, ordering you to sit down. You hear Tess hissing Joel’s name from the front row.

A cheshire cat grin creeps across his face and he finally breaks eye contact with you, turning to address the congregation once more. You sit, plopping down heavily in your seat. You think Hank and his wife are whispering about you and Amber is telling you how embarrassing that was, but you can’t hear anything over the thumping of your own heart and the ringing in your ears. Bianca was fucking pregnant… the whole time? The whole time. Bile rises in your throat. Only then does it dawn on you that Tess moved her out when she started to show. That’s why she was getting bigger. Saliva begins to flood your mouth.

Joel fucked every woman in that house. Jesus fucking Christ, you were so blind. Your stomach lurches. He must fuck Tess too. No wonder Tess wanted you out of there – you were taking up too much of his time, too much of his focus. That’s probably why she sent Bianca away too, looking at her pregnant belly would have been a reminder that Joel was fucking all those other people. Tess must be jealous, right? You don’t blame her. You’d be jealous too. Fuck, you are jealous. Still. Even now, after all this time. 

You jump up out of your seat and scrabble over laps, ignoring Hank’s protests you exit the pew and dart out of the sanctuary. Once in the foyer you run into the nearest bathroom and retch into the sink, unable to make it to the toilet. Once the contents of your stomach have been emptied out, you splash your face with water and rinse your mouth out.

–

You hide in the bathroom until the service ends, listening as people pass by the door, telling Amber you’re fine and you’ll meet the family in the rec hall when she comes in to check on you. You wait until you don’t hear any more conversation or shuffling feet in the foyer to finally exit the bathroom. The entire building is empty except for one other person who is waiting outside the bathroom when you come out.

Joel.

Your boots squeak on the floor as you stop quickly in your tracks with the full weight of his attention on you now. You forgot how heavy it feels, locked in his gaze – an invisible weight pushing down on your body and trapping you where you stand. You can’t run away, you can’t even manage to look away. How does he still have this fucking effect on you? He stands before you, seemingly just a man, but taking up the whole room, monumental and intimidating. But in this moment, caught up in the flood of emotions you feel, you forget that you’re supposed to be afraid of him. You forget because the strongest thing you feel right now is anger.

“Is that your baby?” you snarl.

He scoffs and waits a beat, letting you anticipate his response. “That’s none of your goddamn business,” he replies – in a church – one corner of his mouth turning up.

“Fuck you.”

He cocks an eyebrow and takes a single step towards you, a reminder that you should be afraid of him. You gasp and take two steps backwards, colliding with the wall behind you, your head hitting it with a thump that echoes in the empty hall. He’s searching your face now, eyes pausing on your mouth. You’re reminded that the closet where he had you on your knees is only a few feet away. Your heart starts to race and you take rapid breaths, feeling the adrenaline begin to course through your veins.

No. He’s not gonna intimidate you. He’s going to fucking answer you.

“Who’s baby was that?” you ask again, louder this time. He looks surprised you’re still speaking. “Is that your fucking baby?”

“What do you care?” he snaps.

“I– I don’t,” you stammer.

Another scoff. He’s fucking laughing at you. Another smug grin. This son of a bitch. 

“Well now,” he shakes his head slowly, “That really doesn’t seem like the truth.”  He takes measured steps forward, closing in on you.

“It is,” you manage to squeak out, swallowing around the lump in your throat with an audible gulp. This is the least fucking convincing thing you’ve ever said. “I don’t care. I just wanna know–”

Tsk, he hums, interrupting you. “Sounds like a lie to me,” he shakes his head more and takes another step, nearly toe to toe with you now.

You do everything in your power to keep your chin up, to keep your eyes locked on his and your teeth gritted. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself. 

“You’d know,” you spit. “All you do is lie.” You’re half insulting him, half reminding yourself.

“At least I’m good at it, sweetheart.”

–

The ride back to the farm is quiet. Laurel asks if you’re feeling okay but otherwise no one mentions the scene you and Joel made during the service. Once you get back you head to your room with Amber, both of you changing into less formal clothes to do your afternoon chores. You dress slowly, letting her finish first and leave you alone in the room. 

You pull the backpack Tess had given you the night you came here out of the back of the closet. When she had handed it to you behind the skating rink, it was already packed with your clothes and any little trinkets you’d had in your room. She’d packed you a couple books but you noticed she hadn’t included the one Joel had given you on Christmas, the one you never read, the one you never even took to your room, the one you tried not to think about every time you saw it sitting on the mantle. 

You had told her you would give Beth your room and she pulled this bag out of a wagon, ready to send you on your way. She was ready for you to go even if you weren’t, and so you went. That night. Without so much as a goodbye. You take that bag now and hold it by your legs, walking down the stairs to the basement as casually as possible.

When you come up from the basement, you run out to the barn to pretend to do your afternoon chores. Danny and Diego do anything you were expected to do and you spend time petting some of your favorite goats and hanging out in the hayloft. When the sun begins to set you rip a large piece of newspaper off the stack and climb down, sneaking out of the barn, down the lane, and to the creek.

It’s time to let go of another memory. Maybe your last one? This is a big one. You’ve been holding onto it, trying your best not to think of it, willing yourself to pass over it the way Joel’s eyes would pass over you on Sundays. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been unwilling to let it go. Until now. Now it’s time.

