#beth x townes

[nestaenthusiast]

Is there an active fandom for the Queens Gambit cause I just had my 3rd rewatch of the show and I have no one to talk to about it😭😭

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

After finishing The Queen’s Gambit, I can’t stop thinking about Beth and Townes. But OF COURSE there’s severely slim pickings in the fandom for them (I just had to fall in love with the pairing that has virtually zero content), AND anything I do find is for “platonic only” soooo….don’t mind me, just sliding my older man/younger woman smutty fic ideas out of sight 🙃

[juuuuunaaaaaooooo]

I AM NOT CRYING THIS IS NOT TRUE (BRIO IS ENDGAME <3)

[threadbaresweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan x reader

Arthur doesn't think you're interested in him any more than you're interested in fishing, which ain't much. You hope he shares even an inkling of the feelings you have for him. It's no surprise to anyone else in camp that there's something between the two of you, and they make sure you get a chance to show each other how you really feel.

The details: 3.9k words. Female reader with a backstory that isn't really elaborated upon in this fic but might be at a later date if I have the spoons; several gang members act as side-characters/wingmen (and women); alcohol and cigarette use; sex (pretty vanilla, but a little rough and intense). NSFW. This is also my first fic for a new fandom, so please be gentle with me. It's been a while.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now. 

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs. 

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess. 

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?” 

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house. 

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight. 

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers. 

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch. 

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips. 

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench. 

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…” 

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.” 

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road. 

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.” 

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.” 

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed. 

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above. 

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours. 

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him. 

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible. 

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grab at each other like it's the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you want more than what the other of you is able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[vigilante-3073]

Tree-hugger

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

PART 1

Summary: Daryl meets his match when traveling through the woods with Beth.

TW: Flirting, guns, fluff.

Daryl and Beth made their way through the woods in the direction of a small town. The group had been running low on supplies and sent Daryl up the road to see what he could find. Daryl was sure that it would be a waste of a few hours, the shops had likely been cleared out a long time ago. The only thing that kept him moving was the possibility of an auto shop.

His bike was getting old and would likely need replacement parts sooner rather than later.

"Daryl, look," Beth chirped suddenly.

Daryl looked up from the uneven terrain, following her gaze to a motorcycle parked at the base of a tree.

Maybe it was his lucky day after all.

"Looks like it still runs. You could probably get some good parts," Beth said.

Daryl nodded with a grunt, his eyes scanning the area warily as he made his way over.

Daryl reached out towards the bike, freezing in place when he heard a gun cock.

"Hands off the bike, sugar," Someone said.

Daryl stepped back and looked around, crossbow aimed at the trees around them. Beth pulled out her gun, staying close to Daryl's side.

"Up here, big guy," The voice called again.

Daryl and Beth looked up, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight.

"Holy shit," Daryl muttered when he spotted her.

The woman was up in a tree with a rifle pointed down at them.

"Sorry, thought it was up for grabs," Daryl said, eyes dropping to the bike before returning to the person in the tree.

"Well, it's not," She stated.

"It's a nice bike," Daryl said.

"I take good care of my things," She replied.

Daryl nodded, "Let's get out of here," He muttered before taking a step away from the motorcycle.

"We were just wonderin' if-" "Don't," Daryl said sternly.

"If she wanted to kill us we'd be dead already," Beth pointed out, tucking her gun away.

"She's right," The woman stated.

"Do you know if there's anywhere closeby where we can find parts for a bike like that?" Beth questioned, tilting her head towards the bike.

The woman lowered her gun, "There's an auto parts store about three miles East of here. Found it when I blew one of my shocks a while back," She said.

"Thanks," Beth smiled before lookig over at Daryl, "Now we can go," She said.

"Be careful, there was a herd of almost forty dead headed that way a few days ago. It would be a damn shame to see something happen to a handsome man like you over something as trivial as a bike part," The woman said, eyes running over him appreciatively.

"No way," Beth grinned.

"Shut up," Daryl muttered, his cheeks flushing at the compliment.

"I'm Beth and he's Daryl," Beth said.

"Let's go. Now," Daryl grumbled, walking in the direction of the town.

"I'm Y/N. It was nice meeting you, Daryl," Y/N called.

"It was nice meetin' you too, Y/N," Beth said, turning around and running after Daryl.

...

Daryl managed to cross paths with Y/N a few more times over the next few weeks. She moved around the area frequently and spent an alarming amount of time up in the trees. Y/N told him that it was safer than being on the ground and he was inclined to agree with her.

Rick and Daryl had decided to go out on a run to the nearest town in one of the cars. They were looking to stock up on cans and non-perishables for the upcoming months.

Rick parked in front of the shop before the pair slowly made their way up to the door. The small bell above the door jingled as they pushed it open. The men hesitated for a second, silently listening for movement before stepping into the store.

They moved across the room, scanning the area with weapons. Rick and Daryl shared a look before silently parting ways and searching the rest of the store.

Rick caught Daryl's gaze over the shelves before tilting his head towards the back room. Daryl nodded, continuing his search of the aisles.

Daryl froze when he heard a noise, a soft rustling sound from down one of the aisles. He stepped around the corner quickly, crossbow raised and ready to shoot.

"Long time no see, stranger," Y/N stated casually, staring down at the dented can in her hand.

"Jesus, Y/N. I coulda killed your ass," Daryl huffed, lowering his crossbow as he made his way over to her.

"Cute and funny," She mused with a smile. Y/N grabbed two more cans from the metal shelf and tucked them into her backpack.

"You can call your friend back in here, honey. I already swept the place," Y/N stated, zipping up her backpack.

She lifted the backpack strap up onto her shoulder before grabbing her gun from the floor beside her.

Y/N stood up, slipping her arm into the other strap of her bag.

"You leavin'?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, but I left plenty of supplies for you," Y/N assured, Daryl nodded.

"See you around, Daryl," Y/N said, making her way over to the door.

"You know, it's startin' to get colder out," Daryl called after her.

"That tends to happen in the winter," She stated, pushing open the door.

"You should come back with us... There's food, warm water and some actual beds if you're lookin' for somethin' more comfortable than a tree branch," Daryl said.

He wasn't quite sure why he found himself pushing for her to come to the prison with them. Daryl barely knew the woman, but he did worry about how she would survive out in the woods during the winter.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't do groups," Y/N stated.

"You could set up camp in the area then... Good huntin' and we have supplies if you run out," Daryl suggested, fidgeting with his crossbow nervously.

"I just might take you up on that... As long as you come visit me," Y/N said, hand slipping from the door handle as she made her way back over to him.

"I can do that," Daryl nodded.

"Good... Because I'm starting to like you, Daryl," Y/N smiled.

[wileys-russo]

Please would you be able to write an awfc x teen!reader fic based on the photos of the girls playing Aussie rules today in training? Maybe a bit of annoying younger sister energy (kind of like kyra)! I love you stuff thank you for all of it :)

not completelyy happy with this but it was something different to try! drop kick II awfc x teen!r

"oh you're not bringing that are you?" steph sighed as you stretched over to grab the bright red ball from her back seat. "yeah! why not?" you grinned as the two of you stepped out of her car.

"well because we don't play afl we play football." steph shook her head, though she knew better than to even try and argue the case knowing all too well how stubborn you were.

"then it'll be a fun learning experience for the girls! wheres your australian spirit steffy?" you gave her a toothy grin, the older girl clearing her throat as you spun around. "forgetting something?" steph raised her eyebrow and subtly nodded to your bag.

"oh! yeah that might help." you grinned, jogging back and grabbing it, kissing stephs cheek in thanks who pushed you off with an amused roll of her eyes.

"all this time off and she's forgotten what sport we play!" caitlin teased watching you stuff the ball with some difficulty into your gym bag but eventually succeeding, ruffling your hair as you smacked her hand away.

"sorry hard launch i couldn't hear you over the massive closet of your latest relationship?" you cupped a hand over your ear as steph snickered and you grinned, though catching the look which flashed across caitlins face you wasted no time sprinting off.

"ya could have four legs and i'd still outpace you foordy!" you yelled over your shoulder as she gave up chasing you, pausing to fall back into step with steph and flipping you the finger.

"i'll get you later skippy just you wait! i know where you live!" caitlin yelled menacingly after you, and of course she would considering you bounced between her place and stephs, not allowed to get your own as much as you'd begged and pleaded.

you were so busy gloating you didn't watch where you were going and wheezed as your body slammed into someone elses. "speed racers back in town then! who we runnin from now?" jen grinned, hauling you up and over her shoulder.

"i've missed these delightful walks of ours jb." you patted her back affectionately feeling her body vibrate with laughter as you flipped caitlin the bird before jen turned a corner, earning yourself a disappointed look from steph.

"lee!" you called out happily as the two of you entered the change rooms and you spotted her sitting at her cubby dressed for training, the blonde looking up from her phone as jen put you down. "you're back training properly??" the taller girl stumbled a little at the speed in which you crashed into her for a hug.

"much as i can be. missed you skippy!" the blonde ruffled your hair, kissing your cheek and shoving you over toward lia who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, wrapping you in another tight hug.

"hi wally! happy new year." you mumbled into her shoulder making her laugh. "happy new year winzig, did you have a nice break?" the swiss woman walked you toward your cubby which was between kyra and vics.

"yes! god i miss australia so much already. the beaches, the tan, the food, my family. its cruel that i come from warm sunny beautiful summer to this, english winter fucking sucks!" you huffed unhappily, wincing as a hand collected the back of your head.

"language little miss. thats a fiver!" beth wagged her finger at you with a stern look as you rolled your eyes and hugged her girlfriend instead causing her to scoff. "what? you know i am her favourite." viv shrugged as beth made a noise of disbelief and you sent her a smug smile.

you hadn't even separated from the pair for more than five seconds before a body hurtled into you sending you flying, kyras body latched onto you as stina hurried to grab you, stopping you from hitting the floor.

"get off me you rat!" you wrenched off the girls hands and sent stina a grateful look who gave the pair of you an amused smile, turning back to her conversation with amanda.

"rat! you're the little rat, did you forget about the pictures of-" kyra started as your eyes widened and you hastily covered her mouth. "you swore on calvins life you would take that to the grave." you growled quietly, pulling your hand away in disgust as kyra licked it, wiping it on her jersey.

"but i'm the child? grow up cooney-cross." you scoffed, letting out a yell as again kyra leapt onto you, this time successfully taking you down to the ground as the two of you rolled around wrestling until you were seperated by leah and steph.

most of the girls having filed out toward the pitch and steph impatiently tapping her foot in waiting you hurried to get your boots on, grabbing the afl ball out afterward.

"you can't bring it to training." "why not?" "well-" "see, you can't even think of a good reason stephanie."

and with that you tucked it under your arm and strode out of the change rooms as steph groaned. "can you see any greys jenny? she's been back for three days and its already falling out from the stress!" steph huffed gesturing to her hair as the tall scottish woman chuckled and slung an arm over her should.

"what is that!" vic pulled a face as you appeared with the foreign looking ball. "aussie rules ball!" you beamed, kicking it at kyra who dove to catch it, earning yourself the attention of a few more of the girls who looked on curiously.

"right i'm game. give us a go then skippy!" leah clapped as you tossed her the ball and explained how to hold and position it to be drop kicked. "yeah yeah its a ball, i'm an athlete. i got it!" she brushed you off as you held your hands up and took a few steps back.

you slumped into lotte who appeared by your side, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. "go on lee while some of us are still young, kimmy might have to retire by the time you kick this thing." you grinned cheekily, hiding behind lotte at the look sent your way by your captain across the pitch.

"oh brilliant! she's a natural." you threw your head back with a laugh as leah completely missed, nearly kneeing herself in the face as the ball bounced away. "shut up!" the blonde warned you with a glare, hurrying to grab the ball again.

"show me again." leah demanded firmly as lotte let you go and you grabbed the ball. "oi ireland!" you yelled, katie looking up from her conversation with gio and grinning as you held up the ball and she readied herself to catch.

"like this." you huffed as you kicked the ball with all your might, the red leather sailing up into the air and right into katies awaiting arms. "you know i might need to recruit you to take some of my goal kicks. how much do you really like being a striker?" manu messed up your hair with a gloved hand as you pushed her away with a smile.

"how the fu-" leah shook her head as katie booted the ball toward caitlin perfectly. "its cause she's got a bit of aussie in her, literally." you smirked quietly, leah turning to you with wide shocked eyes at the comment.

"i'm telling steph to wash that filthy little mouth out with soap tonight skippy."

you barely heard her as you were already taking off racing toward kyra who was trying to teach gio how to kick, your body hurtling into hers. "tackle!" you cheered as kyra groaned from beneath you and you plucked the ball from her hand and took off again.

"they don't tackle in afl you little shit thats nrl!"

"nope!" you were suddenly off the ground again as caitlins arms wrapped around your waist and took you down to the ground, tossing the ball to katie and getting off of you.

"piggy in the middle!" you cheered happily jumping to your feet and racing off toward an unsuspecting cloe who was merely holding the ball, the blondes eyes widening as she hurried to toss the ball toward sabs who frowned in confusion before your body hurtled into hers.

"hey steph." the defender looked up from where she was watching you as jen appeared by her side.

"yeah mate, i can see those greys now."

[alotofpockets]

Necklace | Kyra Cooney-Cross

Pairing: Kyra Cooney-Cross x Arsenal!Reader

Summary: You give Kyra a necklace, so she'll always have a part of you with her when the two of you are apart.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

Before Kyra had joined Arsenal you had maybe played against her once or twice, besides that you hadn't really interacted. That all changed when she joined Arsenal. You got to know her as a teammate first. The way she played, the way she interacted with the team, and her passion for the sport that you both love. Then you got to know her as a friend. You truly got to know her then, it was like she came to life once she had found her place within the team.  And it didn't take long before the girl had charmed you with her bright smile, her kind eyes, and her witty personality. 

It had been a few months now since you had asked Kyra to be your girlfriend. Kyra had gone from being pretty much a stranger, to your person, and you couldn't be happier. The two of you talked about going public with your relationship, neither one of you minded the public knowing but also weren't keen on making it a big deal. Your friends and family knew you were together, and some fans had suspicions, though neither one of you had confirmed your relationship to the outside world yet. You never hide your relationship from the world either, you just didn't care what people thought, as long as you had each other.

So, when you arrived in town to check out a market with a few of your teammates, Kyra reached for your hand instantly and intertwined her fingers with yours. You walk around hand in hand, moving from stand to stand with the rest of the girls.

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kyracooneyx just posted to their story

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When you walked past a jewelry stand your eyes instantly fell on a necklace that would be a perfect gift for Kyra, except she was standing right next to you. So, you continued walking to the next stand, and grabbed your phone to quickly send Caitlin a text, since you saw that she had her phone in her hand.

Y/n: Can you please distract Kyra for a moment? I want to buy her something

Caitlin: Say no more, I got you

And sure enough, not even a minute later Caitlin grabbed Kyra's arm, “You've got to come see this.” She looks over to you to check if you're coming with. You shake your head, and continue your conversation with Beth. With a squeeze to your hand, Kyra lets go and follows Caitlin.

You quickly turn around and head back to the jewelry stand. The necklace was beautiful, it was a gold necklace with a small golden heart. You knew it would match perfectly with the other jewelry pieces that she often wore. Before Kyra could get back you had purchased the necklace and asked Katie to store it in her bag for the time being. You wanted to give it to her later, privately.

The group of you continued walking around the market until you had seen all the stands. Since it was around lunch time Viv had suggested grabbing a bite to eat at one of the restaurants you had passed earlier.

Your group had settled at a table outside on their terrace, enjoying some more time together, just talking about everything and nothing.

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y/n_y/l/n just posted to their story

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You loved sharing little moments like this. Could fans still easily identify Kyra? Probably, but you didn't care. You were happy, and you wanted to share the moments that made you happy.

When you got back home, you wanted to give Kyra the surprise gift right away. You were never one for being patient with gift giving, you just wanted to see how Kyra liked it. “I got something for you at the market.” You tell her as you pull her towards the couch. "But I was there the whole time.” You wiggle your eyebrows, “I've got my ways, Cooney-Cross.” 

After your joke you become more serious. “I wanted to get you something to remind you of me, since the international break is almost over, and we'll be away from each other when we play for our own countries.” You hand her the box that you had gotten back from Katie when Kyra went to the bathroom at the restaurant.

“It's so beautiful, thank you so much. Can you help me put it on?” She hands you the necklace and turns her back to you. You place the necklace around her neck and place a few pecks on her neck once the clasp is closed. Like you thought, the necklace perfectly matched the rest of the jewelry that she was wearing. “I actually got something for you with the same reason.” She was up and running to get her gift before you could say anything.

She comes back with her hands behind her back. “It's not much compared to what you got me but I hope you'll like it.” She hands you a small stuffed animal koala bear wearing a tiny aussie jersey. “It's perfect, baby, I love it so much.” You hug the koala to your chest, “I'm gonna sleep with it every night that we're apart.” 

A few weeks later national team training was in full progress. At first your Lionesses teammates had made fun of you for sleeping with the stuffed animal but when they realized that their teasing didn't faze you, they quickly dropped the act. 

You facetimed Kyra as often as you could, which wasn't as much as you wanted to with the time difference and both of your busy schedules. Still even if you got to see her for a quick minute, your day was made. 

The Matildas were currently playing their first game after the break. They had flown to their away game against Sweden, meaning you would be able to watch the match from the hotel. A few of the girls had joined you to watch the match on the big screen in the conference hall. You loved watching your girlfriend play, she was amazing on every contact that she had with the ball. It didn't matter if it was while being her teammate at Arsenal, or when she played for her own country, you cheered just as loud when she scored a goal for Australia.

You knew she was going for the goal the moment you saw her eyes dart forward. She had Sam Kerr and Caitlin Foord to either side of the field, they both had defenders surrounding them. With her quick feet, she easily moved around the one defender that was shielding her before shooting the ball over the goalkeeper, just below the cross-bar. 

Kyra had the biggest smile on her face as she celebrated with her teammates. Once the embraces from her fellow Aussies were over she pulled out the necklace that was hanging under her jersey, and lifted it up to her lips. She kisses the necklace before putting it back under her jersey. You watch the moment with tears in your eyes. You knew you weren't going to live down the ‘softie’ comments but you didn't care. 

You hung around with your teammates a bit longer, and soon after your phone notified you that Kyra was facetiming you. “Hi baby,” You say enthusiastically, “You played so well!” Her smile widens, “You watched the match?” Her teammates' voices were heard in the background of the call. You felt very loved by the fact that the first thing she wanted to do after a win was to call you. “Of course, I wouldn't miss my girl playing.” She started getting more excited. “Did you see my goal celebration?” 

You smile at her eagerness, “Yes, I loved it very much, Ky.” From behind you Leah yells, “It made her cry!” You try to shush her but Kyra had already heard. “Why did it make you cry?” You roll your eyes at Leah for exposing you. “Good tears, baby, it was just really sweet.” Kyra seemed to relax after hearing that you were okay. “But hey, you should go celebrate with your team. I love you, Ky. Text me later?” She nods, “I love you too.”

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[jflemings]

— run

pairing: kyra cooney cross x reader

synopsis: you and kyra continue to love eachother in secret

warnings: none

a/n: i had this fic pretty much finished before tumblr DELETED it i’m so pissed

♫ what’s queued masterlist

Give me the keys, I'll bring the car back around

We shouldn't be in this town

pelting rain outlines kyra’s silhouette as she jogs down the street to your car. one hand holds her hood on top of her head whilst the other is tucked in her pocket in an effort to fend off the biting cold.

your headlights illuminate her as she gets close, giving you a full view of her cold-bitten face and slightly shivering form. as she approaches your passenger door you quickly open it for her and she slides in easily before hastily closing the door behind her. she peels off her rain-soaked hoodie and throws it in your backseat, reaching behind you to grab her green white fox hoodie she had thrown back there one afternoon.