You let yourself remember the night…

You’d already let him into your pants in the hallway after the meeting a few weeks prior, and you knew that fucking him was an eventuality. That week the meeting ended late and every other person shuffled out of the meeting hall before you had even finished putting the chairs away. Joel stood at the door, holding it open for the last farmer and his son, letting the cold, snowy air pour in as he said his goodbyes.

When he quietly closed the door, he turned to the open, empty room and looked you in the eyes. He reached over and flipped all the light switches, casting the room in sudden darkness. With no time for your eyes to adjust you were temporarily blind, hands immediately out at your front, searching, waiting for him to sneak up on you. Your nervous giggle is interrupted by the flick and hiss of a match and then he’s right there, only a couple feet in front of you, lighting a candle.

He leans over and sets it on the ground and then brings his match to a second candle. He repeats this process until there is a wide circle of what must be a dozen burning lights surrounding you both on the floor. He steps inside the circle, holds out his hand for yours, and you swear you can hear music when he pulls you in tight to his body and begins swaying back and forth with you.

This is new, being alone together like this. You’ve never been anywhere so quiet with him. At home it’s hardly ever quiet, and even when you do get time alone with him, it always seems to be interrupted. If you go home right now, he goes to his bedroom, you go to yours, and the night ends – but here, dancing in his arms amidst the flames, time slows down.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Joel,” you’d teased.

“Oh?”

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you’d said, your head resting on his body.

He grazed his lips across your cheek, placing kisses as he moved them to your ear.

“Maybe this is what we’d do on our first date,” he’d whispered.

“Dinner and dancing?”

“Dancing and breakfast,” he corrects.

“Breakfast?”

“The next morning,” he smiles, and you do too, and then he kisses you.

That kiss held a million promises. It made you forget everything that happened before him. That was when you knew you were in love with him. The earth stood still and everything else faded away. The warm circle of light illuminated you both and made the rest of the room seem even darker. Nothing outside that circle mattered. You were the only two people on earth. You existed only for each other.

He must have known it, at that moment, he must have been able to tell. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Your body went limp in his arms and you let every last trace of doubt and fear leave your body, submitting to your desire for him. Submitting to his desire for you. All pretense of dancing was given up and your passionate kisses became deeper. 

He held you tight and slowly began to remove your clothing, calling you baby and whispering adorations to you in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Holding your breasts in his massive hands, he dipped his head to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. He sucked the bud past his teeth and lightly bit down, soothing it with the flat of his tongue while you dragged your nails across his scalp, mewling at his ministrations. 

It wasn’t until he finally got you completely naked that you’d realized he was still fully dressed. You kept trying to touch the front of his pants like you’d done before but he wouldn’t let anything but your pleasure be the focus. He let you grind yourself on him, his hands grabbing your ass, pushing you on his thigh, using his body for friction as you continued to makeout, but he wouldn’t let you give his cock any attention. 

He slowly sunk you both down to the cold linoleum floor and at last began to unbutton his shirt. He shucked his flannel down his arms, leaving his undershirt on, and spread it out on the floor beside you. Using his hands to guide you, he positioned you on your hands and knees overtop his shirt.

You remember the feel of the soft green flannel under your knees, the cold air hitting the wetness that had smeared down your inner thighs, his burning hot hands running down your back to grab and spread your ass, and the gentle kisses he placed all over you. You could barely make out the quiet things he was saying he was going to do to you, it almost felt like he was talking to himself.

I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Let me taste you, baby.

You had your head turned, watching him, until he bent down and began licking you. You closed your eyes as your face went red-hot with embarrassment that another person was seeing you like this, had his mouth on you there. You’d had boys put their mouth on your pussy before but never like this. Never with your most intimate parts spread wide and on display, a face buried in them and devouring you.

The boys before had laid you on your back and bobbed their head up and down, taking halting, tentative licks. You had waited for it to feel like it was supposed to, watching them fumbling in your folds only to give up mere minutes later, moving along to chase their own pleasure as if what they just did was anything close to what you wanted. Giving you just a glimpse of what it could be but never delivering what you needed, as if the act itself was perfunctory, just a means to an end. This was different. 

Joel wasn’t tentative and he wasn’t fumbling. Joel knew exactly what he was doing, knew right where and how to touch you. Almost immediately your shame turned to pleasure as he lapped at you gently, swollen and extra-sensitive in anticipation as you were. This was what it was supposed to feel like. This is how a man was supposed to touch you. You began to moan and he pulled his face back a little, kissing and nuzzling your ass cheeks while bringing his hands to spread you again.

So fucking beautiful, you are so fucking beautiful here. Look how wet you are for me, baby. Can you feel this? Can you feel it? Do you know how beautiful you are? 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to stop calling you beautiful because the next thing he did was slowly slide two fingers into your gushing hole. The sting of the stretch was eased by the pleasure of the fullness, his thick fingers taking up so much space inside you, pushing on your walls. You felt wetness practically flowing out of you and you thought it must be dripping down his hand. Before you could feel any embarrassment his fingers began to shift out and back in, and you immediately thought about how good his cock would feel filling you up like this, making you moan long and loud.

Yes baby, let me hear you, tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need. 

You managed to blabber something about needing him to touch you there, somehow still too shy - despite your current condition – to say the word clit to him. You didn’t have to, he knew what you needed. He pulled his fingers out and you heard him shuffle around and when you worked up the courage to look backwards you saw his knees sticking up behind you. Oh shit. You looked down, underneath you instead. He’d positioned himself laying on his back, face up, directly under your cunt. You had never had anyone do this to you.

Come on baby, sit back. No, shhhh, it’s alright. Just lower yourself down a little, just like that baby. I need to eat this pussy. I need you, please.

He guided you down by your hips until his lips made contact with your core. You were too scared to put your full weight on him so you remained leaned forward a bit on your hands, hovering just above his head with shaking thighs, despite his incessant pulling on your ass downward and moaning into your wet heat. His lips closed around your sensitive bud and you felt him begin to gently suck on it. 

You couldn’t believe he was doing this. You were dizzy with desire. Never in your life had anyone had their mouth on you like this, like they were making out with your cunt. You alternated between feverishly throwing your head back and lowering your chin to your chest to greedily take in the sight of him ravenously eating you. You had never felt such blinding pleasure at the hands of another and you couldn’t stop yourself from wailing in ecstasy. You watched him pull away from you to take deep, gulping breaths, licking his lips of your wetness spread all over the lower half of his face. 

Sit down baby, you can sit on my face. Just relax, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I know what you need, baby. I’m gonna take care of you. You taste so good, so fuckin’ sweet. This pussy was made for me.

You were trying not to sit down on his face, trying not to suffocate him, trying not to think about what a fucking mess he was making of you and you of himself. When he slowly pushed his thick fingers back inside your wet clutch, any and all thoughts left your head completely. He increased the suction of his mouth on your clit and began to flick the tip of his tongue up and down, maintaining a steady tempo of stimulating your clit and fucking you on his fingers.

The pace he set was bringing you closer to your release – for the first time in your life you were able to push everything else out of your mind and focus on your own pleasure. You sat back on your knees a bit more, putting more weight onto him and letting his hands hold you at your hips. You reached between your legs to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to give him a fraction of the intimacy he was giving you. You could hardly believe it. This was how sex was supposed to feel. This is why people liked it so much. This is why it meant so much. You had never felt anything close to this. This was everything. 

Never faltering in his movements, never breaking his rhythm, he carried you higher and higher, finally cresting over your peak. Head thrown back and gripping his hair in your fists, fireworks burst behind your eyes as his name poured out of your mouth. You let him guide your hips in slow, smooth movements across his face, riding out the waves of your climax. 

With muffled groans he continued to eat you through your orgasm, grabbing handfuls of your ass and reaching up to pinch your nipples until his insatiable attention became overwhelming and started to sting, causing you to shrink away from his touch. He pulled back then, gently turned you on your back – still on top of his flannel – and you leaned back on your elbows as he moved back to your cunt, gently lapping up your release. 

You couldn’t believe how good it still felt, his hot tongue gently rasping against your swollen lips, his wet breath panting across your core. He was still moaning into you, the vibrations a pleasant sensation as he licked up everything you could give him. He placed kisses on your inner thighs and over your mound before rising to help you up and get back into your clothes. It wasn’t until the next day that you’d realized Joel must have left your underwear somewhere scattered on the floor and had blushed, hoping that whoever found them later wouldn’t know it was you who’d lost them.

You did so good, baby, that was so good. You were so beautiful. You tasted so good. So good, baby.

You briefly noticed there was a wet stain on the front of his pants but you weren’t sure if it was from him or from you. He locked up and then carried you back to the house that night, your legs were complete jello. You were pretty sure Tess was still up when you got back but you couldn’t think about the state she saw you in, all you could think about was him. He’d put you down on the porch at your insistence but he still had to help you up the stairs to your room. You’d fallen into bed and were asleep within minutes. 

That was the night you knew you were all-in. You gave yourself over to him completely. Even though you didn’t have sex, you knew you would have. You would have done anything for him, let him do anything to you. You would have let him ruin you. You were ready to give up every part of you, and knew you would have sex with him soon, knew that it was inevitable. That was the night you placed your heart into his massive hands and left it with him so that he could mangle it to pieces and leave you a broken person.

But even that’s not a fair assessment, is it? That’s not a correct memory. You were always a broken person. He didn’t cause it and he never could have fixed it. There was something inside you that was irreparable. It was never his job to fulfill your needy fantasies. You can be mad at him for lying to you but you need to face your own part in this. You did this to yourself. You put yourself in this position.

The only solution is to remove yourself from the equation. You don’t belong here, you never did. You probably don’t really belong anywhere. You’re not meant to be with him. He can’t fucking save you. You have to save yourself. You have to find your own way. You have to leave. You have to leave.

You focus on the feel of the delicate, aged paper in your hands, the soft squeaking noises it makes as you push it into your palm, the way you push it back and forth in your hands to get it as small as possible. Then you hold it in between your thumb and forefinger, hold your arm out over the water, and drop it in. You watch as the ball is quickly overtaken by moisture, pulled under the surface, and carried away on the current. 