“sorry, i couldn’t get away from them” she apologised with an annoyed pout “caitlin wouldn’t let me leave without asking a million questions”

you smirk and begin to drive whilst turning up the heat and pressing play on your shared playlist. as you pass beth and viv’s place you see multiple shadows crowding the window, the arsenal women practically on top of eachother trying to get a look at where kyra was rushing of to.

the midfielder beside you ducks her head down and sinks down in her seat “don’t let them see me” she mumbles

you pat her thigh and laugh “don’t worry ky, i’m sure they didn’t see you just slide down in your seat” you tease with a laugh.

she pouts again and furrows her brows “they’re all so nosy! i couldn’t get away quick enough”

“they’re just curious kyra” you half heartedly defend “it’s not like you’re subtle”

kyra holds her hands in front of the heat in an attempt to warm them up faster, the quick change in temperature making a shiver run down her spine “i’m subtle!” she argues “they wouldn’t even think anything is different if leah hadn’t loudly announced that she thought i was secretly seeing someone”

you let your head fall back against your seat as you come to a stop at a red light “you didn’t help your case by going bright red”

“i didn’t mean to!”

you can’t help but laugh at her exasperated expression. the thought of her club teammates finally knowing about you let loose a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, the nervousness almost being too thick to swallow.

“it’s okay ky” you assure softly “it was bound to happen”

“you’re not mad?” she asks shyly

you turn to her and place your hand on the bottom of her jaw, half on her neck. your thumb caresses her freckled cheek slowly “no i’m not mad”

she takes your hand off her neck and kisses your knuckles delicately, her lips softly touching each of them before she joins your hands and places them on her thigh. kyra hums contentedly and faces you “sorry for the hassle”

“no hassle at all. i get to have you to myself for a few days, i’m as happy as can be” you squeeze her hand twice “and we’re long overdue for a small getaway”

And my so-called friends, they don't know

I'd drive away before I let you go

“you just don’t know her like i do”

you best friend rolls her eyes from where she’s sitting on her bed “you said that about the last girl you dated and we know how that turned out”

you furrow your brows “that’s not fair” you defend pointedly, your blood beginning to boil at the thought of kyra being compared to her.

“she won’t introduce you to her friends and you won’t let us meet her! for all we know she’s a bitch who’s just gonna fuck you over” she throws her hands out slightly “all i’m asking is for you to hear me out”

“and all i’m asking is for you to understand that kyra isn’t like that” you huff, beginning to grab your things “it’s not fair that you compare my past relationship to her when you don’t know anything”

your friend kicks her legs out and flips down onto her bed, sighing deeply as she puts her hand behind her head “i’m looking out for you, i know how you get with relationships.”

the low blow comment is your tipping point. you can’t tell if you’re angry because she’s right or because she’s voicing her opinion on something she knows absolutely nothing about.

it was true, kyra wouldn’t introduce you to her friends, but her reasoning had always been that she’s selfish. she’s so selfish that she doesn’t want to share any of you with anyone, not even steph or caitlin or lessi, kyra wants you all to herself. you didn’t even know if they knew you existed but you didn’t really care because the australian had completely encapsulated your mind and overtaken your body. she had wrapped herself around you like plated gold, made you shiny and new and worth something. at least in your eyes.

wordlessly you stand, takeaway coffee cup in hand, and push your seat in loudly. her eyes follow you as your chest rises and falls with frustration, confusion painted on her features.

“i love kyra, and she has proven that she loves me. that should be enough for you because it’s enough for me” you spit, turning on your heel without anymore argument and walking yourself out to your car.

There's a chain 'round your throat, piece of paper where I wrote

"I'll wait for you"

kyra unclasps the dainty, gold heart locket around her neck. she fiddles with it for a moment, making sure that it doesn’t tangle, before placing it down in her cubby safely. it twinkles under the bright light of the change rooms and for a moment, the small piece of jewellery has all her attention.

she smiles when she thinks about what’s hidden inside the locket. the small photo of the two of you and an even smaller note you left for her before the last international break.

i’ll wait for you was written in your handwriting and kept around her neck, the words being an unspoken declaration of your love.

you had slipped the paper in there the night before she had to jet off to play uzbekistan when she was at the height of her uneasiness regarding your blossoming relationship. guilt had sunk it’s teeth into kyra when charli had made a harmless joke about her sneaking around with someone and just being too embarrassed to tell anyone about it. her mind had raced and wondered if you felt the same, wondered if you thought that she was embarrassed by you.

in the bright moonlight your eyes had shone and she had expressed to you that it wasn’t embarrassment that was keeping her from publicly being with you, it was selfishness and fear. she had choked through the words and fought back tears as she explained and you, in all your angel-like glory, had just softly put a hand on her face and smiled understandingly.

you then tore off the corner of a page from your journal and wrote those four words, handing it to kyra “put this in your locket, so you’ll always know” you whispered to her softly.

she looked at you curiously, her tired eyes conveying confusion before realisation dawns on her. she sits up and opens the locket around her throat, slipping in the message before securing it with a small, almost mute click.

she smiles at the memory, getting lost in the moment just as victoria stands next to her. vic knocks their shoulders together affectionately “that’s a really pretty necklace” she compliments

kyra nods gratefully “thanks, it’s my good luck charm”

“from your mum?” vic asks curiously “i noticed you wearing it after christmas”

“no” kyra says quietly “just from a friend”

the dutch woman nods and smiles secretly like she knows something no one else does “i’d love to meet this friend, if i could”

kyra begs to blush before wiping her face with the collar of her shirt “i’ll, um, i’ll talk to her. she’d love to meet you too” the australian smiles softly, mimicking her friend’s earlier affectionate gesture and knocking their shoulders together again.

So you laugh like a child

And I'll sing like no one cares

kyra lifts the conti cup trophy with her teammates, the australian flag draped over her shoulders flutters with her movements as she bounds around with alessia.

she’s thrown her head back in a joyous laugh and points out to the singing crowd, north london forever echoing off the stands and into the sky. you sit surrounded by a sea of red and white, the passion and love that’s held for this club blooming more and more in your chest the louder you sing.

seeing the young woman you love so full of joy and pride makes your heart swell and burst over and over again. winning a piece of silverware during her first wsl season had been a topic that you two had spoken about during the late hours of the night after she’d let you know her fears of not performing well. the pressure had been crushing her from the minute she debuted, the australian midfielder had been desperate to live up to her world cup performance and she vowed that every minute she got on the pitch would be impactful and meaningful.

her hard work and determination had payed off. the fear, anxiety and unease had finally lifted off of kyra’s chest and mind and now she was lifting a trophy.

in the midst of the chaos she finds you wearing one of her worn jerseys and singing your little heart out. she can’t help but smile as she jogs over to you and jumps into your arms as best she can, her breath fanning over the shell of your ear as she speaks directly into it

“my good luck charm” she whispers before pulling away from you grinning wide “thank you for being here”

“there’s no where else i’d rather be” you assure her with a soft smile, your eyes scanning her flushed freckled face lovingly. your hands move from her shoulder blades to her collarbones, fingertips slipping under her shirt slightly “i love you” you whisper to her.

a blush creeps over kyra’s face and she looks down shyly “i love you too” she murmurs back to you, quickly looking over her shoulder before looking into your eyes “dinner tonight?”

“your place” you nod before pushing her back towards the pitch and her awaiting teammates. she smiles cheekily at you before turning around and running back to her beloved teammates, your smile playing on her mind.

There's a heart on your sleeve

I'll take it when I leave

And hold it for you

kyra traces over the heart tattoo on your bicep, her finger outlining the shape delicately over and over again. she knows she should really be getting up but the sight of you laying on your stomach tucked under her covers leaves her wanting to stay where she is for just a little longer.

your eyes flutter open gently and you stir slightly, snuggling yourself further into kyra’s side and soft sheets “coffee?” you rasp out

“in a little bit” the midfielder responds “i want to stay here with you for as long as i can”

humming, you pull the covers tightly over both of your shoulders in a cocoon-like fashion, the comforter creating a barrier between you and the outside world. kyra continues to trace the heart etched into your arm, her mindless outlining lulling her into a dazed trance.

“i love you” she mumbles into her sheets before slowly sitting up. she throws one leg over the edge of the bed whilst the other stays half crossed, her shoulders sag and she rubs her hands over her face before turning on the bedside lamp.

“say it again” you instruct her, loving the way the words easily roll off her tongue

she tiredly smirks at you and leans down, tucking her chin in the crook of your neck. her hair tickles your ears as she snuggles against you “i love you” she murmurs into your neck, her lips pressing feather light kisses to your warm skin.

pushing yourself up off the bed, you too sit up momentarily before sliding off of kyra’s bed. you hold your hands out to her “c’mon stargirl, coffee time”

the australian pouts but takes your hands anyway, allowing you to pull her up and into you. she continues to wear a slight frown even as you go to walk out of her room and she digs her heels into the floor, stopping you in your tracks.

“what?”

“you didn’t say it back”

you smile endearingly at her “i love you too” using your interlocked hands you drag her back into your space, smiling when her hand subconsciously lands on your heart tattoo. your lips ghost hers “so much”

kyra closes the gap, capturing your lips with hers in a time stopping moment. when she pulls away from you her freckled cheeks are dusted pink, a common occurrence when she’s around you, and he’s wearing a dopey grin on her face despite the early morning.

“you’ve gotta get your shit together because steph will have your ass if you’re late to the airport”

“ruining the moment!”

Say you'll never let 'em tear us apart

And I'll hold onto you while we run

kyra slumps down in her seat, kicking her legs out in front of her as she buries her face in her phone.

it was your day off meaning that after kyra had finally left for the airport — much to her dismay — you had returned to the sanctuary that was her bed. with the knowledge that you’re tucked under her covers without her there, she frowns and huffs without thinking.

caitlin knocks her foot against kyra’s “what’s up your ass”

kyra’s head snaps to her teammate “nothing” she grumbles “just wanna go back to bed”

“leave the missus at home, did you?”

kyra freezes and she doesn’t dare look anywhere but her phone. the midfielder’s heart is beating out of her chest and she feels like she can’t breathe. caitlin sits awaiting an answer in her peripheral vision, an infuriating smirk that says ‘i knew it’ is planted on her face along with her ultra-lax aura that says she really doesn’t care even though kyra knows that this topic of conversation has been bugging her for months now.

“yes” she clips “she’s in bed all snuggled up and i’m sitting in an airport with you, so, i guess that’s what’s up my ass” kyra states bluntly

caitlin’s eyes damn near pop out of her head, the answer and the manner in which it was said surprising her “snippy” she mumbles amused “when can we meet her?”

“when i’m sure you’re not going to scare her off”

the forward rolls her eyes “if she’s been with you for this long then i highly doubt i’m going to be able to scare her off” she says, picking at her chipped nails “but i gotta make sure you’re not wearing rose coloured glasses ‘n all that”

kyra huffs and allows her phone to fall flat on her chest. she adjusts her position so her voice is clearer “i love you” she starts, gaining caitlin’s attention “but i also love her. and as much as i respect you, your opinion isn’t going to change that.”

a face splitting grin overtakes caitlin’s face, her blue eyes shining with pride as she looks at kyra. she reaches over and pats her thigh lovingly “good” she says shortly “that’s all that matters to me”

and we'll run

[samkerrworshipper]

hard times | awfc x reader

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, anxiety attacks, mentions of childhood trauma

You don’t even notice you’re shivering and tearing up under your duvet.

New Year's Eve for most people is a night of celebration, a night of partying, a night of celebrations. For you, not so much.

New year's eve ranks pretty high up on your least favourite days of the year.

Instead of being fun and full of celebrations it was a night of terror and fear.

That’s how you’d gotten under your duvet, the covers of your bed providing a very small shield from the outside world.

It wasn’t a good fix to stop the current downpour of sound around you, you’d tried it all, airpods, earplugs, music, none of it worked.

So you’d settled for clenching your palms down onto your ears, it wasn’t providing any reprieve from the noise cascading around you, but for whatever reason it felt necessary.

This wasn’t even the worst of it, you knew it was only so long until the fireworks started, and as soon as that happened it was almost a guarantee that you would be thrown into a whole different level of stress.

It had been this way since you were a kid, new years eve was a nuisance, a figment of your worst nightmares.

You wished you could go out and celebrate, that you could be normal and be happy.

But ever since your childhood, since it all happened, loud noises and bright flashing lights have always been a big struggle for you.

So, every year, you go through the same routine of hiding under your covers until it’s all over. Normally, the loud noises coming from London strike up a pretty serious anxiety attack, so you don’t bother with hurting your friends with your presence, knowing that all you will be is a burden for them on a night that is supposed to be fun.

It’s fine, you’re used to it, this year though it’s a little bit harder.

With your transfer to Arsenal in the previous January trade period you had quickly found a new family amongst the Gooners.

It was so hard for you to decline the invite to the celebrations for the evening, especially considering that almost every other holiday over the year had been spent with one or a couple of your teammates.

That was the hard part of being the only person left in your family, it was the reason for your stupid fear.

It all simmered down to one stupid night that wrecked your whole life.

Just as you had begun to become completely absorbed with the thoughts in the back of your mind, you were taken out of your trance by a quiet voice and the mattress you were sitting on flexing downwards.

“Hiya honey, you wanna come out for me?”

It’s Beth’s voice, sweet, kind, lovely Beth who definitely should not be in your apartment right now.

It makes you wonder if you are potentially dreaming, sometimes when you get really anxious delirium is a side effect.

“Beth?”

You reach down to pinch your thigh, hard, and it hurts, enough for you to be sure that you aren’t dreaming,

“Yeah hon, I’m right here.”

Her voice is enough for you to pull the covers over your head, the duvet falling into your criss crossed lap.

Beth is perched on the corner of your bed, a smile mixed with concern and care reflecting back towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

Your words are murmured, and spoken downwards towards your lap, because you can’t quite find it in you to look at your older teammate.

“It’s new years, silly, we couldn’t leave you out of the celebrations, the girls that are in town are in the kitchen.”

It’s said so nonchalantly, like this is some organised plan that has been set in stone for weeks, even though this is the first you’re hearing of it.

Suddenly, a firecracker or something goes off somewhere in the distance and your body is jolting on the bed, fresh tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes as your whole face pinches shut whilst the waves of memories wash over your body.

“I thought you guys said you were going to South Bank to do the fireworks and celebrations.”

South Bank isn’t far from your apartment, a couple of blocks south, unfortunately for you, most definitely close enough for the fireworks to be seen and heard.

“Who needs fireworks? We’d rather hang out here with you.”

It makes your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow, they’ve cancelled their plans to come to your apartment and you aren’t completely sure why.

“Beth, why are you here?”

It’s blunt, but with everything happening and your body in survival mode you don’t have time to beat around the bush, especially with the ticking time bomb which is leading to midnight.

“Less told us that you really struggle with new years, so we’re here for you.”

You know that all of the girls on the team, whether they mention it or not, know about your past, about what happened when you were a child, what led to you moving in with Alessia when you were 14.

Unfortunately for you, she’s spending her break with her parents in New York, so your normal emotional support for nights like these was unable to make it here tonight.

Something doesn’t feel the same about having Beth, and whoever else she’d managed to congregate being here with you, especially when you were significantly vulnerable.

“Beth, I appreciate it, but I don’t want to worry you guys, head down to South Bank, just leave me be. Tonight’s pretty hard for me and I don’t feel like doing much.”

Beth scoots her body up closer to yours, close enough that she can lift her hand up and set it down on your thigh, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way you slightly flinch away from her, the jumpiness running rampant in your body due to the anxiety.

“We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got you, let us take care of you yeah, you don’t have to do anything, at all, just sit on the couch and relax.”

You want to fall directly into Beth, let her give you a big hug and never let go, but there is still a part of you trying to obtain your self dignity.

“Beth, you don’t understand, tonight's really hard for me, and I don’t want you guys to have to deal with it, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

Beth’s hand moves from your thigh, upwards until it’s gently sitting on your jaw, angling your face upwards so you are looking at her.

“Let us be here for you, between myself, Vivi, Leah, Lia, Kim, Laura, Jen, Lotte I’m sure we can all figure out some way to make tonight a little bit easier for you. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t have to talk about it, we’re just here to show you some love and help you however you need, celebrations be damned.”

It’s hard to refuse when Beth’s kind, concerned and caring eyes are reaching deep into your soul. Tonight is hard, for you it’s like walking up mount everest, and it’s not exactly like you want to break down in front of your teammates but Beth seems pretty persistent about the fact she isn’t leaving.

“After the break in, after my parents and brother were killed, any loud noises resembling guns make me have anxiety attacks, it’s why I don’t like new years.”

Beth just nods and smiles, accepting the information but deciding to let you do the explaining instead of asking questions.

“That’s understandable, anyone in your position would feel the same, I’m sure it must be pretty tough, especially considering that you are still young.”

You bit down on your tongue, nodding to Beth, it is really fucking hard, especially considering that you don’t have anyone to talk about it with, because how could anybody understand.

“It’s why I freaked out a few months ago when you guys were popping balloons after Leah’s birthday party, I can’t help it, it just sometimes comes over me and I can’t control it.”

Beth nods immediately, feeling the guilt roll into her stomach at the memory of her and Katie popping all of the balloons, Beth now recollecting how you left with Alessia almost as soon as it happened.

“Y’know after my mom died it took months for me to be able to go anywhere near a hospital, Viv had to drag me to the doctors for my yearly check up. It’s funny what grief does to us. You want to know what works best for me?”

Beth is trying to find common ground, praying that it’ll work and exceptionally glad when you give her a little nod with your chin.

“I try to distract myself, whether it’s getting Vivi to talk to me or playing a game or watching the telly, helps take my mind off things, how about we try that and see if it’ll work with you, yeah?”

The idea makes you feel a little bit funny, but you are brutally aware of the fact that Beth is trying really hard right now to help you and you really want to be good for her and show her that you can do that.

“Okay, but I need it to be quiet, please.”

Beth just smiles and nods, her layed back demeanour shining through as she stood up from the bed, extending her hand to you.

Your hand is shaking furiously, but you manage to extend it out towards her, letting her own hand steady your as she pulls you up off the bed and gently tugs you towards the door of your bedroom.

To your surprise, when you exit the room the kitchen and loungeroom of your apartment are fairly quiet.

Lia, Kim and Viv are busy in your kitchen, pouring and distributing drinks and plates of pizza. Leah, Laura and Lotte are seated on your couch, a board game of sorts set out on the table, Jen is also joined in on the game, except she’s sitting on the floor directly in front of the table.

Viv, Kim and Lia all send a big smile your way as you slowly enter the room, it’s a spectacle to you, watching the group happily enjoying themselves in your apartment on a night where they could be doing far more than just lazing around.

“Do you want to go sit down on the couch, I know for a fact Leah will be cheating, you could go keep an eye on her, or stay up here in the kitchen with us, it’s up to you.”

The couch sounded nice, and you were aware of the fact that your body was quite tired and worn down from all the stress of the night.

So you cautiously stepped over to the couch, as soon as Leah saw you walking towards her she opened her arms up big and wide for you.

You didn’t second guess it, practically throwing yourself into Leah comfy and warm embrace, her body acting as a cushion to you.

The joint pressure and warmth from the hug did wonders at lifting some of the pressure off of your chest.

“How ya feeling?”

Leah’s voice is soft, whispered directly in your ear so that nobody else hears it besides you.

“I’ve been better, but having you guys here is nice, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Leah just smiled, taking a break from the monopoly game they were playing to look at you.

“It’s nothing, we’re here for you whenever you need us, just trying to make the night easier for you however we can.”

You nod gently, Leah’s arm wrapping around your torso to give you a big hug and essentially bond you to her side.

“The fireworks are the worst for me.”

Leah nods, her eyes are so understanding, there isn’t any form of humour or disgust in them, just pure interest.

“Just watch the game yeah, don’t think about the fireworks, I know it’s hard, but just try. We could put on a show for you, how about the new episode of Love Island?”

It’s a offer that you can’t decline, so Leah gets Jen to chuck her the remote, turning on the tv and flicking it directly onto your favourite show.

You relax into Leah, your body falling limp against her and using her as a pillow whilst you intently watch the tv.

It’s all going fine, or as fine as it can be until you can distantly hear a countdown coming from somewhere outside your apartment.

Almost immediately it sets off alarms inside your body, your legs and torso jolting up from the couch.

Just as you are about to rush off, most likely back under your covers or into your bathroom, Leah’s arms grab a tight hold of you, bringing you flush against her body. In a matter of seconds, Viv, Beth and Kim are all surrounding you, somehow sheltering you from the noise outside.

You feel like a feral dog, thrashing against Leah, trying to get away from her, from your teammates, from the world.

As soon as the noises hit your ears though, you stop moving, both of your palms crushing down against your ears to try and drown out the cracking and popping sounds booming from outside your window.

Leah holds you tight to her chest, even as you begin to sob and the panic begins to overtake your body, every time it happens you feel like you are going to die, like this time it’ll be the last and inevitably you know that your wrong, that unfortunately you will live to see out the next year, but it doesn’t make the whole process easy.

Suddenly your brain is crowded with thoughts, memories, sounds.

The sound of your front door being broken down, nobody hearing but yourself, giving you the opportunity to push yourself out of bed and into one of the cupboards in your wardrobe.

Then the sound of heavy feet, doors creaking, and heavy, thunderous, cacophonous gun shots.

No matter how many times you relive it, no matter how many years go by that sound will never disappear from your mind, it’s unforgettable and haunts every single one of your nightmares.

It’s all consuming, until somebody is taking a hold of your face, and staring at you directly in your eyes.

“Y/n, listen to me, you’re safe, we’re all here for you, we’re in your apartment, safe inside, nobody is here to hurt you or anybody else, you’re at home and it’s safe here.”

Kim’s captain's voice is both soothing and terrifying, the Scottish players' words are strong and coated in directness.

Once she notices that you are hearing her she continues.

“We’re here for you, we’re safe, breathe for me honey, deep breaths, you’re here, not out there, don’t worry about any of that, just look at me and breathe.”

You nod at Kim, even as the tears are streaming down your face and you are struggling to breathe, you listen to her.

“Good job, keep breathing, remember where you are, we’re all safe in here with you, nothing or nobody is going to hurt you, I swear.”

Kim’s words do wonders to help you, and with her assistance, as well as Leah’s strong hold, Laura’s hands gently massaging your scalp, Viv’s strong fingers drawing patterns all over your arms, Lotte gently rubbing the tensed up parts of your calves, Beth holding the parts of you Leah can’t and Lia and Jen both flanking kim, looking at you with the same care and concern as she is looking at you with.

It’s a team effort, but you feel completely enveloped by your teammates love and care as you come down from the panic.

“Doing so well for us y/n, it’s all over now, you;re safe, we’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.”

You look out to the window, temporarily removing your eyes from Kim’s and realising that your captain is in fact correct, all the noises, lights and pain has stopped, the world is quiet and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Slowly, as you become more aware of the world and your surroundings, one by one each girl gently removes themselves from you, until you’re left with just Leah, Beth and Viv, the three stragglers who are tasked with getting some food and water into you before sending you off the bed.

It’s a easy enough job, you’re spent and pliant, so Viv force feeds to a slice of pizza whilst Beth forces you to choke down some kind of electrolyte drink.

Once the two are done doting, they both leave you with a kiss on the forehead and gentle words whispered into your ear about how proud they are of you.

Leah is the one tasked with getting you into bed, and she does just that, getting you tucked properly on the covers before giving you a goodnight forehead kiss.

It feels weird watching her walk towards the door, like your being deserted, and you’ve been needy enough as it is tonight but you can’t help but reach out to Leah.

“Stay till I fall asleep, if it’s no trouble?”

Leah just nods and smiles like you’re asking her for a piece of gum, the blonde moving onto the empty side of your bed and leaving her hand flat against your back.

“You’re no trouble at all honey, we’ve got you, any time but especially on these nights.”

[astroph1les]

this love | chapter three [h.c]

summary: the king and queen are away and the kingdom is yours to explore. you make a trip to town and a stop by a lake that tests your relationship with hazel. the night ends with a moment that will change your life forever.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: angst, isabel just being the sweetest girl to exist, hazel opens up, mutual pining, it’s begun….

word count: 7K

a/n: i love them. that’s all.

this love masterlist

To say you were elated was an understatement.

You felt like your head was above the clouds as you woke up on your own the following morning. Your parents were gone and they would be for the next month. A month without them breathing down your neck about your princess-like duties, criticizing your every move, and comparing you to the one person you truly missed; your sister, Moira.

When your mother and father left the kingdom for tasks such as wasting their time searching for yet another prince for you to despise, they called off a vast majority of the staff to go back to their own homes back in town. A few guards and knights were the only ones other than you, Isabel, and Hazel were staying at the palace.

You knew the palace you lived in was quite big but when the people who took up so much space were gone, it suddenly became clear.

You sat up slowly from your sheets, stretching your arms upwards as you smacked your lips. It was strange to not have Mildred, Vivian and Beth come in to instantly begin to get you ready in the morning before you could even process being awake. You were still in your nightgown when you heard a soft knock come from the other side of the grand doors to your bedroom.

“Yes?” You call from your bed, raising your voice a bit louder so that whoever it was could hear you.

“Is it alright if I come in?” Isabel’s soft voice flows through the wood.

Your smile formed as you shouted for her to come in. You were getting out of the extremely comfortable bed that was tempting to fall back into when the doors opened. Your eyes widened when Hazel followed in after Isabel, somehow surprised that she was there.

“Good morning!” Isabel, sweet as ever, is the first one that speaks, already in one of her daily dresses.

Hazel’s eyes widened at the sight of you in your nightgown— your very see-through nightgown. She turned around as quickly as she had seen you.

“Princess, I’m sorry. I hadn't realized you were still…” She stumbled out an apology.

“Hazel, it's alright, really. I’ll be dressed in just a few minutes.”

Hazel simply nodded, remaining in silence throughout the duration of Isabel getting you ready. She kept glancing at you the entire time with looks that were confusing you. A smirk lingered on her pink lips but again, there were no words. Only glances between you and Hazel.

You and Isabel had landed on this rather beautiful simple white gown with a purple corduroy vest for a pop of color. Isabel had weaved half of your hair into a lengthy French braid while the rest flowed down your back.

You cleared your throat with a smile, staring at Hazel’s backside, and waited patiently for her to turn around. Once she did, she immediately began to apologize once again.

“Princess, again, I had no idea that you were still…” Hazel trailed off, raking her eyes up and down your body.

You flushed at her intense gaze, shaking your head.

“It’s alright. We’re all women.” You state plainly, shrugging your shoulders.

Hazel stared for a moment, a sudden silence and tension falling over the entire room. She nodded curtly before clearing her throat.

“Right. Well, is there anything you’d like to do today, princess?” Hazel spoke as if to distract from what had just happened.

You hadn't really thought about it. This newfound freedom without your parents was so riveting, you couldn’t decide what to do first. There were so many things that you had dreamed of doing without the precious king and queen breathing down your neck.

Now, it was really only Hazel that was on your every move but you didn't mind that much. You actually preferred it.

“I’d like to go into town.” You state with your full chest, staring at Hazel patiently.

Isabel’s head turned to you as her bright green eyes softened. Isabel’s family lived in town and she didn't get to see them as often as she liked so you could knock out two birds with one stone; your closest friend seeing her family and you being able to explore the town for the first time.

Hazel was hesitant. You could tell by the way her eyes widened at your words before she nodded.

“Of course, princess.”

As soon as those words left Hazel’s mouth, Isabel wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. You copied her movements as you let out a soft chuckle.

“Thank you,” Isabel breathes out with a relieved sigh that makes your heartache.

“No need to thank me, Bel,” you release her to hold her hands, matching her excitement.

“Princess, I’m sorry to interrupt but if you’re ready, I could bring the horses around for you and Isabel.” Hazel stood still, eyes flickering between you and Isabel.

Isabel simply nodded, her thrilled smile making your morning.

“We’re ready, Hazel. Thank you.” Your smile matches Isabel’s as Hazel walks towards the bedroom doors to tug them open for you both.

You and Isabel interlock arms, the soft fabric of your long and flowy bell sleeves. Hazel nodded curtly at you both then lingered behind you both as Isabel gushed to you about how absolutely thrilled to see her mother and sisters. Once you all had made it outside, Hazel made her way to the stables quickly to grab Peanut and a soft brown horse for Isabel.

Hazel had one hand on each of their bridles as they trotted on either side of her as they crossed the courtyard. You and Isabel stand at the bottom of the steps, waiting patiently for her to approach you both with the horses.

“Peanut, hi!” You beam as his snout bumps into your hand. “You are just the sweetest.”

“He really likes you.” Hazel’s dimple appears from her small grin, a flush showering over your cheeks and chest.

“It might be my royal charm,” you joke as you scratch underneath his furry jaw.

Hazel nodded. “Of course. Who could resist your royal charm, princess?”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears once she said that, freezing your hand on Peanuts’ jaw. Isabel’s arm released yours as she made her way to the other horse. You didn't miss her pursed lips and how she looked down at her flat shoes.

You let out a soft laugh before shaking your head.

“Thank you, Hazel.” Your laugh was awkward and you knew it but you focused on Peanut as you knew he couldn't make your cheeks spark a fire.

“Isabel, are you alright to ride the horse?” Hazel questioned the elated girl.

“Yes. I’ll be right behind you guys.” Isabel cooed the horse she was assigned before hopping onto the saddle.

Your eyes widened for a moment as you realized that you had never ridden a horse. Your excitement clouded your lack of horse-riding skills. You cursed the fact that your parents had banned you from the stables so that you wouldn’t smell like ‘peasants’.

They were so infuriating; even when they weren’t physically here.

“Wait, Hazel, I have never been on a horse.” You reach for her arm but then pull away, afraid she will reject your touch.

Hazel had two fingers gripped onto the bridle and stared at your hand that was retracting itself. You tucked it away into your other palm and cleared your throat.

“That’s no problem. I can help you, princess. Here.” Hazel held her hand out to you, her slightly calloused palm exposing themselves to you.

Your eyes glanced down at her hand and back up at her darling ocean eyes. You carefully take her hand, hoping you weren’t acting like her touch was terrifying. A part of you felt that it was for a reason that you couldn't quite describe.

You grab onto her palm, growing comfortable with the feeling as she guides you to Peanut’s stirrups.

“Now, it's quite easy. Put one foot in this stirrup and then place your hand right here,” Hazel placed your hand on the saddle, letting go of you for a moment, “for stability.”

You did as you were told, looking at her repeatedly to make sure you were doing everything correctly. Then came throwing your body up and on top of Peanut.

“Hazel, can you… help me?” You glance down at her insecurely, hating the idea of struggling in front of her.

“Hey, it's okay. You’re okay, princess.”

Hazel’s palm that had made its way to your lower back, steadying your shaking frame. You couldn't tell if you were shivering like a leaf because you were afraid that you were going to break a tailbone or her gentle touch.

Using as much upper body strength as you can, you throw yourself up and over the leather saddle, gasping when you make contact with Peanuts’ body. You hurriedly grasp for Hazel, your hands wrapping around her hand tightly.

“There you go. It’s alright, princess. See? You’re a natural.” Hazel was quick to reassure all of your troubled thoughts of falling off and accidentally cracking your skull open.

Isabel, too, began to tell you that you were doing great. You nod rapidly in an attempt to calm yourself down as well, slowly releasing Hazel’s hand. Your chest was rising and falling at a pace you weren’t aware that you were capable of.

“That was terrifying.” You breathe out but a smile forms on your face.

Peanut was as calm as ever as you adjusted yourself so that you could be towards his behind. There was no way you were going to be able to steer and manage leading the way for the beautiful horse. Hazel kept her hands out for a few more seconds just in case something happened suddenly.

Once she was sure that you were set, Hazel easily hoisted herself up and onto Peanut’s body. Your eyes were locked on the back of her head, wishing that you were able to see her sharp cheekbones and darling blue eyes once again.

“Are you alright, princess?” Hazel slightly pants out from the quick movements.

You nod, muttering a soft ‘yes’ as you reach your arms forward to wrap around her torso through her everyday knight clothing. You didn't even think about your actions removing your arms for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to.” You panic, rubbing at Peanuts soft fur as you could feel his warmth underneath. It was quite relaxing.

Hazel chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t mind, princess. I would rather you have your arms around me than you not.”

Your breath got caught in your windpipe, looking back at Isabel who was running her fingers through her horse's mane. If you listened closely, you could hear her whispering to the horse sweetly. You smile small at her before taking the chance once again and wrapping your arms around Hazel’s torso.

Was it wrong how you enjoyed feeling her toned stomach through the material of her clothing? It had to be. You shook your head at yourself as Hazel lightly kicked the side of Peanut's body to send him off to trot the three of you to the kingdom's town.

The small journey was breathtaking.

Once you all had passed the gates of the palace, it was as if you were entering a new world. Your eyes bounced from tree to tree, taking in the view of the panting-like sky and miles of fields that went past the horizon. Your smile grew with joy as you watched a few deers gradually make their way to a small stream for some water.

It was a baby and mother deer. Your heart ached at the sight of the sweet moment in nature. Yes, you knew it was quite odd to be so taken back by something as simple as this but this was the first time you’ve ever made it out of the palace on your own.

Soon, you were met with the sight of a few buildings along with a few shops. Your eyes darted from the few commoners that were walking along the stone walkways.

“Hazel!” You hear come from behind you and realize it's Isabel on her own horse right behind you two.

Hazel leaned back slightly to cause Peanut to come to a halt. Your gripped tightened around her waist at the sudden movement, a flush rushing to your cheeks. You had hoped it was just the sun’s bright rays beaming down onto you.

“Is everything alright?” Hazel asked Isabel as she and her horse maneuvered around Peanut to come face to face with the two of you.

“Yes. I just wanted to let you both know that I will be leaving the both of you to go and see my family just outside of town.” Isabel informed, her excitement written all over her bright features.

Your eyes softened at her, hoping that she’s able to see her family and have a wonderful time.

“We can meet back here at the entrance to the town by sundown. Not a moment later.” Hazel instructed Isabel, her tone becoming quite stern sending an unknown shiver down your back.The knight straightened her back before nodding her head and adding; “I hope your family is well, Isabel. The princess and I will stay here in town until then.”

Isabel’s eyes flickered to yours with slightly raised brows. You nodded as well, urging her to move forward. Without hesitation, Isabel taps her foot on the side of her horse as it galloped forward and past the bypassing townspeople.

“Look!” You point over Hazel’s shoulder at the market that was becoming more and more crowded by the moment. “Can we go to the market? I’ve never been.”

Hazel turns her head to the side, her cheek brushing past the perfectly sewed and mended fabric of your dress sleeve. Your reflexes kicked in and you pulled your arm back, the touch alone becoming too overwhelming for you. Maybe you should just keep them at her waist.

“As you wish, princess,” her tone was a bit more teasing this time causing you to smile to yourself.

After coming to a stop, Hazel hopped down from Peanut’s saddle to then hold her palm out for you to grasp onto. You carefully take her hand in yours, that previous fear of her disappearing for a moment. Peanut huffed and neighed a bit as you got down carefully.

You nearly slipped on the stirrup causing Hazel to reach forward to hold onto your waist. Your hands settle on her shoulders as you lean into her touch to help balance yourself.

“Are you alright, princess?” Hazel’s eyes followed your features all the way down to your ankles.

“Yes, I’m… alright. Thank you, Hazel.” You nod as you carefully release your grasp from her rather firm shoulders.

Hazel nodded curtly, her hands still on your waist for a moment before releasing you as well. Her hands flexed by her sides as she ran a hand through her deep brown hair. There was a sudden tension that made your head spin with confusion. You couldn't understand this feeling that has formed between the two of you.

“So, are you ready for the market?” Hazel hummed, scanning her area.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You state as you make your way forward into the unfamiliar town.

Just like inside the palace, Hazel lingered merely a few inches behind you. You curiously make your way to a table that was filled from edge to edge with a variety of necklaces with beautiful pendants. The vendor was a woman no older than thirty with a startled look on her face. Her dark purple and deep blue dress matched with her similarly patterned head wrap.

“Oh my, you’re the princess.” She spoke with a hand to her chest, eyes flickering to Hazel who was right behind her.

Before you could confirm, she bowed in your presence causing you to hold back your grimace.

“Whatever you like here, it's yours.” She rushed out, motioning to the many necklaces.

You were becoming overwhelmed by how anxious she was. You knew that your parents had installed this fear into the townspeople that they had to be at the royals beck and call. You couldn't understand how they gained so much pleasure from causing people to react like this.

“Thank you….” You trail off, hoping she would say her name.

“Beatrice.” The vendor— now known as Beatrice— nodded, her fingers clasping together nervously.

“Beatrice, thank you for the kind gesture but I tend to pay for the necklace of my choice if I so choose.” You insist, eyes glancing back and forth between Beatrice and the array of jewelry.

Your eyes lock on a gold pendant with a heart carved into the circle. Being gentle, you pick up the piece of delicate jewelry with a small smile.

“How much is this?” You question before turning to Hazel.

Hazel inches closer to you so that her chest was pressed up against the back of your arm.

“Yes, princess?” She asks you.

“Do we have any sterlings?” You whisper as you were suddenly aware you had no clue if you even had the coins to pay for it.

Hazel shook her head slowly, her face filled with guilt. Beatrice was about to tell you the price when you felt a hand tug on the skirt portion of your dress. You jump slightly when you realize it's a little girl; no older than five years old.

“Well, hello,” you chuckle softly at her long blonde hair and innocence-filled brown eyes.

“Excuse me, miss? My mummy says you’re the princess. Is that true?” She questions you, obvious doubt in her question. Her small arms cross over her burgundy clothed chest.

You turn to glance at Hazel with raised brows. Hazel had a hand on her hip where her holster was as she peered down at the child as well.

“Yes, I am the princess.” You nod to confirm.

Her eyes widened with excitement as she jumped up with a gasp.

“I’ve never met a princess before. Do you have a million dresses in your wardrobe?” She asked, running a tiny hand over the material of your dress.

“Maybe not a million but quite a few, yes.” You shrug your shoulders, your cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling.

“Ella!” You hear from a distance, watching a woman who looked almost identical to the little girl emerge from the crowd of townspeople.

“Mummy, you were right! She is the princess!” Ella shouts to her mother who came to scoop her up from the ground right next to you.

Ella gripped onto her mothers shoulder, eyes locked on you still wide with admiration. The woman, much like Beatrice had been, looked rather afraid than anything as she began to apologize to you.

“I apologize, princess. She ran off when I wasn’t looking a-and—“

“There’s no need to apologize.” You shake your head and wave at Ella who waves back with a dimpled grin.

“I want to be a princess when I grow up,” Ella sighed as she leaned her head on her mothers shoulder.

The sentence caused a sudden wave of sadness to flood over you. You wished you could tell her it isn’t as elegant as everyone may make it out to be, that the only redeeming quality was an empty home. Her big doe eyes that held so much life melted your aching heart. It was clear her mother cares for her as she caresses the back of her golden hair and kisses it gently.

Something you missed in your own life.

“With your beauty and curiosity, Ella, you’re already a princess.” You brush a piece of her flyaway hair with a soft smile.

She beamed at your words, her dimple deepening into her skin.

“We’ll leave you be now, princess.” Her mother sent you a gentle smile as she turned on her heels to walk back into the crowd.

You watch her disappear between the bodies and turn back on your heels to face Beatrice and Hazel.

“I apologize but I don’t think I’ll be purchasing the necklace. Perhaps another day, Beatrice.” You shake your head simply, hoping she understood.

“Oh, well, that’s alright, princess. You have a pleasant rest of the day.” Beatrice nodded with a more bitter smile.