–

In the dimming light of dusk you can see inside the farmhouse quite well. Lit by lanterns, you see Laurel through the kitchen window, working with Amber to fix dinner as Hank sits in his chair in the living room reading his bible. You turn your head and see the two ranch hands in the far field, herding the goats into their shed for the night. No one is looking for you.

You pick up your backpack from the ground and secure it over your shoulders, walking down the lane for the last time, never to return.

🖤

NEXT

Thank you so so so much to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk, for helping me with this series, even when you're sick and high on cold medicine 🫂You're the fucking A-1 steak sauce.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hi luv! May I req for Leo falling for a mischievous (cat-like personality) demigo (maybe ares, idk) after she beats him while sparring so he continuously asks her to spar just to spend more time together (and maybe she knows it and just plays along, maybe tells him she’ll go on a date with him once he beats her?). Idk this was just an idea, thought I got. Do not feel pressured or anything obvs!

Heya this has been in my inbox for a while and I finally got a good idea lol cause I don't wanna be posting half assed WIP's. [this is also combined with a request for Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena reader I got a while ago btw]

Enjoy <3

love is stronger then everything [except Clarrise, of course] ---Leo V x Daughter of Athena reader

»»————-　★　————-««

Leo was a mastermind. 

Like, obviously you were the daughter of Athena, but he was the one behind it all. He was just… so smart.  It was unbelievable sometimes. Not to be big headed or anything, he was just the most intelligent person in the room.

Well, in this scenario, it wasn’t the room, it was the arena. And that’s about where his cunning brain cells decided to sit on the bench and do their nails with Piper. 

He’d tell them off later, if he ever survived the sharp eyed sharp edged girl in front of him who was somehow holding a war axe made of solid imperial gold over her shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of your arms distracted him of his incoming death momentarily, but then you just had to open your mouth. “

“Valdez, are you gonna spar with me, or was the six step official challenge at breakfast with a disco ball and three tonnes of strawberries for nothing?” 

“Four tonnes, actually,” he managed to squeak out, and then shifted his grip on the sword he’d borrowed from Jake, who’d only laughed in his face when Leo told him he’d challenged you.

Judging by the way you fiddled with your camp beads necklace and then swung the smooth golden axe stained with something remarkably similar to human blood, Jake was right. Leo gulped and stepped back, ready to scramble out of the way and clang his too big sword against the edges of the axe he only just realized were sharp enough to cut through bone. 

You seemed to pity him as well, which Leo didn’t appreciate, but at least you gave him a few extra seconds to scramble out of the way.

A moment later there was sand in his eyes churned up by your sneakers, the ones with little green string snakes as laces. He vaguely remembered snakes being a symbol of Athena, only that thought was scrapped when he had to step back to avoid having his skull split in half. 

Piper cheered sarcastically and passed Jason a leftover strawberry from this morning’s events. 

You spun around and the axe made a crater in the sawdust covered ground. Leo turned and half heartedly swung his hammer at your shoulder, but you dipped back and knocked it out of his hands in less then a second, leaving him defenseless. 

Leo launched himself backwards and felt his shoe skid on the ground, sawdust billowing up into his vision as gravity decided to ruin his day, and his dignity. 

He was contemplating just falling asleep right then and there, when a gray sliver appeared in front of him. He had to cross his eyes to identify the metal poking his nose as the tip of your war axe. Leo just got comfy on the ground, resting his hands beneath his head as you glared. 

Apparently you weren’t satisfied with the early defeat, gray eyes narrowed as you snapped. “What on Olympus was that, Valdez?”

“Me fighting?” He asked hopefully, squinting up as the sun angled itself behind you. He brushed away the thought that it made you look a bit like an angel, despite the frown on your face and the weapon at his throat. 

“Well you aren’t any good at it, so don’t bother,” you said, hooking the axe over your shoulder and marching off. “I have to go help Beth with the capture the flag plans.”

Leo huffed, blowing a strand of his curly brown hair out of his face and grinning up at the roof, which swirled a little. He might’ve bumped his head a little too hard, now that he thought about it. 

Then another face swam in front of him and Piper popped a bubble that smelt vaguely of grapes. She looked towards where you’d disappeared out the arena’s swinging double doors. “What in the ever loving fucknuggets was that, Valdez?”

“I liked their version better,” Leo grumbled, and sat up slowly, feeling his bones groan internally at him. “And it’s not my fault their fit. And strong. ANd have a huge weapon. And pretty eyes. And-”

“And a nice ass?” 

“Yep, especially in those camo pan- why are you looking at their ass?” Leo asked suspiciously. Taking a hand from Piper to get up properly. He stretched his arms above his head and tried to stop thinking about your butt. It didn’t really work very well, and then his thoughts skipped along to your thighs and the really cool scar along one and he missed half of what Jason was saying in between the smile he was trying to hide. 

That didn’t matter very much though, because Leo was struck with the best idea in the history of children born of the literal ideas god. Well, maybe that was Athena, not Hephestus, but your parents were a problem for later. Way later. Like when you’d decided Leo was more than just a rock stuck in your shoe.  

That was something he could work on though. 