You frowned slightly before you felt a hand escorting you away by your lower back. You knew it was Hazel by the way she handled you.

“You were quite kind to that child.” Hazel spoke up as she released your back to now walk beside you as you continued to stroll through the busy town.

“Oh, that was nothing really,” you glance at her, missing the sight of her face.

“No, it was… admirable, princess. Don’t do that.” Hazel shook her head as she avoided your gaze, eyes locked forward.

You furrowed your brows before asking: “Don’t do what?”

“Minimize your kindness.” Hazel stated as if it was obvious.

Was that a compliment? You wondered to yourself.

“You really think it's admirable?” You question Hazel, hoping that you didn't sound as desperate as you did in your head.

Hazel stopped in her tracks to turn to look at you in disbelief. You sucked in a deep breath as people passed by you but you felt as if the world had gone still as soon as Hazel did. The rest of the townspeople became a blur when her eyes were on yours.

“Do you really think so little of yourself, princess?” Hazel asks you, her tone matching her expression.

The question had stumped you. You shake your head and continue to walk forward, leaving her question unanswered. In a way, you felt exposed for how easily she was able to see right through you.

“I think we should stop by the bookshop.” You clear your throat as you try to divert the conversation.

Hazel sighs as she tries to reach for your wrist but you only pick up your pace, noticing that sudden movement. You spot a wooden sign with the word library carved into the deep oak wood. You knew it was quite childish of you to do but you went ahead into the bookstore. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind Hazel was following right behind you but you looked back anyways just to reassure yourself she was still there.

Hazel’s gaze locked with yours but quickly diverted to the shelves. The rest of your time in the bookstore and the town was silence between the two of you and as much as you hated to admit it; it pained you.

You could tell that Hazel was trying to be respectful and keep her distance. You didn't want distance anymore.

In the midst of you examining a few carrots you wanted to get for Peanut, you hear Hazel speak up form behind you.

“Are those for Peanut?” Her voice was careful.

You tilt your head slightly before shrugging your shoulders. “Yes. I assume he needs to eat.”

You grab at the orange vegetable, grabbing a few from the vendor. You had arranged to have the coins delivered to him the next day as you didn’t have the sterlings on you.

“Come on. I actually have something I’d like to show you if you allow me to, princess.” Hazel was getting tired of the silence and wanted to know that you weren’t angry with her.

You nod kindly at the older man vendor before turning to Hazel. Her expression was silently pleading for you to come along.

“Alright, Dame Callahan,” you motion her to walk forward, a smile curling onto your lips. “Lead the way.”

Hazel’s tense shoulders relaxed at your own smile, replacing her weary features to a more calm state. The two of you began to walk back to where Peanut was being held near the entrance arch. You beamed at the horse as you held the end of the carrot to Peanut’s snout watching as he ate the vegetable.

“What did you have to show me?” You turn to Hazel who was caressing the side of Peanuts body.

“It’s on the outskirts of the town. It’s a few miles into the forest.” She hesitantly suggested, eyes flickering between you and the dark horse.

That could be an adventure, you tell yourself. This silent tension between you two has got to pass and this could be an opportunity to fix your stubbornness.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you smiled softly at her.

Her eyes shone with relief and your heart clenched at the noticeable difference in her attitude towards you. She held her hand for you to help you backup onto Peanut to venture into the forest past the town. You got onto the saddle a lot easier than the first time, Hazel following your movements to straddle Peanut. Her hands grip onto the reins as she taps her foot against Peanut’s ribs to send him off.

You turn around with both of your arms around Hazel’s torso to watch the town shrink as the distance grows. Subconsciously, you lean your head forward to rest on her upper back and shut your eyes as you listen to her heartbeat. It was pumping fast with adrenaline, matching the way her ribs flared in and out as she breathed.

The fresh summer breeze brushed past your hair, cooling the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” Hazel turned her head to ask you, raising her voice.

You nod, lifting your head up with a blush. A little too comfortable, you thought to yourself feeling embarrassed for doing such a thing. Hazel chuckled to herself, the feeling of her ribs expanding causing you to laugh softly as well.

You became distracted as you noticed a bridge came into view. It was a few feet across but underneath was only a portion of a lake that stretched more than fifteen acres across. You had no idea how deep it was but it was a beautiful sight. The way the suns’ rays bounced off of the water and the surrounding grass highlighting the body of water. A few weeping willow trees dangled its leaves from above the bridge, sort of hiding the bridge if you looked at it at a certain angle.

“What is this place?” You question with a smile.

Hazel tugged back on the reins and Peanut came to a halt. She hopped down from the horse with a grunt, flipping her hair out of her face before reaching out for your hand.

“It’s much better up close.” Hazel assures you, looking out to the lake.

You reached for her grasp with a soft chuckle, peering out at the lake as well with admiration. As soon as your flats hit the dirt, Hazel began to tug you forward towards the bridge. Holding her hand so comfortably like this felt like breaking the rules. Excitingly breaking the rules.

The two of you approached the old bridge, the rickety wood squeaking underneath your footsteps. Hazel released your hand to place her hand on the beam that was separating you and Hazel from the water. You peer out at the water in awe.

“This is where my father would take me as a child if we weren’t training until my muscles ached.” Hazel admitted. “He said it reminded him of my mother.”

You furrowed your brows at her words, brushing your flyways out of your face.

“Your father has been a part of our kingdom for so long. He never mentioned you or your mother. Where is she?” You questioned softly.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with you. “She passed when she gave birth to me. I come here to think about her and how much my father would talk about her.”

Your heart ached at the thought of Hazel coming here alone when she was missing her mother. Knowing she has felt sadness and sorrow and had to deal with the ache of never knowing her mother that her father spoke highly about.

“Hazel,” you reach for her hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of her knuckles. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sure your mother would be so proud of you and how great of a knight you’ve come to be.”

Hazel glanced down at your hand on hers, pulling it away slightly which caused you to pull away completely. You’re making her uncomfortable, you scold yourself.

“Thank you, princess,” Hazel gave her a quick smile before peering out into the water.

“Of course.”

A beat of silence falls over you before you speak up once again: “I’m sorry for the way I reacted in town. It was… immature of me to do.”

Hazel shook her head. “I could tell I had made you uncomfortable before. When I had asked you that, I meant… I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Your heart was trying to escape from your chest as you hesitantly asked: “How do you see me?”

You were leaning your back against the beam of the bridge, looking at her as you patiently waited for the answer. Before Hazel could even fathom answering, you hear a crack come from behind you. You fall backwards from the bridge as your body hits the cold water. You feel water flood into your ears and nose and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. You knew how to swim, you were just overwhelmed and surprised by how easily that bridge broke.

How old was that bridge?

A few seconds passed and you hear another body hit the water. Two arms wrapped around your frame and you were being tugged through the water. You feel your head immerse from under and a cold breeze hits your cold face. You could hear Hazel panting and grunting as she frantically lifts you out of the water and back onto the land.

Your body felt weak as you could still feel water up your nose as you began to cough harshly, a slight burn bubbling in your throat. Hazel lifted you up and out of the water and laid you down onto the grass patch not too far from the bridge.

“Princess, are you hurt? C-Can you breathe?” Hazel patted the side of your wet cheek with her palm and pushed your soaked hair out of your face.

You groan softly as your coughing dies down.

“Talk to me, please.” Her tone was begging as her warm palms cupped the sides of your cool face.

You knew you should say something, anything but you can’t help but laugh. The laughter sort of spills out of you as you take in that you actually accidentally fell off of a bridge.

“Are you… laughing?” Hazel seethes as she removes her hands from your skin.

“I just— I fell off a bridge.” You express as you point to the now split piece of wood. “Into a lake.”

Hazel looks at you in disbelief. Your laughter dies down as you take in her very obviously infuriated with you. You sit up slowly to come face to face with her. Hazel backs up from you and stands to her feet.

“I think it’s time to head back to town to meet up with Isabel. The sun is going to set soon.” Hazel brushes off her grass-ridden wet clothing as much as she could.

“Hazel, it’s okay,” you begin before you realize why she may be angry. The bridge. Her father’s bridge. “If this is about the bridge, I’ll have someone come and fix it—“

“I think we should head back now, princess.”

You nod slowly as you stand on your feet, getting the hint that she wasn’t in the mood to talk right now. You had messed up. Why did you have to laugh? You thought this would fix the tension, not increase it.

You didn't even want to hold onto her out of fear that she wouldn’t allow you to. That is until you felt a hand grip onto yours and wrap around her torso as soon as you had hopped on.

The entire ride back to town was uncomfortable as you were both dripping from head to toe in lake water and Hazel had not spoken to you the entire way.

No check up. No ‘comfortable?’. Nothing but silence.

Once you two had arrived in town, there Isabel was at the entrance just as you had agreed on. Her eyes locked on your wet figures, her brows furrowed in worry.

“What happened?” Isabel asked in worry as she maneuvered her horse to walk beside Peanut.

“I fell into a lake. I’m okay.” You wave her off as you tilt your body to take a glance at Hazel.

She kept her gaze straight ahead, jaw locked tightly as she kept Peanut at a slow pace. Isabel’s eyes silently asked you why Hazel was so silent now. You, again, shake your head as you would explain to her later after you arrived back at the palace.

Isabel nodded at you before keeping her horse at a steady pace. You were dreading the conversation that was going to happen when you arrived at the palace.

What were you going to do?

Hazel maneuvered Peanut to the stables, Isabel following. Hazel swung over and off the saddle as her soggy boots hit the gravel ground that was just outside the stables. You were a bit relieved to see her still holding her hand out to help your stability. You take her cold and damp hand into yours, glancing behind you at Isabel who was taking the horse back to his stable.

“Hazel, can we talk? In the garden, please?” You mutter softly.

Hazel released your hand as her eyes locked with yours. She was still angry but her brows relaxed as she nodded.

“Let me put Peanut back in his stable. It should only take a moment.” Hazel weakly grinned as she hooked her fingers onto the reins and led the horse back into the stables.

Just as she disappeared, Isabel came from the opposite side. She sped walked up to you with a worried expression.

“Is everything okay between you two? I thought you guys were friends.” Isabel questions softly, a hand taking yours.

“I don’t know. I’m going to try and make it better.” You tell her lowly, tilting your head to make sure Hazel wasn’t coming. “I’ll tell you more about it in the morning. Goodnight, Bel.”

Isabel nodded as she squeezed your hand three times: “Goodnight.”

Isabel walks past you and to the entrance of the palace, the knights there opening the doors for her. Hazel emerged from the stables, shutting the heavy doors behind her before motioning to the direction of the garden.

“After you,” Hazel said with a tight lipped smile.

You walk briskly to the garden, eager to get some privacy as you were itching to know why she was so angry with you. Hazel was right behind you, her footsteps and wet boots making an obnoxiously loud squeaking sound.

As soon as you walked through the stone archway, you turned to Hazel suddenly. She stopped in her tracks and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Why are you upset with me?” You question, hands clenched by your sides.

Hazel blinked at you: “what?”

“Don’t do that. I can tell, okay? You were being short with me and have ignored me the entire ride back, Hazel. I want to know why.” You express desperation and begging in your tone.

Hazel remained silent. Her mouth opened but no words left her mouth.

“I understand if you’re angry with me because I broke the bridge. It was an accident but I know it meant a lot to you. I will send someone out there to mend it first thing in the morning.” You rush out, walking towards the fountain.

“I was afraid.” Hazel mutters out.

If you hadn’t been so attentively listening, you would’ve missed it. You turn around sharply to face her. She had a pained look on her face and a hand on her hip.

“Afraid?” You question.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath and let out a shaky breath. “When you fell into the water, I never felt that amount of fear in my entire life. I thought that you had hit a rock and broken a leg or worse.”

“Hazel, I was okay. I am okay.” You express gently as you inched closer so that your faces were centimeters apart.

“Well, you couldn't have been. I’m supposed to be protecting you and if something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t…” She trailed off and licked her drying lips. Your eyes were pouring into hers as the moon light lit up the side of her face beautifully, highlighting her watery eyes. “I care about you, princess. I don’t think you understand how much.”

Your eyes flicker down to her lips and back up to her eyes.

“I asked you before I fell ‘how do you see me’, what were you going to say?” You whisper out as if you spoke at any higher volume it would ruin this moment.

“Princess,” Hazel whispers back with begging in her voice, squinting her eyes as if it pained her to look at you.

“Please tell me,” you reach for the side of her face shakily, hoping she won’t push you away.

Hazel’s hand found your wrist and squeezed gently, shaking her head. You lean forward as your noses brush against each other. Hazel nudges her nose against yours with a sigh.

So close.

“I can’t,” she mutters.

“Why?” You beg, running your thumb over the apple of her cheek.

Hazel’s eyes flickered from the top of your head to the bottom of your chin before releasing your wrist. She takes your face between her palms and pulls your lips against hers. You gasp against her mouth, letting go of her face out of shock.

She was kissing you.

The feeling of her lips only yours surged electricity up your spine and into your head. You froze completely as no one had ever kissed you before. Let alone a woman. Before you could kiss her back, Hazel pulled away quickly and stepped back a few feet from you.

“Princess, I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. We can pretend like this never happened.” Hazel put her hands out, shaking her head in obvious distress.

“I can’t do that.” You whisper as you ghost your fingers over your flushed lips.

“Yes, we’ll just have to. It’s entirely unprofessional and something that—“

“—I want,” you finish her sentence as you inch towards her once again.

Hazel’s chest was heaving up and down as she tilted her head in confusion. You weren’t rejecting her; calling her disgusting or unnatural. You wanted this just as much as she did.

Hazel grabbed you by your arm and tugged your body into hers, locking your lips once again. She hummed against your lips as you followed her pace carefully. You wanted her to consume every part of you. This is what you had been wishing and aching for from the moment you met.

“Promise you won’t ignore me after this?” You whisper against her lips as you pull away.

Hazel huffed out a laugh with a shake of her head. Her hands were running up and down your almost completely dry dress. Your hands were tracing the bottom of her throat, wishing you could have every inch of her in your palms.

“I could never ignore my princess.”

You shyly avoid her gaze, a blush taking over your damp cheeks. Hazel gently pecked your lips once again before lifting your chin up with one hand.

“Your princess.” You state softly, adoring the title more than you ever imagined you could.

“In due time, I hope.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, her smile growing.

“Would that make you my knight?” Your smile matches her own, tilting your chin down into her grasp.

Hazel traces your bottom lip with her thumb delicately: “if you so wish. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“Will you join me in my room tonight?” You whisper breathlessly.

Hazel grinned at you, something familiar sparkling in her eyes before releasing your body from hers. You step back carefully, watching her every move like a hawk. Hazel’s eyes pointed toward the doors with raised brows, knowing you would understand.

You made your way past her towards the door with a pressed lip smile. Hazel was hot on your trail as the two of you entered the palace. You peer down both sides of the long hallways, not a single person in sight.

You grabbed her hand into yours with a devilish grin, tugging her along to follow you. She allowed herself to get dragged by you through the seemingly never ending halls of the palace. Your overjoyed laugh echoed down the halls as the adrenaline fled rushed through you.

Hazel shushed you gently but she, too, was giddy with joy. She just never thought it would be here with a princess; her princess.

Once the two of you approached your grand bedroom doors, you tugged the heavy doors open with Hazel with slight struggle. You entered your room with a soft sigh, shaking your head as you forced the doors shut. Hazel pushed you up against the hardwood with a soft thump as she kissed you once again, more eager for you. Your hands weaved into her hair with a shaky breath, arching into her hands.

“Princess, we’re going to have to head to bed soon. If I continue kissing you, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist you for much longer.” Hazel muttered against your lips.

You nod slowly, agreeing with her. You had a month to be with her like this. Four weeks time to enjoy every second of every day with her without disruption.

“There’s no rush,” you assure her, nudging her nose against yours with a sigh.

Hazel pecked your lips once before turning her head to look at your still unmade bed from the morning. It was strange to see but it felt more like a bedroom that you lived in than just a room in the palace.

Hazel grinned at you with a sigh.

“No rush.”

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[darlingshane]

First, Last & Only

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You don’t know his name yet, or much about the life of the tall and brooding coffee-addict that likes sitting on your section. The only thing you know, besides his favorite beverage, is that he’s traveling across the country, and that this little town in Indiana is just one more stop in his journey. He’s been staying at Odell’s Motel for a few weeks and during that time, he’s become a regular customer at the diner you work at, and sort of acquaintance of yours. His order is always hot black coffee. If you had it on tap, he'd drink it directly from it, you believe.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Fluff, Smut, Making Out, Vaginal Sex, Unsafe Sex, Pet Names, Coffee, Alcohol, Mention of Death and Kidnapping.

Word Count: 4,5k

A/N: This was inspired by the first episode of season 2 of the punisher. Reader is loosely based on Beth, but works at a diner instead, makes pottery, and has a cat.

— Read below or at AO3.

“If this was a bar, this would be the time to ask for your keys and call you a cab,” you smile, refilling your most notable bearded patron's mug.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” his voice sounds like gravel covered in molasses when he uses that pet name, only for you. “If I promise not to drive, would you sit down and have a cup with me?”

“I uh…” you quickly glance around the diner. There’s only one more customer left at the counter. “Sure, let me finish first.”

The man sitting at the booth gives a small nod, lifting his cup to his lips. You brush his shoulder with your free hand before walking back behind the bar.

You don’t know his name yet, or much about the life of the tall and brooding coffee-addict that likes sitting on your section. The only thing you know, besides his favorite beverage, is that he’s traveling across the country, and that this little town in Indiana is just one more stop in his journey. He’s been staying at Odell’s Motel for a few weeks and during that time, he’s become a regular customer at the diner you work at, and sort of acquaintance of yours. His order is always hot black coffee. If you had it on tap, he'd drink it directly from it, you believe. Rare nights he’s had any food. A couple of times, you’ve comped him with a sandwich or a piece of pie to make up for the fact that he always leaves generous tips.

As you set the pot in its place, you smile in his direction one more time before going back to your task. The kitchen has closed already and all you have left to do is clean your station.

While you wipe the tables, you casually glance at him from the corner of your eye to see him peering out the window as usual, like a dog on neighborhood watch. He seems to do that a lot. It looks like a habit; like you chewing the inside of your mouth when you're too focused on a task.

The next time you gaze at him, however, you catch him staring back at you, and you quickly avert your eyes away to your hand, wiping a rag on the sticky surface of the fourth booth.

You're not sure why, but you revel in the fact that he might be still staring at you right now.

Probably. Hopefully.

Do you want him to look at you and see you past the mustard-yellow uniform and white apron?

Maybe you're just lonely and can't help but see signs that aren't there. But like a moth to a flame, when you look at him a third time, his eyes, as you hoped, are still fixed on you as if wanted to pin you against the wall.

He's not a man of many words, but his stare speaks volumes right now. There are no mixed signals there. You've witnessed a handful of times that urge, that darkness, that comes from a primal desire. Whether it is voluntary or not, you can't say. But clearly, it isn't all in your head.

As you carry the tray with dirty dishes to the sink, you manage to contain the itch at the corner of your lip to curl into a grin.

“Look, they’ve found the two missing girls,” Hermann, the man at the counter, points at the TV, driving your attention to the screen above the bar.

You listen closely to the newscaster from the local channel at the scene, narrating how the two teenagers were locked in a basement in the outskirts of town for over a month, up until this morning. A stranger appeared out of the blue, told them they were safe now, before smashing the bolted door open. When they climbed out the staircase, their captor was dead in the living room, hanging by the neck on a wooden beam, and the vigilante that helped them escape was nowhere to be found. Presumably he was the one that killed their kidnapper, the police suspects. After all the information and gritty details, there’s some brief footage of the girls reuniting with their families before moving on to the next story.

“At least they’re home now,” you settle the dishes down, wash your hands, and pick up the money Hermann left on the counter.

“Have a good night, honey,” the old trucker says before heading out the door.

“Yeah, you too.”