He just had to impress you so much that you’d agree to go out with him. Building something cool would be the immediate option, but he built cool things everyday. It wasn’t easy, per-say, but it wasn’t a date-worthy achievement.  

Piper snapped her fingers in front of his face and Leo jerked his head back, “huh? Sorry I was just thinking…”

“About what? Finally giving up on-”

“Imma single handedly win capture the flag!”

»»————-　★　————-««

You handed out the last of the helmets, blue plumes dotting the crowd of demigods jostling around and yelling about lice and how their butterfly clips wouldn’t fit underneath the bronze. 

You chose to ignore those ones and turned back to the little canvas tent someone had dragged out from Bunker 9 to set up base in, even though it couldn’t be used during the actual game. You weren’t actually sure what the point of it was, but Clarrise deemed it necessary, and you decided not to argue with her, in the interest of living.

The Athena cabin had managed to swoop in and ally with the Ares cabin before Connor got there, so you managed to rein in the help of Butch and his siblings [which meant that the Red team would have quite a few problems involving pegasi droppings in the hours to come], the two twins of Nike, the Dionysus and Hebe kids, as well as the smattering of Aphrodite kids that were ready to get blood under their perfectly done nails. A few of them seemed too happy about that prospect, but Drew had heart shaped arrows and Charmspeak, so you ignored the fact Lacey was singing about chopping off heads. 

Annabeth propped her sneakers up on the table, smudging mud on the map of the forest as she did so, to tie up her laces. “So, we’ve got puddles of pegasi shit under the leaves, I asked Holly and Laurel who could make the most nets so we’ll have enough to trap most of the Hermes cabin under by the time we start, and then Clarrise and her lot can just heavily maim the rest.”

“Nice,” you noted, and pushed the coloured pins for each demigod wiping blue warpaint across their cheeks around the map to their places. “We’re against Will’s dickwits, so they’ll do that thing and keep the sun behind them to blind everyone on our team.”

Annabeth fiddled with her camp necklace and glared at the map. “ And what are we supposed to do to counter that? Ask Apollo to take the day off??

“Start handing out sunglasses.”

Someone dragged a bucking gray pegasi through the opening to the canvas tent and chaos broke out, Butch yelling orders at a group of Dionysus kids who began feeding the freaked out mare shiraz. 

You turned away before you were lumped with the task of dealing with them, and reached for your axe. A sticky note fell off, the yellow paper floating to the ground. 

Hi hi so if i win capture the flag by myself then will you go out with me also i cant ask you this in person because jasons teaching me how to use a sword and im about to run out of sticky note and now ive forgotten what i was trying to say

The note ended there, and you frowned, trying to ignore the twitch at your lips when you turned the greasy crinkled paper over. 

right yeah this is leo by the way you probably already figured that out cause no one else is smart enough to beat all of camp to go out with you the flying horse distraction was my idea too by the way im a genius you should definitely go out with me okay now im out of pa

“Who’s the person?”

You nearly decapitated Drew in that moment. You lowered your axe and shoved the note in the back of your pocket that you only just remembered wasn’t there, courtesy of the armor you’d donned. “What are you talking about?”

“The love note,” she insisted with a curious smirk, lipgloss shining. “They sounded pretty excited and now you’re making that face oh my god you actually like them back!” 

“Do not!” You snapped back, tightening your shoulder guard and hefting your bloodied axe over you shoulder. The pegasi was led out of the tent as you shooed Drew in the same direction. “Now go back to your station, we’re starting in five.”

She squinted at you for a second, then her eyes widened as he jaw dropped. “Leo!”

You blinked, wrinkling your nose. “Okay how did you even-”

“Seeya later!” Drew called over her shoulder, skipping away with Butch to find her section of the woods to patrol, her assigned heart shaped sunglasses slipping down her nose. 

You narrowed your eyes at her retreating figure, but then one of Clarisse's sisters was wondering if the no killing rule had changed in the last four minutes and you were promptly distracted. 

»»————-　★　————-««

“Why don’t you just run along there and turn Travis into a toddler for me?” You asked a son of Hebe who nodded solemnly and disappeared into the trees. Light dappled the leaves on the ground and once you’d ordered around the rest of the soldiers in training, the bellowing horn sounded. 

A tense silence filled the woods, no one daring to make the first move and startle the spies out of their trees and the runners from their starting places. You pushed the cat eyed sunglasses up your nose and adjusted your sweaty grip on the axe, which must have weighed as much as the Hebe boy you’d just sent on his way. 

Blue streaked the sky behind the clouds, but the blue you were concerned about fluttered peacefully in the wind from where the flag had been nestled in Zeus’s fist. 

From what you’d planned, the Nike twins should be hiding in the two pine trees in font of you that had grown on either side of the track you knew the red team would take, nets between them ready to trap the enemy. Drew was placed behind you with her bow and arrows, ready to take down anyone that made it past Holly and Laurel. 

And if the lucky little fucker made it any further, you had your axe ready.

The rest of your team, save the Ares kids bordering the river, who were ready to maim but not kill, were causing a distraction that included a lot of grapevines and a reenactment of the Hamilton Musical [the second half was to be acted out at the campfire later that night]. It was sure to distract the Apollo cabin while  Annabeth donned her blue Yankees hat and snuck through. 

The only way it could go wrong at this point, is if a certain fluffy haired pointy eared son of Hephestus went through with his sticky note proposition and burned down the entire woods. 

Considering the fact he’d challenged you to a duel four times this week, you wouldn’t be surprised. Not that you minded. His concentrating face was sort of cute, especially when he stuck his tongue out a little and that time you’d pinned him to the sawdust covered ground you’d realized he actually had a few little freckles along his nose. 

And he really liked strawberries. That you could admire. 

Okay, maybe you looked forward to whatever proposition he’d set up at breakfast each day, but it mainly had to do with the presents. And definitely not that grin he’d get when you agreed.

If he won this game of capture the flag, which was impossible for one demigod anyway, and you did go out with him, you’d get to see that smile times one thousand. It sort of made you want him to win.

Then you shook the thought from your helmet cladden head. Your team was going to win this, and you’d stab Leo yourself to do so. 

Lightly, though. 

He still had that crackly laugh you could place from across the dining pavilion, you couldn’t kill him. It made your brain melt for a moment, which wasn’t something a daughter of Athena needed. But, he was a certified genius. Maybe that would even it out. 

»»————-　★　————-««

“Where the fuck is Drew?” You yelled into the forest around you, but only the crickets and startled squawking birds answered. Metal clanged and the crickets were silenced when your Axe thudded against a tree, handle first. 

Austin smirked, and his bow knocked into your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise you could already feel forming. 

You ducked another blow and stumbled back, stumbling a tight ring around the sun of Apollo to get back to your weapon, glancing around the clearing as you did so. Holly and Laurel were nowhere to be seen, and there were certainly no nets to help you out in the one on one ambush. 

You’d been waiting around for some action when suddenly there was a lot but still not enough, because apparently everyone on the blue team had decided they’d rather fall asleep in their stations than help you. Even without them you could hold up your own, grabbing your axe and swinging it around at Austin when he came back for seconds. The arrow in his hand seemed less scary once his bow was in two splintered pieces at your feet.

He stepped back, face falling, and the daisies crushed underfoot sprung back into their slightly crumpled places when he backed away properly, turning to where the blue flag was still untouched on the top of Zeus’s fist. 

You paused, lowering the axe in confusion once he called out to nothing, “Oi! Move it loverboy, I’m running out of time!” 

Then you froze, because of course somehow, against all odds, a panting Leo was clambering up the highest point with the red flag in one tightly closed hand and a second later he was holding the blue one above his head victoriously as well, a stupidly wide grin on his cute face. 

He let out a yelp as pebbles began to slide around his feet but then you couldn’t see him anymore, pushed to the back of the crowd by a stampede of yelling demigods brandishing weapons.

It took you a second to realize they were cheers and not war cries [the difference was hard to make out most of the time], so you weaved through some Hermes kids who were chatting animatedly and a Demeter girl with a stump where her arm had been. Will rushed along behind you to her side once you’d gotten past both teams of the now over capture the flag game. 

“What the fuck is this?” You yelled up at Leo, who sent you a double thumbs up and then began hopping down the pile of boulders, the flags now held with his crooked teeth.

You squinted up at him, watching his green army jacket get caught on an overhanging branch and then when he jumped down finally, you were there to cross your arms and glare at him.

“Sup?” he smirked, holding his hands behind his back and rocking on his feet. “Did you get my note?”

Apparently he guessed your answer through your facial expression and then held up the flags like an offering. You ignored a fatal sounding screech from an Aphrodite boy in the distance as Leo chewed his lip. “So…. I won!” 

“And how, exactly?” 

Leo glanced to the side, and you followed his gaze to a smirking daughter of Aphrodite, who’s hoop earrings shined with blood that definitely wasn’t hers, judging from Drew’s satisfied expression. He then pulled out another crumpled up sticky note from his jacket, which was stained with something dark. He read out in a stilted tone, “I have to make a flamethrower, a chariot with poison shooting arrows, a two real life hoverboards, about thirty pairs of water, lava, and acid proof headphones, and a few jetpacks.”

“Right,” you muttered, tilting your head at Leo.

 He blinked obliviously at you and tucked away his extensive list, probably not able to hear you speak over the yelling crowds that bustled around carrying bandages and broken weapons, already busying themselves with the aftermath of the set up blood-bath.  

“It was worth it,” he shrugged, “but I’ll be stuck in bunker nine for the rest of the my life.”

“Maybe you can take a day off.” You unfolded your arms, resigned to the fact all of Camp Halfblood was about to witness this. Then you stepped forwards a little and leant in to whisper in his pointed ear. “...Y’know, for our date.” 

Leo blinked.

“Someone get the Leo extinguisher!” A Hebe kid yelled, and there was a general uproar of chaos from everyone but you weren’t really paying attention because Leo had patted down his flaming torso quickly, only that didn’t change the color of his face back to normal.

He narrowed his eyes, but the grin had never faded and you could see his fingers tapping along his thighs a thousand miles an hour. “You serious?”  

You nodded.

“DID YA HEAR THAT?” He yelled at the crowd of teenagers, cupping his mouth with a scarred hand, “I GOT A HOT DATE YALL!” 