Once Hermann is out, you’re left alone with the mystery man in the booth. It’s then that you pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit at the other side of the table.

“Guess nobody's waiting home for you either,” you say casually, capturing the warmth of the mug on your palms.

“What gave it away?”

“I don't know… Lonely recognizes loneliness, I suppose.”

“You feel lonely, sweetheart?”

“Sometimes,” your shoulders give a small shrug. “Don't you?”

He pauses, swallows as his stare goes down for a second to the beat of his tapping finger on the mug, “all the damn time.”

“Is that why you come here every other night and sit alone?”

“It's complicated.”

“I bet.”

As you take a sip from your mug, tall-dark and handsome produces something from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“I believe this is yours.” He slides a silver charm bracelet across the table that you thought you'd lost. “I found it on the floor the other day. I was going to give it back, but you were busy… I saw the clasp was broken and I–”

“You fixed it!” this time you can't really stop the smile taking over your lips. “I keep forgetting to take it off for work. I thought I'd never see it again. Thanks.”

“Don't mention it. I could tell it was important to you.”

Your chin bows as you secure the bracelet around your wrist.

“I was gonna leave it on the table and take off. But it felt… I guess it felt a little impersonal. And I'm leaving tomorrow and wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh, you're going on a trip?”

“No, I don't think I won't be coming back. You were kind to me and thought I ought to tell you.”

Though you were seemingly aware that he was bound to leave at some point, you can't help but feel a little disappointed at the failed prospect of getting to know him better.

“I uh… I don't know what to say. I guess I'll miss seeing you around… Don't even know your name.”

There's a light pull up on the corner of his mouth as he spells his name, “Frank.”

“Hm,” you let it sink in for a moment as you try to erase the made up names your mind gave him. “I thought you were a Nathan.”

“Who's Nathan?”

“Someone that used to live around here. You remind me of him, so I gave you his name. It's stupid.”

“You've been thinking about me?”

“I don't know… Sometimes. I don't have anything significant going on in my life. Girl's gotta have some entertainment and mysterious guys like you, Frank, that come and go, and sit here for hours really help pass the time some days.”

“Glad to be of service,” he huffs, lifting the cup to his lips.

“Listen. This might be a terrible idea, but since I won't see you again, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink with me. I mean something stronger than this,” you tap your mug with your nail twice.

There goes that stare again that makes your stomach drop. It's even darker up close but gentle and cautious. His eyes travel to your lips, and it feels like an eternity until they finally lock again with yours.

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

Taking a customer home might be the craziest thing you've ever done. It's not really like you to be that forward toward someone you hardly know, but there's something about Frank that fascinates you and pushes you into getting out of your comfort zone.

When your shift is over, you trade your uniform for a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater, while Frank waits outside by your car. He knows exactly which one belongs to you cause one night, while he was driving that flashy, big van of his, he happened to drive by you in the middle of the road, changing a tire. You didn't need assistance, but it was late and having his presence there eased you up.

“You're not like a stalker or a serial killer, are you?” you ask in a moment of trepidation before unlocking your car.

“Would a serial killer tell you that they're a serial killer?”

“I guess not.”

“Look, we can call it a night, sweetheart. No hard feelings.”

“C’mon, get in,” you grin, firmly using your chin to point at the passenger door.

During the short drive to your house, you poke around for some more information about what he was doing in town exactly and where he's going next. As usual, he doesn't give you more than a few vague answers. However, you do learn that he doesn't really have a destination in mind at the moment. He's just driving aimlessly.

After putting your bag down, you give Frank a quick tour around the living space.

“If you see a cat around, don't let her sit on your lap. She’s very territorial and likes to pee on strangers,” you warn him from the kitchen, collecting two glasses from the cabinet along with a bottle of bourbon while he curiously looks around the place.

“Got it,” you can hear a chuckle in his voice as his eyes are drawn to the messy dining table that holds an assortment of homemade pottery like bowls, plates, vases, mugs, jars… that you craft and sell online.

“Do you make these?”

“Uh-hm,” you hand him his glass and silently tap your glasses together before taking a sip at the same time. “You like them?”

“Yeah, they’re something…” he lowers his glass and slowly scans your creations, “I can't find the word for it… but they’re unique. I like the texture. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s Wabi-sabi.”

“Wabi-sabi?” his hand smooths his beard, letting a finger slide in the middle.

“Yeah, it’s Japanese. Simply put, it’s the philosophical concept of embracing the beauty of imperfection and simplicity that comes naturally from age or wear. Whether it’s something personal or purely artistic. It’s about accepting, loving, and living with those flaws in harmony. Like your nose.”

“What about my nose?”

“It’s kinda broken, but it fits with your face.”

He bashfully looks down at the amber liquid in his glass before taking a swig.

“Did you go to art school?”

You shake your head, and gesture at the couch, “I took a few classes at the community center when I was younger, then picked up a few techniques from books, videos… It’s mostly self-taught.”

“You’re really gifted,” Frank follows you and takes a seat on the armchair while you kick off your shoes and sit crossed-legged on the couch.

“I’m not. If I was, I wouldn’t have to moonlight as a waitress to keep the lights on. What do you do for a living, Frank?” You lift your drink to your lips.

“This and that. Construction for the most part.”

“Any secret talents I should know about?”

“Not really.”

“Hm. You’ve really mastered the man of mystery art, though.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“I just… I’m not good at this. Talking to people. Or beautiful women like you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Gorgeous,” he says under a breath, gazing intensely at you with those piercing browns that make your stomach flutter.

Trapping your bottom lip, you shyly glance down, unable to say anything other than a small, “thanks.”

“I’m not good at this either,” you confess after a beat. “I don't usually bring men that I hardly know home like this.”

“Does it make you nervous that I’m here?”

You lightly shake your head, “I don’t know why, but I trust you, Frank.”

“I trust you, too. It's funny how that works.”

“Yeah.”

You throw your glass back, downing half of it, letting it burn your throat and giving you the courage to stand up and take his hand.

Without objection, Frank laces his fingers with yours. His warm, large paw encloses almost your whole hand as you kiss his cheek, and guide him to your bedroom. Your heart pumps faster along the hallway and slightly settles when you turn on the lamp and feel Frank giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

As you turn to him, he releases your hand to hold your face instead. He captures your eyes with such care in his sweet browns, making your knees weak. His thumbs softly caress your cheeks and when he's ready, his head leans closer to press a chaste kiss on your lips. His beard tickles your skin, making your lips curve up the second time he sweetly captures your mouth. On the third try, his lips part and nibble your bottom lip. He lingers a bit longer before opening wider.

You close your eyes and follow his lead. It's hard not to. He takes it nice and slow, letting you get used to having his hands and lips on you.

Tentatively, you frame his waist while his tongue softly moves past your lips. Almost like asking for permission to enter, it swipes the curve of your mouth first and waits for your approval. You hum softly as you send yours to find the bittersweet taste of coffee mixed with bourbon lingering all over his mouth.

Once he's crossed that threshold, you both surrender to that underlying desire that's been clearly building up for weeks. One second is all paced and measured, the next one, he's eagerly stealing all the air from your lungs, claiming your mouth as his own.

“Wow,” you pull back to breathe, “I think I’ve found your secret talent.”

“Yeah?”

Top tier, you think, biting the inside of your cheek as your gaze falls to your own hands, still clinging to his sides. You watch them carefully move to unzip his black hoodie.

Transfixed, he watches your fingers just the same, letting you bare his skin. There's no shirt underneath when you push it behind his shoulders, just his hairless Greek-God defined torso molded in flesh and bones, adorned with several scars.

Frank lets the hoodie fall to the floor as you undo his belt, and tug the waistband of his jeans and step backwards in the direction of your bed.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” That's the word, the pet name, that makes you melt like ice-cream left on the sun-bathed pavement on a hot summer day.

“I've never been so sure of anything in my life,” you overstate on behalf of that dormant lust that has been neglected for months.

His lips curve up as he pulls the hem of your knitted sweater over your head. Subconsciously, you then cover his eyes the next second before he can take a good look at you in your underwear. His mouth splits his beard into a smile that shows his perfect, bright teeth. Your palm runs down his face, stroking his beard and when his eyes are uncovered, instead of looking down, his browns stay locked with your gaze. His head leans close, as one of his hands holds your jaw, keeping your face still while he steals another kiss from your lips.

When his face pulls back, he softly draws the curve of your wet lip with his thumb pad, reverberating under his breath, “absolutely gorgeous.”

It's a good thing the mattress is right behind you, cause you feel like swooning. You sit down and look up at him as your back falls down against the covers.

His pointer finger makes first contact with your skin, tracing a line down your stomach, producing a good laugh out of you.

You beckon him with just a look and a lip bite, and Frank takes that as an invitation to help your legs shimmy out of your jeans. His stare darkens at the first sight of your almost naked form. You could've picked sexier underwear if you knew this would be happening tonight, you think. It’s not like it matters, anyway, cause you can tell it's not going to last much longer on you as soon as he unzips his boots and crawls on top of you, nestling between your legs.

The buckle of his belt presses on your skin as he claims your mouth one more time, with feeling. One of his hands slips between your hair as the sweet undoing of his tongue drives you out of this world. Your palms land on his back, nails dig in his flesh as his hips roll slowly, rubbing his growing bulge in the right spot.

There's an electric force at the tip of his tongue, an urgency of his hand to wrap around your neck without pressing. It makes you hold your breath, makes him feel in control. If he wanted to squeeze the lights out of you, he could. It should frighten you, but it does just the opposite. Your core aches at the thought of letting him use your body however he'd like.

His work becomes more sloppy and needy the harder his erection strains behind the denim fabric. He curls an arm beneath you, blindly fumbles with his fingers to undo the clasp of your bra.

Once he’s rid of it, the rest of your underwear follows the same path to the floor, and so does his own clothes.

His head bows, planting his lips on your abdomen, and from there he leaves a trail of wet kisses and beard tickles up to your sternum. One of his large paws is drawn to your breast as his lips veer off the path to find your opposite nipple. He gently nibbles the hard peak, as your back arches. You sigh in pure delight, letting your fingers weave into his mop of curls as his puckered lips blow cool air over the wet patch he's left. It makes your skin buzz as he moves to the other one to pay it the same attention.

You're drenched in your own juices when you adjust your legs as he carefully guides his firm cock to your entrance. Looking at the ceiling, you shut your eyes as the blunt tip breeches and stretches your wet walls. It feels as big as it looks, takes all the room, but doesn't hurt one bit.

Propping his elbows on either side of your head, he waits for you to be ready to roll.

“You good, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flick open, “yeah, just… go slow.”

With a tender curve of his lips, he nods as you experimentally move your hips back and forth, taking him a little further in.

Frank moves with you, following your cues. His mouth stays close to yours, breathing you in, watching you enjoy yourself as your walls get slicker and tender stroke after stroke. It helps you move a little faster each time as you get used to his size.

First times are always awkward, but there's something about Frank that makes you feel at ease. Ironically, this is the first, last, and only time you'll have him like this. Which is something that just dawns on you as your breathing quickens.

The embers of your core turn to flames and spread like wildfire across your body, consuming every thought and nerve ending for the sake of that final gratification.

You moan Frank's name, and use your hands to push his ass lower, coaxing him to go faster, dig deeper. Every inch of your body deliciously aches with each thrust, each grunt with your name laced to it, and that beautiful beard that brushes your skin after every push. His firm body grows hotter and firmer beneath your palms. Once you've given him the go, he doesn't hold himself back. His drive is sharp and nimble.

Frank buries his face in your neck as the room is filled with a symphony of grunts and moans, measured by the adamant rhythm of his hips slapping against yours.

You close your eyes and savor this moment as he slowly takes you up to cloud nine. It's a daunting climb, but he takes the challenge and waits for the right second to fall off the edge with you. As your opening contracts around him, and you ride that torrent of pleasure that overcomes you, he releases the most animalistic grunt you've ever heard when his seed spurts all over your walls.

A man like him hasn't ever trembled in your arms after an orgasm. His body goes completely limp on top of you. And you hold him close, petting the wet curls as his nape while he slips out of you and that high slowly ebbs.

“And you said you had no talents,” you say hoarsely, with a dopey smirk plastered on your face.

“I don’t like boasting,” he grins against your skin before lifting his head tiredly to look at you.

Combing your fingers in his hair, you push back those tousled-damp curls off his forehead.

“Well, If I had known you'd be that gifted, I’d have invited you over sooner.”

“Yeah?” Biting his lower lip, his head dips to sweetly seize your mouth.

“Hm-hmm.”

“I can stay all night if you want. Could make it up to you for all the time wasted. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

What the hell. If this is the only time he'd be in your bed, better take the chance of making this a memorable night, you think.

You simply nod and watch up close, one of your fingers slide across the texture of the pockmarks on his cheekbone.

“You like those? Is it wasabi, too?”

“Wabi-sabi,” you point out with a light chuckle, “and yes, I like them. They're like moon craters.”

Cradling his nape, you pull his face down and kiss that beautiful spot on his cheek, before settling his head on your shoulder.

He hugs you back and stays in that position for a while, in comfortable silence, as you gather the strength to switch places with him and go for a second round. Straddling on his lap is a vastly different experience. You ride him slowly, while he molds your figure to the shape of his hands. There's no place left untouched when you're done, and shortly after, you both go at it a third time as if you were running a marathon. You share stories and drinks and food in between a haze of sex, kisses, and hugs before finally succumbing to slumber a couple of hours before dawn.

You’re the first one to wake up a few hours later. The sun is already out and before slipping out of bed, you watch Frank for a minute, committing to memory the relaxed expression of his rough features. Then, you carefully pad out of the room to fill your cat’s bowls with food and water and find her sleeping in her favorite spot behind the couch. She only rises from her resting position at the sound of the coffee maker. Soon, she’s slinking between your feet as you go around the kitchen and doesn't stop until you pick her up, give her a kiss and a cuddle, and settle her beside her food bowl.

“Morning,” you hear Frank’s early husky voice as he steps into the kitchen wearing only his pair of jeans.

“Good morning,” your lips curve watching him prop his hands on the edge of the breakfast bar. “Guess you smelled the coffee brewing, huh?”

“Guess so. It’s like a Pavlovian response, I can’t help it.”

You snort, gesturing at bar stools, “please, take a seat.”

“It should be me making you breakfast,” Frank settles his ass on the stool.

“Force of habit. Sorry.”

“I was starting to think you had an imaginary cat,” he points at your furry friend focused on her food.

“No, she's very real. She just likes hiding at night.”

You place a couple of mugs on the counter, fill Frank’s up close to the rim, and only pour half of yours.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” you place his coffee in front of him.

Frank scoffs, picking it up and lifting it up to his lips as he says, “that's never stopped me.”

You dread every second left after that, knowing that once he’s out the door, you won’t see him again. You’ve grown used to having him around the diner and last night, what you two shared, was just one of the best things that’s ever happened to you lately.

Rather than expressing that out loud, you put one of your handmade mugs in a box and give it to him as a parting gift.

Then, you drive him back to the motel he’s been staying at.

“Thanks for the mug,” he gives you one last tight hug. “Take care, yeah?”

“You know… you could stay a little bit longer,” you awkwardly suggest when he releases you. “We have that roast you like coming in today, I think. If not for me, at least do it for the free coffee.”

“That’s tempting, but I gotta move on now, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you sigh, tucking your hands in your jacket's pockets, as one of his palms moves to hold your chin. His head tilts to the side to leave one last kiss on your cheek before stepping away.

After climbing into your car, Frank closes the door for you, and watches you from the sidewalk as you drive away before collecting his bags from his temporary room.

You go back to your usual routine after that little adventure you had with him. You run some errands around town, mail some orders from your online shop, go grocery shopping and have some lunch before your shift at the diner.

Frank barely leaves your mind that day, especially after you slip into your uniform and open the new coffee order in the pantry and start a new batch.

“I swear he has a thing for you,” Jody, friend and fellow waitress, says as you work the coffee maker.

“Who?”

“The hipster. He’s in your section again. Look.”

You frown and turn your head to see Frank sitting in his booth, flicking the pages of a newspaper. A smile instantly takes over your lips as you try to hold the excitement of running towards him.

“Wow, I guess you have a thing for him too. I don’t know how I missed that,” she realizes. “Well, go on, say hi before someone swoops him up.”

Swallowing, you wait till the pot is filled to walk over his table.

Frank licks his lips when he sees you stepping closer, and turns over the mug sitting on the middle table.

“So, how far did you get?” you hold the pot steady, filling the cup.

“Dunno… a couple of hours, give or take.”

“Hmm.”

“Guess it took me a second to realize how good that coffee was.”

“Want something to eat with that?”

“Maybe later when you’re done… we could… would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

[lilypadeater]

YOUR WRITING IS SO MUAH 💋

request :3

could you do a smut where Rick is kinda mean towards the reader but that’s only because he’s into her! And he’s kinda a perv 🎀

Try It On

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary-(Request)

Content Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (20s and 40s) smut, p in v, unprotected, fingering, degrading, perverted and jealous rick I suppose, kissing, flirting, cussing, UNEDITED

The Georgia heat forced you to wear shorts and a tank top, which Rick definitely didn't mind seeing you in. Water sloshed around in the bucket with each step you took, and some even spilled onto you. You poured it into the cow troughs and made your way towards Maggie and Beth.

The girls were standing by the tents of the survivors living on your farm. You nearly rolled your eyes when you saw Maggie flip her hair in efforts of flirting with Glenn, one of the survivors. Beth awkwardly third wheeled them, so you decided you rescue her. "Beth, Daddy needs you," You called out.

She seemed to have caught the hint and scurried away from Glenn and Maggie's flirtatious interaction. You turned to the house but Glenns voice stopped you, "Hey wait! We need your help."

Slightly surprised, you turned back around and asked, "For what?" Maggie sauntered over to you with Glenn following closely behind her.

"We need you to come on a run with us," Maggie demanded.

The idea of going outside the farm was exciting and terrifying at the same time. There was 'infected' everywhere, you assumed. But that was simply an assumption, and you were sick of being cooped up in the farm. It couldn't be that bad, plus, you had Maggie and Glenn to watch out for you.

You paused for a moment before replying, "Well, I'm not opposed to the idea, but why?"

"We need to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Glenn and I are gonna check pharmacies for medicine, you and whoever else are gonna check the stores for ammo."

Now, you were completely against the idea. Maggie and Glenn wouldn't even be around to look out for you. Your safety relied on whoever else agreed to go. "Why the hell would you even want me to go? I can barely shoot a gun."

She rolled her eyes, as if it were the most obvious answer, "You're the only other person here, besides Daddy and Beth, who knows the town as well as me. Don't worry, we'll find someone experienced to protect you." Her snarky tone ticked you off, but you decided to ignore it.

Glenn could see your unconvinced face, and decided to chime in, "Actually, I'll see if Rick could come. If he's able to protect a 12 year old boy, he'll be able to protect you."

It was embarrassing to be seen as s damsel in distress, but you really wouldn't be able to survive out there on your own. The two were eager to have you to come on this run, so you really couldn't say no. You sighed, "Fine, I'll go, but I don't think Rick would agree to it." Rick was the leader of the group on the farm, and he showed his disliked towards you the moment he laid eyes on you. It was clear he'd avoid you at every chance.

Rick couldn't deny the attraction he had towards you. The short dresses and tight tops you wore had his gaze lingering on you for far too long. Your lips looked so kissable every time you spoke to him. It was wrong for him to be attracted to you, Hershel would probably kill him for it. That's why he kept his distance from you and often gave you the cold shoulder.

When Glenn approached him and asked, "Would you mind coming with us on a run and partnering up with Y/N? She's kind of defenseless out there and we'd figure you'd be the best at making sure she stays alive." Rick didn't know what to do.

Being alone with you was something he'd never agree to, for his own well-being. It would be tantalizing to see what he couldn't have right in front of him. But knowing someone else would protect you, filled his veins with jealousy. He wanted to be your protecter, savior, and anything that meant keeping you safe. In his eyes, you were his, you just didn't know it yet.