“Don’t make me regret it,” you muttered back, rolling your eyes, but when Leo smiled up at you you knew you’d never regret it, so instead you just smiled back, shoving your hands in your pockets while Piper started screaming from Jason’s shoulders. 

Leo clapped his hands eagerly, “great, now you gotta carry me.”

“That’s cringe.”

“I’m being serious,” he said and held his arms up so you could grab him bridal style. You paused for a moment and then resigned yourself to the fact this might be the rest of your life. It wasn’t too bad, you realized, when Leo wrapped his arms around your neck and pointed in the direction of Will triumphantly. “Forward, sexy steed!” 

“One, if you ever call me that again, I will literally throw you off a cliff, and two, why do we have to get to WIll?” You asked as you carried him through the crowd in the direction of the stressed out blonde anyway.

“Cause Clarrise stabbed me in exchange for letting me win.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶'𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗲

paring: amy march x fem!reader

tag(s): fluffy angst (if you know what i mean lol), period piece, i love amy so much, sister's best friend (from amy's pov), wlw couple, beth and amy are the best, i love them so much

warning(s): internal homophobia (i guess), grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: this is kinda like a surprise fic, or at least I hope so lol. I've been thinking about Amy a lot lately and I somehow came up with this fic. It's kinda based on that line from 'girls' by Girl in red ("They're so pretty it hurts | I'm not talking 'bout boys, I'm talking about girls"). I really hope you all like some Amy content. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Lot of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Amy's brows were furrowed, deep in concentration, as the pencil in between her fingers traced the shape of a familiar soft pair of eyes. 

"Hello, dear Amy," she heard your voice before receiving a quick kiss to her cheek. 

"Good morning, Y/n," she said, carefully hiding her drawing from your prying eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by you. 

"What do you have there?" you asked her, raising your brow. 

"I, um, nothing. Well, at least not yet," Amy quickly mumbled, but you had already caught up on her lie. 

"If it is nothing, why are you hiding it from me?" you squinted your eyes at her. 

"Y/n? Is that you?" you heard your best friend, Beth, said, walking down the stairs. "Yes, I knew I had heard you. Shall we go?" 

"Yes, we shall," you said, making your way toward Beth. "This is not over, Ms March. I will come back and I will have answers," you playfully muttered to the blond girl before leaving with the red head. 

Once she made sure you had walked out the door, Amy felt like she could properly breathe again. There it was again, that funny feeling in her tummy she always felt whenever you were around her, whenever you just looked at her way, whenever you complimented her drawings, whenever you made her laugh.

She didn't know what it meant, she had never felt that way before. You were her sister's dearest friend, Amy practically knew you from your whole life, you were always around. But ever since the last couple of months it all felt different. It didn't feel right to call you a friend anymore, friend was like a short word for all the feelings you caused inside her. 

She got back to her drawing, well, your drawing since she was actually drawing you. As the pencil traced the shape of your lips she found herself staring at the paper more than she would like to admit. She blinked, realising how wrong it was. You were a girl, for god’s sake. And not just any girl but her friend, her sister's friend. She shook her head trying to clear up her mind. 

“Amy, is everything okay?” Marmee asked her. 

“What?” Amy said, confused. “Oh, yes, yes. I’m fine, Marmee. I just think I need some air, that’s all,” the blonde smiled at her.

So she went out on a walk, to clear her mind. But she could not do that, you plagued her mind enabling her to think about anything else. Your soft kind eyes, your perfect lips, your loud laugh, your bright smile. And she realised that it was not normal for her to feel that way, that it was wrong and sick and twisted. But she couldn't help herself, not when it came to your warm-hearted soul. 

[...]

“Beth? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” the redhead nodded to her sister, moving to the side to let Amy sit next to her on the divan. 

“I have a confession to make,” Amy breathed in, not actually believing she was about to tell her sister her truth. 

Beth sat up straight, showing her sister she was listening carefully, “I think I know where this is going…” she muttered. 

“You do?” Amy worrily asked as Beth could only nod. “...so pretty it hurts,” Amy said as she huffed, making Beth not understand the first part but it was all clear to her really. 

“Amy,” she kindly placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I know you like Laurie, but you and I both know that he likes Jo,” she felt sorry for her sister, she didn’t deserve to love someone who didn’t love her back. 

“Laurie?” Amy’s brows furrowed. “I’m not talking about Laurie, I’m talking about Y/n.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh,” she repeated herself as the words sank deep into her brain. 

“I know, it’s wrong, is it not? Y/n, of all people,” Amy sobbed. “A girl, Beth. How can I like a girl? It’s not possible, it’s not natural, it isn’t right,” tears were running down her cheeks. “It’s making me sick you know, everytime I look at her my stomach feels all weird,” she sniffed, and realised her sister hadn’t said a word. “You really think I’m sick, don’t you?” Amy cried. 

“No, no, no, Amy,” Beth was fast to comfort her as she was done processing what her sister had just told her. “You’re not sick Amy,” she said as she wiped away Amy’s tears. “Loving someone can never mean you are sick. That’s what it means, you know?” she wrapped her arms around her sister, afraid she would break into a million pieces. “That funny weird feeling on your stomach means that you love her. You love Y/n, and there’s nothing wrong with that,” she caressed her hair, offering the blonde some comfort. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

The room went quiet as Beth’s words linger around Amy’s mind. She was not sick, she was in love. She smiled to herself, she was in love. 

“I can’t confirm nor deny, but I think she feels the same for you.”

“What?” Amy said, turning her head to Beth.

“She didn’t say anything, but I know her, I can tell,” Beth smiled as Amy’s eyes seemed to brighten up. “She’s constantly asking about you, it tends to be annoying really.”

“Well, I’m your sister. Maybe  she feels obliged to know about your family.”

“But it’s different. She always compliments your drawings, even when you’re not around. She smiles everytime I talk about you, that doesn’t happen when I talk about Meg or Jo,” Beth clarified. “She just nods when I talk about Jo’s stories, but when I tell her about you, her eyes light up and she can’t stop smiling.”

“Maybe because she’s so kind.”

“Or maybe because she’s in love with you, Amy,” Beth chucked. “I see the way she’s around you. She always finds an excuse to be next to you or for her hands to reach out for you.”

“Beth, I… I don’t think—.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask her myself.”

“What?!” Amy sat up straight. “No, you won’t. I forbid it.”

Beth raised her arms in surrender, a smile forming on her lips. “Alright, I won’t,” Amy squinted her eyes at her. “I won’t,” Beth repeated. “I won’t tell her anything about how you feel. I promise.”

And she did keep her promise, until you got in the way.

[...]

You were running as fast as your feet could carry you, the cold had been long forgotten since there was only one thing on your mind. More like someone.

Your loud and consistent knocking startled the four March woman.

“Y/n,” Marmee opened the door. Her face dropped as she realised you were there, banging at her door in the middle of the night, concern written all over your face and her daughter was nowhere to be seen. Her hand clutched at her chest, “Is everything alright? Did something happen to Beth?”

At the mention of her sister’s names the other three March women raised their heads, afraid that something had happened to their little sister. 

“No, I’m sorry,” you cursed yourself for being so careless, you probably had freaked them out. “She’s at home sleeping, she’s fine, I promise. I’m sorry, Marmee. I know it’s late, I shouldn’t have come I—,” you eyes took a look inside and landed on Amy’s. 

“It’s okay, dear. What’s the matter? Are you alright?” she placed a hand on your shoulder drawing your attention back to her. 

“Yes, I am. I just… Would it be okay if I talk to Amy?” Amy’s heart dropped, she feared the worst. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Yes, of course, dear. Come on in,” Marmee warmly smiled at you, somehow reassuring you that everything would be okay. “Amy, there's someone here to see you. Let’s go girl,” she called out for Jo and Meg, who waved at you before leaving the room.

You scratched your neck, looking for the right words. “I, um, I—.”

“She told you, didn't she?” but Amy was quicker than you.

“Not quite. I sort of forced her to,” you admitted. “Please, don’t be mad at her, I—.”

“I’m not mad at her,” Amy scoffed. She sounded bitter, angry even. “I’m mad at myself. How could I let this happen?” and the tears she desperately had been holding back finally started to roll down her cheeks as she let herself fall on the divan.

“What do you mean?” you softly asked her as you took a seat next to her. 

“This is wrong and you know it,” she sobbed. “It’s not natural for a woman to feel like this towards another woman,” she whispered, too scared her family would hear how sick she was inside. “I know Beth said that it was fine, but it’s really not. I—.”

“It could never be wrong to love you, Amy,” you cut her off, letting out the words you have been holding back for years now.

“But Y/n—,” you stopped her once again. 

“I do not want to hear it, Amy. I love you,” you felt like a weight had been lifted up from your shoulder, you felt as if you were finally free to live your truth. “From the moment I saw you drawing that beautiful tree, I…,” you stepped closer, taking her hands in between yours. “I knew that it was you who I wanted, who I want and will want until my last breath on this earth.”

“But Y/n—.”

“Amy!” you wanted her to stop, you couldn’t handle her harsh words anymore, it almost felt like she had taken your heart out of your chest and you were wishing she wouldn’t tear it apart. “Do you love me?”

“I do,” she whispered, still she sounded unsure. She breathed, trying to get her heat beat at a normal pace, “I do,” this time she sounded more convinced of her own words. “I do love you, Y/n,” she repeated herself once more, just to assure the both of you that she really did mean it. 

You finally felt like you could breathe properly and you felt your heart beating inside your chest once again, all it one piece. 

“Good,” you said with a smile on your face before crashing your lips into hers in a much needed kiss. 

Her lips felt exactly how you had imagined they would but still they had that spark of being new to your touch. Her lips were soft and warm, and moved perfectly in sync with yours, as if Amy herself had also imagined this exact moment over and over again and knew exactly what to do. As you slowly pushed your tongue past her lips, a moan escaped from her mouth. She quickly pulled back as soon as she had heard herself. 

“Marmee and my sisters are in the next room,” she whispered to you as she leaned her forehead against yours. 

“I guess we’ll have to reschedule,” you joked, as your nose brushed against hers. 

“I guess so,” she smiled at you pecking your lips one more time.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M