"Yeah sure, I'll keep an eye on 'er," He nonchalantly answered.

You saddled up two horses, one for Maggie and Glenn, and another for you and Rick. Maggie rushed into the stables while holding onto Glenn's hand and giggling. Before you could say anything, Maggie announced, "Rick's just getting his gun ready, you'll catch up to us," and got onto the horse with Glenn sitting behind her. It was evident that they were going to be doing more than just searching for medicine as they galloped away.

Rick's footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned towards him with a hand on the horse's course fur. "Ready to go?" You asked softly, trying to seem polite. He just nodded in response and got onto the horse in a swift motion. "You know how to ride a horse?" You inquired, slightly confused at how well he did it.

"Yeah. Get on," He dryly answered. You were disappointed at his response and got onto the the back of the horse. Your body was pressed up against his back, making your stomach flutter and his heart race.

"This one's jumpy, so I'd be careful," You informed as you snaked your arms around his waist to hold yourself securely. The horse jolted forward and trotted out of the stables.

You directed Rick toward the town, but it was hard to focus on the dangers around you when you were so close to him. He smelled of a campfire and the forest, intoxicating you.

After about half an hour, you finally reached the town. The horse's loud footsteps attracted a walker, but Rick effortlessly stabbed it in the head. He began to tie the horse to a fence, but you quickly stood in front of him, stopping him. "What if she gets eaten?" You whispered, your voice laced with concern.

"Then so be it. There ain't nothing we can do, but this area seems fairly clear anyway," He replied with some edge and gently moved you to the side.

"Are you sure? Please can we look around to make sure?" You pleaded, feeling distressed from the situation.

He could see the worry in your innocent eyes and felt guilt creep up on him. "Fine," He grumbled and pulled his gun out of its holster.

You smiled in appreciation and watched as he tied the horse to the fence. Rick turned to you and asked, "Where's your gun?"

Completely clueless, you looked up at him and replied, "What gun?" Your father had forbidden the use of guns for you and your sisters, so the only weapon you had was a hunting knife. It was small, and you had to sneak it out of your father's shed, but it got the job done. Well, at least you'd hope it would.

He rubbed his forehead with his hand in frustration, "Jesus Christ, jus' stay close." You took this as a sign to grab his hand, lightly pulling him in the area you wanted to check. Rick was taken aback, but holding your hand was thrilling. He loved how soft and gentle your hand was, compared to his rough and calloused one.

After inspecting the area and finding no walkers, you deemed it safe enough to leave the horse. You guided Rick through the abandoned town, occasionally stopping at some stores to loot. Being in his presence made you feel safe, despite his attitude.

"This used to be my favorite place to shop," You explained and pointed to a boutique. It had broken windows and weathering, but there was still some clothing inside. "Now everything in it is free." Your comment formed a slight smile on Rick's face.

"We can check it out, but it's gettin' late, we need to head back soon," He plainly stated. You released Rick's hand and pranced towards the store eagerly. Rick followed you closely, slightly disappointed from the loss of physical contact. He did a quick sweep through the store to ensure no unwanted visitors would interfere with your looting spree.

"Look at this!" You exclaimed and excitedly picked up a short red dress with lace detailing. There were a couple tops and skirts you decided to take as well, stuffing everything into your backpack. It was dusty, but nonetheless beautiful.

Your smile and joy brought a sense of warmth around him, but the sunset outside made him anxious. "Are y'done yet? Walkers gonna be crawlin' everywhere soon," He hissed impatiently with his arms folded.

"Yeah, could you just help me try on this dress? I don't wanna take it all the way back if it doesn't fit," You replied and held up the wine red dress with elegant lace designs adorning it. He simply grumbled and followed you into the dressing rooms, hiding his anticipation.

You stepped into a dressing room and closed the curtain almost fully. The temptation to glance at you through the sliver filled Rick's mind, but he chose to turn away and ignore the growing bulge in his pants.

After undressing, you needed help zipping up the back of the dress. It barely covered your ass, so bringing it with you wasn't practical. Yet the urge to show Rick encouraged you to call out for him. He strode towards the dressing room as you slid the curtain open, revealing the beautiful dress. His eyes devoured the sight in front of him and roamed your body. Your legs and cleavage were on perfect display and the color complimented you beautifully.

"Zip me up?" You asked and turned around, pretending his gaze was unnoticed. The enclosed space required your bodies to push together. His warms hands reach your back and held you in place while her zipped it up. You could feel your cheeks heating up when his hand made contact with your bare skin and his erection pressed against you.

"Y'like it?" You whispered and tilted your head back, peering up at him through your lashes. Rick's eyes hungrily stared down at you as his hands traveled to your waist.

"Mhm" he muttered, tracing your body with his hands.

“Show me how much you like it,” you muttered, leaning into his touch and turning to face him. His lips grazed over your forehead before you felt his rough hand slip under your dress.

A smirk formed on your face when you met his hungry face. You guided his hand to you inner thigh, letting out a breathy gasp when his fingers reached your heat.

His fingers brushed over your soaking clothed pussy, "Fuckin' minx, already so wet." The feeing of his fingers rubbing your clit and hearing his words sent chills down your spine.

Rick's movements brought you close to the edge, just for him to slow down and deny your release. "Please," You whined, only receiving a sadistic smile from him. His hand left your clit and slipped out from under the dress, leaving you frustrated for more. "Just fuck me already," you panted, desperate to alleviate the growing desire between your legs.

He said nothing, simply cupping your face with the same hand and shoving the damp fingers into your mouth. You were surprised, but still felt yourself sucking on them eagerly, slightly tasting yourself.

"Only if you ask nicely," He smugly whispered into your ear before pulling them out.

"Please fuck me," You pleaded. In one swift motion, he spun you around and pressed you into the wall. Your hands supported you against the wall, as the sound of his belt unbuckling ignited a fire in your stomach. He pushed your dress up, just enough to slide your underwear to the side and coat his rock-hard cock with the arousal on your folds. The sensation earned a whimper from you as you struggled to stay quiet.

Rick eased into your drenched cunt slowly, giving you some time to adjust to the stretch. Your tight cunt squeezed around him, almost too tight. He was pressed deep inside of you, practically pushing against your cervix. He began to slowly thrust in and out of you, filling the small room with your whimpers and his groans. “You’re a fucking slut,” he rasped, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. A loud and desperate moan left your lips as he sped up, grabbing your hips to push himself even deeper.

His hips rutted into yours roughly. “Fuck, I’m almost there,” you panted as the tingling sensation in your stomach increased.

A sinful smirk played onto his lips and he muttered “Good girl.” His praise sent you into your orgasm as he could pounding into you. Your walls clenched around him, finally slowing him down as he approached his own climax. You Rick grabbed a fistful of your hair and brought you closer to his face, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He stuffed your cunt with his cock completely before coming inside you, painting your walls white. You moaned into his kiss, satisfied at the feeling of being so full.

He slowly pulled out of you, causing some of the white liquid to dribble out. Your lips disconnected, gasping for air. Rick stared into your eyes with a sense of astonishment as you both caught your breath.

You met his eyes and smirked, “I guess you really liked the dress?”

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Lmao this took me so long to finish cause I was like “wtf am I doing” the whole time, sorry if it’s a little all over the place

Make more requests guys 😜

[noxturnalpascal]

Devotion 🖤

II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 8)

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.*

PREVIOUS

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 8 (6.6k) | The Night You Left |

Joel barely sleeps, tossing and turning in his bed with his clothes on, knuckles bloody and burning, throat raw from screaming. He wakes up to hushed whispers outside his door and he throws it open, inexplicably hoping to see you out there. Instead he sees a sea of terrified faces, Sasha tucking Beth behind her, Tess peering out from the bathroom with Rosie holding a cold cloth over her swollen face. Kerri is further down the hall, sweeping up chunks of drywall and dust on the floor from the holes he’d punched into the wall hours earlier. 

He looks back towards Tess. Fuck. She looks awful, already two swollen black eyes and a split lip. What kind of a monster does that to someone? 

“Tess, I–”

“I’ll be alright Joel,” she reassures. “Why don’t you head over to the baths and get cleaned up?”

She knows he can’t be seen in the state he’s in. What would people think? They’d think he’d fuckin’ lost it is what they’d think. And they’d be right.

Joel heads to the old plaza, a ten minute walk down the street and around the corner, to the old salon now serving as the town bath house. This early in the morning he knows no one is going to be here so he lets himself in through the back door. He checks the tank of the town’s only working hot water heater and begins to fill one of the stock tank tubs, shucking his clothes off and climbing in. The water stings his raw knuckles as he scrubs at his body, washing away bits of dusty drywall and blood – his or Tess’, he can’t tell.

Fuck, he fucked up. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. He shouldn’t have done that to Tess. This is what you fucking do to him, this is the effect you have on him. You bring out the worst in him. All you ever did was distract him, tempt him, tease him, and reject him. He saved your life, fed you, clothed you, protected you, and put a roof over your head. And how did you repay him?

Resentment. Neglect. Defiance. Abandonment.

What did he even see in you? He thought you were brave, but you were so soft on the inside. He thought you were smart, but he watched you act like such a fucking fool. He thought you were beautiful, but you wouldn’t even let him say it. He thought you were wild, but he tamed you so easily. He was wrong about you. He tells himself that he’s glad you’re gone and that he’s better off without you around anyway.

—

The first Thursday without you, Joel takes Beth to the meeting, despite complaining that he’d rather go alone. Beth had already gotten to work making clothes and this would be a good opportunity for her to give some out to the families that lived further out of town, at least that’s what Tess had said. He’d never admit it, but he held his breath when a group of people led by the tall and imposing Hank walked in the room, someone else trailing just behind. Several people shifted and Joel saw it was just Hank’s little girl, blushing bright red when she caught him looking at her. 

Shit. He’s not sure why he let himself think it might be you. Hank hadn’t brought you to the church meeting on Sunday so why did he let that tightness grow in his stomach thinking he’d bring you to the Thursday meetings the way he used to bring Beth? Whatever. He doesn’t even want to see you. He continues to be in a foul mood all week and despite pleading with Tess for forgiveness – which she gives him – all the women in the house seem to avoid him.

The second Thursday he notices Hank’s young daughter, who’d introduced herself several times as Amber, following his every move, watching him, sitting next to him, hanging on his every word with rapt attention. The little girl must have a crush. How inconvenient. But wait, he might be able to use this to his advantage. He’d noticed you ducking behind Hank’s oversized frame at church the past Sunday, avoiding him like the plague, and decided he was going to give you a taste of your own medicine. 

Fuck you, you little ingrate, he’s gonna ignore the shit out of you right back.

He purposely avoided looking in your direction during his speech and sat with his back to you during dinner. He made sure to act like the perfect leader, loving and gentle, graciously accepting people’s well wishes for Tess’ illness – the cover-up for why she’d been in the house for over a week while her face healed up. Within earshot of you he gives attention to every other female Valley member, even going so far as to bring people into his embrace, hugging them tight. 

He’s like an oily politician – kissing babies and shaking hands – but he hopes you see it all. He hopes you feel sick over it, feel jealous, feel regret. He hopes you feel the loneliness rotting in your gut like he does. But how will he know? How will he know if he can’t see you, can’t talk to you? He needs access to you, someone for you to confide in, someone on the inside. Little Amber will do nicely. 

He strikes up a conversation with her, bumping up the charm to an eleven. He opens with some mildly flirtatious banter, asks some questions about her – women love that shit – before getting to the point.

“Hear you got a new roommate over there,” he postures casually.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Amber beams.

“She is?”

“Oh– ummm,” her brow furrows. “Isn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles, “You tell me.”

“She’s alright, yeah… I mean, she– she’s fine.”

“Well you should let me know if she does anything to bother you.” His voice is smooth and buttery.

“I should?”

“Well yeah,” Joel touches his hand briefly to her chin, “I gotta make sure you’re happy, don’t I?” 

“Oh,” she giggles, face flushing immediately.

“So make sure you tell me what’s goin’ on, okay?”

“Yeah I will,” she tries to suppress her smile. “I– I definitely will.”

“Anything at all, even if you think it might not be important.” He makes sure she’s looking at him and drops his voice an octave. “Anything at all, okay, sweetheart?” He winks to seal the deal.

It was almost too easy, turning little Amber into his own private mole. Every Thursday he gave her a couple minutes of attention and she folded, playing right into his hand and spilling everything you two had talked about over the past week. She told him where you went, what you did, who you talked to, and even what anyone else in the house said about you. Apparently Hank’s wife was missing Beth and Joel briefly thinks of telling Tess to make a switch back, but then gets angry at you again and changes his mind.

You don’t deserve his forgiveness, you’re not missing him enough, not even close to being as miserable as you could be. Amber had told him that you’d cried yourself to sleep almost every night the first week but then the other day after the church meeting he’d watched you hunch down behind little Amber – barely five feet tall – trying to hide from him. Your stubborn pride is gonna make it even more satisfying when you come crawling back to him, begging him to let you come back home.

Amber tells him when you’ve stopped crying at night but says you still spend a lot of time on your own, wandering the edges of the property. She catches you up in the hayloft all the time, or napping with the baby goats. She says you don’t spend any time with Danny or Diego, the ranch hands, so he resists his urges to take them by the collar and threaten to bury them alive if they so much as look at you.

—

Joel woke up in the mornings feeling empty, like his chest had been broken open and hollowed out, all of his internal organs scooped onto the ground. The only thing that remained inside him was a deep-seated ache. He tried to soothe it with conversation but Tess didn’t want to hear it, kept telling him it’s better this way and to move on. He tried to temper his loneliness with touch, but when he reached for Sasha’s hand after dinner one night she ripped it out of his grip. One evening, in a particularly weak moment, he nuzzled into Kerri’s neck while she was washing dishes, her hands occupied and covered in suds. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, startled by his touch.

“Hey,” he said, muffled against her skin, twitching under the brush of his beard.

“I’m not really–” she started.

He didn’t let her finish. He was out of the room before she could even finish her sentence. How fucking pathetic was he? He didn’t even want her – not really – and she couldn’t even stand to be touched by him. This is what you’ve done to him, this is what you’ve made him. He’s been ruined by you.

When it's been just over a month since you left, things at the house finally get back to a sense of normalcy again. For a while, Tess was the only one speaking to him, and besides the Thursday meetings Beth was assigned to accompany him to, she avoided him like the plague. Kerri wouldn’t meet his eyes, Rosie shuffled away from him whenever he entered a room, and Sasha gave him dirty looks every time she passed him in the halls. But with time, things were improving. There was a low hum of conversations around the dinner table now – none of them involving him – but at least everyone else was happy.

The following Sunday Amber traps him in a corner and starts saying shit about coming to live with him. He has no idea where she got this idea in her head but she keeps trying to touch the buttons on his shirt and he’s doing everything in his power not to swat her little fucking hands away. He sees Tess giving him a look and he knows. He knows he needs to get away from her, that people can see him, that people will talk. What if you see him? You’re never gonna come back home if you think he’s messing around with this annoying child. He has to stop using her for information, he has to cut her off.

The following Thursday marks the end of February and Amber’s reports have gotten brief and repetitive. Walks alone along the pastures, always has her nose in a book at bedtime, late to every meal (much to her mother’s chagrin). She tells him that you only leave the farm on Sundays for church and on Wednesdays for your bath, having to settle for a weekly wash at the Covered Bridge Inn another mile down the road with some of the other farming families. He bets you’re missing your three soaks a week since you left town.

Joel decides to cut Amber off then and there, she’s not giving him anything he doesn’t already know and he needs more, he wants more. He needs to fill that emptiness inside him and you’re the only thing that can make him feel whole again. He’s barely looked at you in weeks, always avoiding watching you directly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of thinking he gives a fuck. He doesn’t, not really. He just wants to soothe the hole you left. He convinces himself he just needs a taste, just needs a peek. He just needs to see if you’re missing him, to make sure you’re suffering the way he is, the way you should be. He wants to see it for himself. Then he can get over you – move on – like Tess says he should.

He waits until the following Wednesday and makes a trip out to the Mansfield’s farm when he knows you’ll be gone for your bath. Only Hank remains on the farm to greet him but is honored and excited by Joel’s presence. Joel makes up something about wanting to visit Hank because of how much he respects all of his hard work, but asks Hank to not spread the word lest the other farmers be jealous. Hank nods in agreement as he shows Joel around the property and then welcomes him into his humble home.

When Joel excuses himself to use the bathroom he takes a walk around the upstairs, checking each bedroom to find yours, recognizing it when he sees one of your old shirts on the bed. He lifts your pillow to his face, huffing in your familiar scent. Under your pillow is a book, paperback cover worn and tattered, Of Mice and Men by John Steinback. Joel stuffs it in his waistband and pulls his shirt back down, heading back downstairs to tell Hank he should get going.

There’s no mention of his visit by his little spy the next night so, he assumes Hank kept it a secret and you were none the wiser. He wants to go to the farm again, he wants to have another piece of you. Just one more taste, just one more. He waits until late in the day on the following Wednesday and, avoiding traps he and his patrols helped set, he rides out and sneaks onto the property from the neighboring fields. Hank is working out in the far pasture and doesn’t even notice Joel’s surreptitious arrival.

The house is unlocked and he goes straight to your room, this time laying down in your bed, letting himself soak in the scent of you wafting off the sheets. He thinks of you crawling in the bed every night at the end of a long day working your ass off on this farm, a big change from the cushy life you had back home. He knows you only get a bath once a week here, and he can smell your scent on the sheets strongly. He smells sweat, dirt, farm animals, and a trace of tangy milk. You must change the sheets when you get back from your bath. This must be the most pungent they smell all week.

He grabs his dick overtop his pants, he can feel it already hard and aching at the thought of you. He wishes he had more time to lie here, to really be able to enjoy himself, but he made up an excuse to Tess and she’ll be suspicious if he’s gone too long. He takes his hand away from the front of his pants and instead grabs your pillow, throwing it over his face to breathe it in a final time. He gets up, adjusting himself, and takes a step towards the door before he doubles back and snatches your pillowcase off the pillow, stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

—

He’s panting slightly as he makes his way in the back door of his house, having had to jog from the stables, cutting through the town park so he’d be back before Tess started wondering where he was. Kerri gives him a sideways glance and an empty smile, quickly turning her head back to her meal preparation. Tess and Sasha come up from the basement holding jars of preserved vegetables. 

“Where you been?” Tess asks.

“I told you,” he tries to stifle his heavy breathing. “I had to help Peter out with his solar panel issue.”

“But Peter’s wife Georgia just came by here not even ten minutes ago and asked how you were doin’,” she says, looking confused.

“Yeah well it wasn’t at his house,” Joel thinks quickly. “He’s been tryin’ to get it fixed up for little old Miss Betty, out– umm… over there by the woods.” He picked the most remote, home-bound person he could think of, hoping it would cover his ass.

“Oh, she needs power? For what?” she asks, setting down the jars on the counter with Sasha, not giving Joel her full attention anymore. He uses the opportunity to move out of the kitchen towards his office.

“I dunno, just helpin’ out Peter,” he says and then ducks out of the room before she can question him further. 

Once he closes his office door he pulls out your pillowcase from under his shirt and balls it up to his face, sniffing it more. He sticks it in the bottom desk drawer under the maps, where he keeps your lost pair of underwear, your rejected christmas gift, and the book he took from under your pillow on his previous visit. Something scratches at him from deep inside, something that might resemble guilt. He shakes it off. He has nothing to feel guilty for. If you want underwear, books, or your pillowcase so bad you can come back home and have them. 

—

He can’t even wait until next Wednesday to go over to the farm. Sunday morning rolls around – he’s spent all weekend planning this moment – and he gives a well-rehearsed speech to Tess about being sick. He doubles over in his bed and clutches his middle, groaning until her face softens and she puts the back of her hand to his forehead the way his mom used to. She brings him some water and rice and tells him to get some rest before heading to the services with everyone else in the house.

Once he’s left alone he jumps out of bed, throwing the covers off like a child on Christmas morning. He knew that if he went to church he’d be able to see you, maybe fill a little bit of his craving. But since he doesn’t really look at you, how much of you can he actually see? Knowing that Hank would bring your entire household to the service meant the farmhouse would be empty. He can sneak over there while everyone is preoccupied and have his fill of your scent, of the ghost of your presence. He needs this, he tells himself, he needs a little bit more before he stops, before he gets over you.

He doesn’t want to take a horse this time, wants to leave no trace of where he’s going or risk anyone seeing him riding out. Most of the town is at the church service but he wants to be extra cautious. He heads out the back door and ducks into the trees beyond the yard, making the long way around the populated square to hit the fence-line. He finds a well-worn path through two fence sections and, avoiding the traps he knows are there, darts south towards the farm. 

Joel’s knees are aching by the time he hits Hank’s property, heart pounding and feet throbbing, having set a brutal pace to make the trip in just about thirty minutes. His chest is heaving to catch his breath as he crosses over the creek and walks up the small hill to the old farmhouse standing like a silent monument above the pastures.

He takes his time on this visit, going through your side of the dresser, recognizing the clothes you had before, touching the fabric with his fingers that he would feel beneath his touch whenever he held you in the mornings. He looks in the closet – mostly Amber’s clothes – but sees a nice dress in there he assumes Hank intended for you to wear to church. Joel’s never seen you in a dress, maybe no one here has either, since you’ve certainly never worn this one. 

He takes off his clothes and climbs in your bed, lying face flat on your pillow, and smells you. Not your soap or shampoo, but you, the real you. The you he used to smell when you were at home, when you were in his arms, when you were his. Before you left him, before you broke him, before he was empty. He slowly humps against the bed – his cock rubbing the worn, softened sheets – and thinks of you. 

He imagines you coming back and catching him, throwing your arms and legs around him, crying how much you miss him and kissing him until he agrees to take you home. His come spills on your sheets and he throws the blanket back over top, leaving the mess for you to find. Part of him hopes you know it was him. He puts half his clothes on and then begins to get sleepy, having stayed up half the night going over and over in his head his plans for today. He lies down on top of the bed just to rest his eyes for a moment.

He doesn’t hear the horses pull up with the wagon outside, or the door opening and people entering the house downstairs. He doesn’t hear anything until there’s footsteps on the stairs coming towards where he’s still half naked and just awake. Shit. He jumps up and grabs the rest of his clothes off the floor, kicking his boots under your bed and jumping in the closet just as Amber bursts in the room, humming a hymn and babbling about how she wants to make soup to send to him. You hum in assent but otherwise say nothing.

He wishes he could see you, but he’s pushed himself into the closet and to the side as much as possible. He is half-covered by a mothball-smelling crocheted cardigan and a mildew-smelling old raincoat. He hears the soft sounds of fabric and the wooden creak of dresser drawers, then you both silently shuffle out of the room and down the stairs. He waits a long time until he's sure the coast is clear and manages to get himself dressed, pull on his shoes, and make it downstairs. 

He hides in a closet for several hours, hearing Amber and her mother all around the first floor, cleaning and cooking and gossipping to each other. Where are you? Are you in the hayloft like Amber said you like to be? Are you feeding goats or milking cows? He wants to see you but he knows he has to go, knows he’s stayed too long. Everyone has been back at his house for hours and Tess will most definitely be wondering where the fuck he went to. 

It’s mid-afternoon by now and he knows he can’t waste anymore time. He ducks out of the closet and runs for the closest patch of trees as quickly as he can. As soon as he’s in the cover of the woods he starts thinking of the shit show he’s gonna walk into. Tess is gonna give him the third degree. He left no note, no indication of where he would be. What excuse is he even gonna give? He played sick so convincingly and now what is he gonna do? What can he tell her that will be believable? 

His mind is racing with a hundred different thoughts and he’s trying to ignore the sting of the cold air in his lungs and the burning of his thighs as he presses forward up another hill. He’s sure that’s why he misses the trap. Because he knows where they all are, he helped set almost every single one. He has a map in his office with all of them marked off, directs the patrols to check and maintain them. He knows better. But he’s distracted. You’ve distracted him. This is all your fault. That’s all he can think as he feels the trap clamping over his ankle and the biting pain shooting up his leg. This is all your fuckin’ fault.

Joel loses his balance quickly as the counterweight trips and yanks his leg out from under him. He sees the whole world flip and feels the fire of tearing flesh licking up his leg. He comes to rest with his shoulders on the ground, his head brushing against the fallen leaves, but the lower half of his body lifted up in the air, strung up in the tree by his ankle. Shit, this is a good trap, he was so proud when he thought of it and now he can confirm that it’s quite debilitating and extremely painful. 

—

The sun has started setting when Joel hears a single step behind him and he whips his head around, facing a lone figure, light hair braided over her shoulder, pack on her back stuffed full. Sasha.

“Hey honey… I didn’t hear ya coming,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, Joel,” she looks him over quickly, “That’s kinda the point.”

She opens her mouth to ask a question – probably something akin to what the fuck are you doing out here – but then she looks southward, towards the still-visible fields of the dairy farm, and back at him. She closes her mouth, deciding not to ask something she already knows the answer to. Instead she looks him up and down, taking in the scene in the fading light.

“You uhh… you want me to get you down from there?”

“Well what’s the alternative, honey?” He motions around. “You gonna leave me here?”

“I could…” her face remains impassive, considering her options, “But Tess would probably miss you.”

Joel lets out a huff and gives her a partial smile, it’s as much as he can manage having been stuck like this for far too long. Sasha throws her pack down and fishes some bolt cutters out of the back, reaching them above Joel’s ankle and cutting a chain link rather easily. Joel's body unceremoniously slams down to the forest floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she mutters, kneeling down to check him over. “What’d you think was gonna happen when I cut it?”

“I dunno honey but I’m not a fuckin’ gymnast. I’ve been hangin’ upside-down for hours, so I’m kinda at the whim of gravity right now.

“Well twinkle toes, good thing you’re not training for the olympics, because your leg looks absolutely fucked. We need to get you to the clinic ASAP.”

Yeah yeah yeah Joel grumbles, grunting and groaning as Sasha helps him to his feet, leaning into his side so she can support his weight on his bad side.

“Is your horse nearby?”

“Didn’t bring a horse,” he sighs.

“Joel, we’re still over a mile away from home and your leg–”

“Well we better get going then, huh?”

“But, Joel–”

“Time’s a wastin’ honey, let’s go.”

—

By the time the doctor finishes wrapping Joel’s ankle, he can already see the blood seeping through the bottom layers of the bandages. She’s given him some expired meds for the pain that are managing to take the edge off, but he’s still extremely uncomfortable. He’s not gonna tell her that though.

“I’m gonna need to see you tomorrow to clean and redress this wound.”

“I can come by after–”

“No,” she interrupts. “No, Joel, I’ll make a house call, you shouldn’t be walking on this at all. This needs to be elevated so the swelling can go down.” She wraps the second layer tighter and Joel bites back a noise. She notices. “That’s why it’s leaking like this, you didn’t elevate it,” she scolds, and then murmurs under her breath, “And you walked a mile on it.”

“Well I knew you made house calls but I didn’t think you’d make middle-of-the-forest calls.”

She makes a noise that sounds like hmmm, and grabs another roll of gauze to keep wrapping around. He’s not sure if she bought his story, that he and Sasha were scavenging together and he wasn’t looking where he was going, but she removed the trap from his ankle and gave him a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. He didn’t even realize she had all of that here but she opened a locked cabinet and there was a secret stash of medicines, just waiting for him.

Since he was hanging upside-down he didn’t lose much blood and the doctor told him she doubts there’s a broken bone, given that the trap clamped down above the ankle bones and more into the meat of his leg. She is worried about infection, of course, and said that the way it pulled on his leg could take a while for the muscles to heal. How long did Sasha leave you hanging there she kept asking and he kept explaining that they’d split up to cover more ground, and she’d found him when he missed their meet-up time.

“I think that’s enough, Doc, quit fussin’ over me,” he tells her as he shifts on the bed to get up. “Get Sasha for me and I’ll head home, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it elevated.”

“Sasha left after she dropped you off Joel,” she leans back and points to the doorway, where one of the clinic staff has rolled in a rusted wheelchair. “We’re gonna take you.”

“I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Oh cut it out, you already got your tetanus shot.”

—

He gets out of the chair and stumbles up the front steps, forbidding them from helping him through the door and promising to elevate his leg and keep it that way, trying to keep his voice in a whisper and not disturb the house. He hops inside and his fears are immediately realized when he sees Tess waiting for him at the dining room table. Their eyes meet and they stare at each other in silence for a long while before she rises out of her chair and points to an empty one.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says, walking into the kitchen.

Joel sits in the chair and Tess comes back in, motioning for him to put his leg up on the bench next to him, setting a cloth ice pack gently on his injured leg. She slowly sits down and resumes looking at him. A long silence passes between them.

“You gonna make me ask?”

“Ask what?” he says casually, then she pins him with a look and he drops all pretense, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure Sasha already told you.”

“She didn’t tell me why.”

“Why? You already know that too.”

“I know you were out there at the farm, Joel, sneakin’ around, messin’ with her stuff, fuckin’ with her head, I don’t know what all you get up to. But why, Joel? Why?”

“What do you care, anyway?”

“Why can’t you leave her alone?” she hisses

“Why is that any of your fuckin’ business?”

Tess slams her hand down on the table and hisses, “You made it my business when you brought her into my house.”

“Your house, is it?”

“You’re goddamn right it’s my house, and I take care of everyone in it. I sent her to the farm to get some relief from you and your behavior, and you can’t show one ounce of self control? Who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t think–”

“No, you’re not thinkin’, that’s the problem,” she interrupts. He’s stunned into silence. “I’ve taken a lotta shit in my life, Joel, and I’ll keep taking it if it’s for the greater good. I’ve followed you around for years and I’m loyal, but I ain’t stupid. I see you slipping. Everyone does. Everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed for you… you gotta play your role.”

“I’m tired of it,” he whispers.

“You’re not tired of everything it gets you.”

He grumbles at that and mutters something like it doesn’t get me what I really want, and she knows he means you. She knows he still wants you, even when he pretends like he doesn’t. She sees the way he purposely avoids you and looks the other way when you come near. It’s all bullshit bravado, and she fuckin’ knows it. She knows he’s sad, lonely, heartbroken without you. But she needs him to either put up or shut up. Admit it or move on. She can’t have him stuck in this loop of destruction.

“Leave her be, Joel. It’s done with her, it’s over.”

—

Two weeks go by in a blur, Joel doesn’t sneak away to the farm, he avoids Amber at the Thursday meetings, he steers clear of you at the Sunday service. He goes where Tess tells him to go, meets with who she tells him to meet with. His leg heals well and he’s back on his feet much sooner than the doctor expected him to be. He spends his days working with the gardeners in town to get ready for spring planting, and the evenings working in his office to schedule patrols and plan maintenance for sections of the perimeter fencing. 

He keeps his head down and keeps his mind occupied. He starts to feel better, and then he’ll lie in bed at night and he’ll hear the door to the tiny room across the hall close and remember you’re not there. It cuts like a knife in his hollow chest, the slow thumping of his heart echoing in its empty chamber. He feels bad for going the whole day without missing you and his stomach gets tied up in knots over everything that happened. 

He tries so hard not to think of you, to keep his mind busy with anything else… until he can’t. Until everyone stands up as he introduces Bianca’s baby to the community and then everyone sits back down and there you are. You’re standing in the middle of a pew halfway back, staring daggers through him. Looking at him like he just slapped you in the face. He can’t help but look at you – for the first time in over two months – and watch you come undone.

He sees you run out of the sanctuary and only Tess’ iron grip clawing at his elbow keeps him from running after you. After the service he tells her he’ll meet them in the hall for lunch and she reluctantly leaves him, mouthing behave yourself as she goes.

And then you’re in front of him again, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes. There’s so much fire in yours, he hasn’t seen you look like this since the first day he saw them, backed into a corner of the clinic like a trapped animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce. You start snapping at him, biting him with your words, and he can’t fucking help himself. He bites at you right back. Every sharp barb of your tongue, every click of your fangs, he’s spurred on to hiss and claw in response. You call him a liar and then tell him you don’t care when it couldn't be more obvious that you do. 

Why won’t you just admit that you care? Why won’t you just admit that you miss him? Why are you so afraid of the truth?

You brush by him, purposely knocking his arm with your shoulder as you exit and when he turns to follow you he sees Tess in the doorway. She walks up to him and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until her arms close around him and he’s sobbing into her shoulder.

“She hates me,” he heaves.

“She doesn’t hate you, Joel,” she hushes.

“She does. She thinks that was my baby.”

“Did you tell her it wasn’t?”

“No,” he sniffles.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Cause I’m incapable of doing the right thing. I just keep fucking up,” he sobs. “I keep doing the wrong thing every fucking time. I grab her, I hurt her, I say the wrong thing, I fuck it all up.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he wails.

“I do, I know why.”

“Why then?” Joel sniffles.

“It’s easier for you to push her away than it is to let her in.” 

—

Joel is sitting in silence at the dinner table later that night, mindlessly picking at his plate, lost in his thoughts. The meal has long-since finished and the women are clearing the table, moving in and out of the kitchen and talking with each other. Beth is excitedly telling them about a barn cat who had kittens last year and everyone is gushing over the talk of adorable kittens. 

Joel remembers Sarah finding two abandoned kittens after a soccer game one cloudy May afternoon, two flea-infested little rats hiding behind the practice field’s bathrooms. She’d carried them in her shirt back to him, all three of them crying, begging him to let her keep them. He said no a hundred times but still wound up driving all of them all the way across town to the only vet’s office open on a Saturday. Hundreds of dollars later they were stuffed full of medicine and food and were sleeping curled up in the crook of Sarah’s neck. 

She told him she understood when he said they couldn’t keep them forever – allergies, he’d explained – but that didn’t stop big, fat tears from rolling down her face when she placed them into the arms of their new owners.

“You did such a good job taking care of them,” he’d told her, wiping away her tears. “You should be so proud. Look how big they got! You did that! You gave them a shot at a great life.”

“You did it too, dad,” she’d said, hugging him, telling him he also did a good job.

He didn’t do shit, he just couldn’t say no to her. And she thought he hung the moon. She thought he was some kind of a saint. Joel Miller, patron saint of disgusting, sickly little kittens. The man she thought he was… he could never be that man. Not then. Not now. Not after everything he’s done.

And then he realizes he’s sobbing again, at the dinner table, and everyone is staring at him. 

“Y– You okay, Joel?” Beth asks.

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I was just… thinkin’ about Sarah.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Kerri says.

“Can everyone give us a minute?” Tess says.

The room quickly clears and Joel is still sputtering and sniffling at the head of the table. Tess sits down next to him and he slides off his chair, kneeling on the floor and burying his head in her lap, tears rolling down his face and soaking her jeans. He’s muttering I can’t lose her too and sobbing and Tess thinks this might be it, he might finally be ready to face it.

“What’s wrong, Joel?” Tess asks gently.

“She left me, I fucked up and she left, I don’t deserve her, she hates me, I’m a monster and she hates me and I don’t do anything right and I just fail over and over and she can’t stand me and all I do is–” his cries, devolve into a blubbering mess.

—

It’s just before midnight and the house is dark and quiet. Only a lamp in the living room casts a glow on them – Tess and Joel on the couch – where they’ve been sitting and talking for hours. He’s finally calmed down, having talked through months-worth, if not years-worth, of feelings with her. Things they’ve already talked about, things she’s suspected but never had confirmed, and secrets they’ve kept even from each other. It felt cathartic, like a weight lifted from the both of them, and they sit in companionable silence before they head up to bed.

A loud, frantic knocking at the front door makes both of them jump. Tess goes to answer it and all Joel hears is a tandem of words, spilling out like a waterfall so quickly he can only catch some of them. Not in bed… looked everywhere… can’t find... He gets up from his seat and heads to the door, freezing when he sees Danny and Diego’s harrowed faces standing on his darkened porch.

“W– what’s goin’ on?” Joel asks, looking between the two men and Tess.

Tess grabs his arm, bracing him.

“She left.”

🖤

NEXT

As always, muchas gracias to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk for sticking with me through my highs and my lows, my slumps, and my manic incessant babbling about CJ.

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 @vickie5446 @lilipads

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Chapter 17

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.2k

chapter summary: Joel follows through on that promise of a phone call. 😏

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), reader wears lingerie with gusset fastenings (picture whatever you'd like), phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (f & m), Joel talks you through it

Chapter 17

Saturday, November 2 Tenth week of the semester

On Friday and Saturday, you and Joel texted a bit, but he was clearly busy with Sarah’s tournament and his family (which grew in size in your mind every time you learned more about them – how many cousins did he have, anyway?). 

You spent Saturday with Beth and Ellie.

“What’s this project about?” Beth asked Ellie as she flopped onto the couch next to her. She’d brought coffee and donuts, again, and the three of you were sitting around the strange, flat sculpture-thing Ellie had brought over and set in the middle of your coffee table.

“We’re supposed to pick a historical event and do a presentation on it.”

You and Beth both squinted at the thing on your table. “Is this a historical event?” 

Ellie sighed. “It was going to be the Emu War, like that’s supposed to be the plain and a town, but I realized I have no idea how to do the emus. Like, I can use little plastic soldiers for the humans, but what the fuck do I do for the emus?”

Beth had started giggling the second Ellie said “Emu War” and looked like she might fall off the couch.

You turned your squint to Ellie. “Was there a list of events to choose from?”

She looked shifty and wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Maybe,” she mumbled, tucking her hands up into the sleeves of her hoodie..

You raised your eyebrows. “Was the Emu War on it?” You had a feeling it wasn’t.

“No,” she muttered, confirming your suspicions. “But she said I couldn’t do the moon again. And I didn’t want to pick some boring, snoozefest historical event! What’s cooler than emus?” She crossed her arms, indignant. Beth teetered sideways as she giggled. You noticed she was laughing so hard her laughter had gone silent.

You sighed. “Did it say you could pick your own?”

She nodded, and then shrugged. “Yeah, but she said she’d grade it harder.”

Setting aside your thoughts on that grading strategy, you replied, “ok, well, sounds like you can choose the Emu War then. So what are we going to do about these emus?” You heard Beth snort and turned to find that she’d buried her face in one of your throw pillows.

Ellie started to explain her plan for demonstrating the different parts of the war on her landscape and you started poking Beth in the leg to get her to find her composure. It sort of worked.

“Hey,” Beth took a deep breath and made a soft “woo” noise as she breathed out, clearly trying not to laugh. “We can go over to that hobby store, the one with the model trains. Maybe they have little figurines that would work.”

Ellie perked up. “Yeah! I bet they have all sorts of weird little guys. And model shit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, let’s head over there now. Maybe we can get lunch on the way back, and then you can plan your battle.” Ellie grinned and jumped up to lead the way to the front door. You caught Beth’s eye but quickly looked away as you felt a laugh pull at the side of your mouth.

By the time you’d gone to the store, retrieved all sorts of “weird little guys” and “model shit” for Ellie, and helped her plan her presentation, it was well after dinner. Beth volunteered to drive Ellie and her historical event home, so you found yourself alone and putting laundry away, wondering if Joel would manage to find some privacy as he’d said. There was a party of some kind with his family that night, and he’d sent you a couple of pictures of a crowd of dancers, Sarah among them, smiling. Ellie had caught you smiling down at your phone earlier and teased you for it mercilessly.

Around 10:45, your phone buzzed as you settled into bed with a book.

Joel (10:44 PM): You free, honey? I just escaped.

you (10:45 PM): sure am 💕

** incoming FaceTime call from Joel **

When his face came into view, you noticed he looked tired. 

“Hey there, handsome. How was the party?”

Joel smiled, and you could see the fatigue in his expression. “Still going. They made me dance too much, but otherwise fine. I’m beat. How are you, gorgeous?”

You smiled at him and settled into your pillows. “Nothing exciting here. Just cleaned up a bit, did some laundry. Well, I did spend the afternoon with Ellie and Beth. Helped her with a class project.” 

Joel looked wistful for a moment. “Sounds nice. Would like to spend a day like that with you.”

You smiled, and felt your cheeks heat. This man. “You’re welcome to join us anytime you’d like, but I can’t promise much excitement with laundry. How was the tournament?”

He settled back into his pillows and you noticed the unfamiliar room. “Good, Sarah’s team played well. Didn’t win every game, but they did win most of ‘em. They’ll play in the final games tomorrow.” 

“Tell her I said congratulations and good luck.” 

“I will. What was Ellie’s project about?”

You laughed. “The Emu War, in Australia. We had to go out to that model train store to get her some little figurines for her mockup.” Joel laughed, too, shaking his head.

“Everything I hear about your niece is like a new adventure. I can’t wait to meet her.” You grinned at him. 

“I can’t wait to introduce you.”

You were silent for a moment as you studied the room he was in. 

“Joel, where are you?” The bed looked small and the room had some interesting decor. 

He laughed. “I’m in my cousin’s son’s room for the weekend, he’s away at college. Left his room looking like it did when he was in middle school, I’d guess. Sarah’s in with her little cousin.” He panned the camera to show you decor you would in fact associate with a 14-year old boy. There were even some pictures of women clearly cut out of magazines and taped up on the wall at the foot of the bed.

“I see you have some inspiration keeping you company,” you teased. 

Joel turned the camera back around so you could see his face, and raised an eyebrow at you. “Baby, if you think I’m looking anywhere but at you whenever I can see you, you haven’t been paying attention.” 

You smiled and bit your lip. “Flirt,” you accused. 

He grinned. “Guilty, honey, but you love it.” You rolled your eyes. “Aw, come on, bet you miss me.”

You hummed. “Well, I don’t think I could say no to that and be at all convincing.” He laughed. “Yeah, Joel, I do.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I miss you, too. Been thinkin’ about you all day.”

“Oh? What about?” You raised your eyebrows and tried to adopt an innocent look.

He eyed you, and somehow you could tell that he was checking you out. You moved the camera slightly farther away to give him a better view and he smirked. 

“Been thinkin’ about what I might do if I had you with me, tonight, instead of on the phone. Been thinkin’ about what we might do instead.” You licked your bottom lip in anticipation and you watched him watch you do it. Feeling suddenly inspired, you raised the hand not holding the phone and rested it lightly on your chest. His gaze darkened as he stared at it.

“Tell me what you were thinking about, Joel.” You wanted to sound commanding, but your voice was too breathy, too affected already.

“I thought about a lot of things, darlin’. Thought about how my pretty girl likes to be touched, to be held. Thought about all those pretty noises you made in my bed, ‘n how much I want to hear ‘em again.” Your breath caught and you watched your own mouth drop open on the screen. He grinned, almost feral. “Why don’t you take off that shirt, honey, let me see you.”

You nodded, and hid your own grin behind the shirt as you pulled it off. You’d been hopeful when you’d gotten dressed for bed a while ago, and you thought he’d probably like the lace you were hiding underneath. Before you could see him again you heard him inhale sharply and you threw your shirt across the room. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, and you saw that he was staring at your chest. Good. “Honey, s’that for me?” He sounded breathless and you loved it.

“Yes, Joel,” you smiled around your response. “Was hoping you’d call.” He groaned, eyes slipping shut briefly. 

“I need to see it, baby. Show me the whole thing.” You didn’t know what to do with the phone. You glanced around, grabbing some of your extra pillows to prop it up in front of you. It put him at your feet, looking at your legs and at an angle up your chest, to your face. If you opened your legs right now he’d be looking straight at your pussy through the lace of your lingerie. The idea sent a thrill through you.

“Honey, you are so fucking gorgeous,” he praised, eyes dancing over you as you laid in front of him. You grinned, propping yourself up on your pillows so he could see your face, too. 

“I think you need to take off those clothes too, cowboy.” He nodded and began to strip himself out of his clothes. You watched, intent.

Soon he was positioned similar to you, but propped on his side with the phone against a pillow in front of him. It gave you an amazing view of his bare chest and you turned your phone sideways to fully appreciate it. His hand slid across the bedspread towards the camera like he was reaching out to you.

“You want me to make you feel good, honey?” Your breath caught in your throat and you nodded. “Yeah? Want me to tell you what I’d do if I were there right now?”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed.

“How’s this?” He looked you over. “Why don’t you spread your legs for me, honey, show me what I’m working with.” You smiled and did as he asked. He nodded. “That’s perfect, honey. Showing me everything. Showing me how good you look in that lace.” He sighed. “Move that pretty lace to the side for me, sweetheart. I need to see you.”

You scrambled to do as he asked, but realized he couldn’t see the details of your lingerie – the snaps as you undid the fastenings in the underwear were loud, and you knew he could hear them. “What–” he started, but you laid back again before he could finish, legs wide open for him to see. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed. “You are so gorgeous. What I wouldn’t give to touch you right now.” 

“How would you touch me, Joel?” You watched as he slid one of his hands into his briefs and gulped. 

He grinned. “Any way you want, honey. But I’d start with my fingers on your pussy. Look at you. Are you wet already?”

You nodded, then realized he might not see it, and said, “yes, Joel, always.” 

“Good girl. Spread that wet pussy for me baby, let me see.” 

You reached down to do so, and then realized the camera might be too far away for this. You rearranged the pillows, bringing him closer and you heard him groan as you fell back to do as he asked. With your left hand, you reached down to spread your folds wide for him, and then changed your mind and added your right. With both hands, you spread your pussy wide open and he moaned.

“Fucking hell, you are so fucking beautiful,” you heard him shift on the bed and wondered if he was touching himself. He must be. “I’ll never get enough of this, honey. Shit.” 

You hummed, using your left hand to keep yourself spread open but moving your fingers to begin circling your clit. You sighed into the feeling. “Joel, what now?” 

“Just like that, baby. I’d touch that pretty little clit, get her all worked up for me. Just like that.” He sounded breathless, just like you felt. “Tease you with my fingers. Maybe my tongue.” You moaned. “Yeah, did you like that? The way my tongue felt on your pussy? Inside?” 

You nodded, and managed, breathily, “yes, Joel.” 

“I know you did, honey. Could feel it. Could see it.” You could hear it now, the sound of him fucking his fist. It made heat rush up your spine. “Can’t wait to put my mouth on you again. I want to lick that pussy for hours next time. Just drown in it. Fuck.” 

The mental image made you think of what you’d been wanting, couldn’t stop thinking about, and it slipped out. “Next time is my turn.”

“Hmm, baby? What?”

“My turn,” you said in a stronger voice. “Next time I’m getting my mouth on your cock.”

“Fuck.” He sounded like he was falling apart. 

“Don’t even have to wait for our date,” you breathed, trying to speak loudly enough for him to hear you. “I want to get on my knees for you in my office, handsome. Lock the door and take my time, ah–”

Joel’s deep, growling groan cut you off. “Fuck. Is that what you want, hmm? My dirty girl?” You nodded, but you had no idea if he was looking at you. “Honey, you can have it whenever you want. You know how pretty you’d look, with your mouth around my cock?”

“Yes,” you moaned, but he didn’t stop talking.

“Would you like that, honey? Getting on your knees for me right there in your office? Where anyone might hear you?” His words washed over you as you felt the heat start to build from your core all the way up your spine.

“Joel–”

“Shit, baby, let me see you put your fingers inside. Just slip ‘em inside, honey.” You moved your left hand down from your clit and teased at your entrance. He hummed to encourage you, and you curled two fingers inside. “Such a good girl, hmm? Doing so good for me.” You felt a shiver travel down your spine. 

“Miss your hands, Joel.” The words left your mouth on a sigh, and you opened your eyes (when had you closed them?) to look for him. He had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock and he was staring straight at the camera.  

“I know you do, baby. Those little fingers are nothin’ like mine, right? Not enough to fill you up.” You shook your head. “I know, my pretty girl needs something bigger. Needs to take it.” You watched as he jacked himself faster, and you sped up your fingers in response. You nodded and whined out, “yes, Joel.”

He grinned. “That’s right, honey. Next time I see you I’ll give it to you.” You slipped another finger inside, imagining it. 

It was too much, and not enough. Suddenly you needed more, but you didn’t know what. You whined again, and you watched him furrow his brows.

“What do you need, sweetheart? I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that.” His eyes were dark under his brow and you watched as he twisted his hand around the head of his cock. “Why don’t you move those fingers faster on your little clit, baby. Don’t you want to be good and come for me?” Your breath hitched and you nodded.

“Yes, Joel,” your voice was barely there, but he heard it. 

“I know you do, honey. Let me see it. Let me see you come for me, just like that. Never seen anything so pretty.”

You could feel it coming, licking at the bottom of your spine like a fire about to catch. 

“Can’t wait to have you in my bed again, gorgeous. Can’t get it out of my mind, how good you looked. How right.” You shuddered as your orgasm came hurtling towards you. “Right where I want you, nowhere else. Now let me see it, baby. Give it to me. Come.”

It was like your body was waiting for him without knowing it. As soon as Joel commanded it, you did.

The orgasm washed down your body like the tide going out, pulling and dragging you under as you cried out his name. Your chest heaved as your muscles locked, spine arching off the bed. 

You rode it out, feeling sparks tingle along your arms and legs. Distantly you heard him choke out your name as he followed you, and your eyes flew open again to watch. You managed it just in time to see the thick ropes of his cum paint his naked chest. 

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You watched his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths, as labored as your own. Slowly your heels slid down the bed as your legs fell flat against your blankets and all the tension left your body. You weren’t sure if you could move your arms.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel almost whispered, sounding wrecked. “I ain’t even touchin’ you and it’s the best I ever had. Better than I ever imagined.” You nodded.

“Me too, Joel.” He smiled and reached out for the camera to bring you closer. You did the same. Your eyes darted over his face as his smile grew.

“Honey, I swear I wasn’t planning to jump right in like that. Just can’t resist you.” You laughed. “You tired, darlin’?”

You sighed. “A little. Talk to me until I fall asleep?” He nodded. 

“Let’s clean up, meet back here.”

You did, and soon you were on your side under your covers with the phone propped up on the pillow in front of you. Joel smiled at you again, silently, and you finally narrowed your eyes and asked, “what?”

He shrugged. “Just lookin’, gorgeous.” You felt your cheeks heat, as always around this man. “Wish I were there with you.” 

“Me too, Joel.”

He smiled. “Can I come by for lunch on Monday? We’ll be getting back late tomorrow, or I’d just beg to come over then.”

“I wouldn’t stop you, even if it’s late.” 

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’.” You laughed. “I can see you fallin’ asleep.” You blinked your eyes wide and he smiled. “It’s ok, I just wanted to say something real quick.”

You yawned, but sat up a little so you’d hear what he wanted to say. “Can’t help that you gave me a workout, Joel.”

He grinned, but quickly sobered. “Sarah told me what you talked about. I– I’m glad you know. Just wanted you to know that. I wasn’t keeping it from you, or anything.”

You shook your head. “No, Joel, of course not. She told me how careful you are with talking about it.”

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I just want it to be up to her, really. But yeah, I’ll tell you all about it. There’s some stuff Sarah was too little to understand, between her mom and me. But maybe another time, when you aren’t about to fall asleep in front of me, honey.”

You shook your head again, trying to wake up. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“No, it’s alright, I just wanted to say that. We got plenty of time, after all. I’ll see you Monday?”

You nodded. “Monday.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

…

Sunday, November 3 Tenth week of the semester

Joel (7:32 AM): Have a good day, honey. Woke up in a good mood today, for some reason. Hope you did too. 

you (8:37 AM): 🥰 sure did, handsome

Joel (8:43 AM): Good. 😉

...

a/n: look Ellie to me is the type of teenager who would think the words ‘Emu War’ were hysterical and then lock herself into an absurd class project because of it. see you next week!

tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites @fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes @islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer

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[katie-luvr]

🌸 Peach 🌸 ~ katie mccabe x reader

an ~ this is the first one! thank for your service @lessi-lover! love you lots 🫶🏻

(katie mccabe x arsenal!reader)

~

today marked the beginning of a new chapter in your career; your very first official training session as one of two latest signings to the arsenal women's team, fresh of the high after being dubbed as 'the one to watch' during the 2023 world cup.

just a few days prior when the documents had been signed formally at the grounds, you had been given the chance to meet up with a couple of your national teammates, a handful of them already signing for london clubs.

moving to arsenal just made sense. it was always red and white for you. you were dressed in the red london kit before you could even walk, and the fact that you already had so many teammates living in england just made it all the easier to pick up the pen and sign.

you truly felt like you were on the top of the world, signing for your day one club, it was truly the height of your career and you still had so much longer to go.

having a quick breakfast with two of your older teammates in town, you felt more than assured by their words that you and your other teammate kyra, were going to create an incredible impact towards winning more titles and trophies this year.

the girls explained to you that this season they wanted to use the new signings to create more depth in the squad, become a stronger team and create a more meaningful connection with the clubs fans, and overall keep their reign as one of the most prominent clubs in europe.

"you excited to meet the girls, peach?" the aussie forward asked you, as she scanned her eyes over the menu. "they can't wait to meet you, peach. i've already got beth and jen lining up to go house shopping with you next week!" the other aussie added, fiddling with the leash connected to her dog's collar.

"peach?" caitlin worriedly questioned, as she watched you zone out of the conversation. "off with the fairies again this one." steph giggled as she poured you a glass of water. "yeah. yeah, of course i'm excited." you answered, although the hesitation in your voice was hardly convincing.

"it's okay peach. every footballer no matter how talented would be nervous to move to one of the most esteemed clubs in all of europe." she bragged, patting your shoulder, as your eyes widened further.

"not helping!" steph scolded, jabbing the side of her teammates arm, as she leant over to place a more comforting hand on your shoulder. "anything you want to tell us peach?" caitlin said, now with a more understanding tone as she spoke. "nothing its stupid." you responded quickly, shifting your eyes downwards nervously. "hey nothing you ever think is stupid, peach."

"we're your teammates, your caretakers and most importantly your friends. you can tell us anything that's bothering you, okay?" her gaze supporting, her hand moving comfortably up and down your arm.

caitlin nodded in agreement beside her teammate, genuine concern in her eyes, as they both waited patiently for your response. "no, don't worry about it." you quickly interjected, waving off their concern with a forced smile. "i can manage on my own. really, I appreciate the concern, though."

"alright, peach," steph said with a gentle nod, a silent look towards your other teammate that you would speak again whenever you were ready to share. "just remember, we're here for you. no pressure, no rush. when you're ready, we've got your back."

~

"you excited? you excited? you excited?" echoed the relentless voice of a young australian in your ear, each sentence coming with a jab to the side of your arm. talking in the back of your teammates car, you found yourself staring nervously out the window, a pointless attempt to quiet your thoughts as they raced rapidly through your head.

turning towards the blonde, you gave her a deadpan look, "kyra cooney cross, what do you mean, 'am i excited', of course i am!" you mocked, poking your finger into her chest with every word.

you tried desperately to put on your signature fearless persona, however your voice betrayed you as you trembled out the last few words.

kyra having already been signed for at least three weeks now, awfully tried to console your nerves even hitting you with, "hey, if they don't like you, you can always move countries." this only made you feel even worse, and you let yourself sink into your car seat.

"oi, peach, ky, we're here." caitlin said as she turned off the car engine. taking a deep breath, you released all your nerves. steph opened the door from beneath your elbow, causing your body to fall backwards, almost completely onto the ground. a sharp chill ran through you, as a gust of wind brushed past your skin.

the london weather was already making you want to book the first flight home back to sunny australia. you brushed down your clothes, feeling steph pat the top of your freshly washed hair.

"hey, watch the hair, i need everything to be perfect today!" you said in a a stern voice as caitlin and kyra exchanged a glance over your shoulder. "peach your gonna be just fine, i'm telling ya, no ones gonna care if a few pieces of your hair are sticking out." caitlin assured you.

"your going to be just perfect." ~

now dressed in your new kit, you made your way over to the gym. as today was the start of the season, you had been told that these strength and conditioning sessions would be a primary part of your program for the next couple of weeks. the anticipation of the waiting season filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

walking out the changing room, you felt as if you were living in a dream, although the high slightly out of your reach. the sound of your sneakers slid against the floor of the hallway, your body swirling with different emotions. "you ready peach?" kyra asked, lifting her arm over your shoulder as you walked.

"is katie a nice person?" you responded frantically, as you and kyra made your way through the building. you bit the side of your mouth anxiously, nervous that kyra would only further prove your thoughts. "yeah. i've only known her for a couple of weeks, but she's really funny!" kyra answered enthusiastically. nodding her head, as she fixed her sleeves.

the last time you had encountered the irish girl was back in august at the world cup, australia versus ireland. you could say this game left quite the impression on you, even if you spent majority of the match on the bench.

the intensity of the game, the clash with your close friend katrina gorry, had you painting a picture in your mind that was hard to shake no matter how hard you tried to move on. although, hearing your best friends words of her fellow teammate, painted a picture in your head that was at odds with your expectations.

but before you could ask more about kyra's experience with the brunette, steph suddenly appeared next to you, a bright smile on her face. "some of my best mates are headed over to meet you!" the defender exclaimed in an excited voice, grinning from ear to ear.

the introduction of several of her teammates did nothing to calm the turmoil of feeling racing through your body. if anything, it only made your heart race further, and your excitement heighten. a group of girls made their way over to you, dressed in the training kit, their faces smiling.

as they drew closer, you felt your nerves settle, as each player kindly introduced themselves to you. "hey, you must be the one and only peach!" says a loud blonde, as she wraps her arms tightly around your body, engulfing you in a hug. "beffy don't scare her away!" a tall brunette said, her scottish accent shining through her words.

"it's so great to finally meet you! we have heard so many amazing things about you." a girl spoke, the number thirteen in bold on her top. you felt your cheeks heat up, the tips of your ears burning at the attention you were receiving from your new teammates.

a couple more girls made there way over, many of them familiar with you over the course of your world cup journey as you properly met a series of players from the swedish national team. then came the english girls; leah, alessia and lotte, before viv and laura also came introducing themselves and sending you a small welcoming wave.

moving into the gym, you completed a series of intense exercises, the gym alive with the sound of chatter, weights clanking on the ground, shouts of encouragement, and the collective huff of your teammates pushing their limits.

it was in the middle of an exercise, one in which you were paired with a very irish girl for a partner drill. the realisation that you hadn't introduced yourself to her hit you like a pile of heavy bricks, your mind short - circuiting and delaying your thoughts. you hadn't spoken directly to her, and of course it was your fate that partnered you with the one person you'd hoped to avoid.

as she walked over to you, you attempted to greet her, "heyyy... so im uh, umm-" you stuttered awkwardly, your face flushed a deep pink. "peach?" she finished off, voice laced with amusement. using your nickname, sending you a wink as she lifted weights onto the bar.

"so, why do they all call you peach?" she asked, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity as she lifted the bar with such ease. you felt the blush creep further up you face, almost spreading over your whole body. "its a long story but-." you mumbled, fingers fiddling together. "she just can't help it. she always blushing, so the aussie girls named her peach." caitlin interrupted you, giggling as she watched you redden once again.

the rest of the training session was what could be described as pure discomfort for you both, as katie tried desperately to keep the conversation going to fill the awkward silence you had created. the both of you moving around each other with such difficulty that you'd wished you just stayed completely still.

finally it was as if the trainer had heard your prayers, he rung the bell to signal that the session was over.

quickly you rushed on over to the water station, swiftly grabbing a clear water with your name bolded on it. "-want to come with the girls tonight?" as you twisted open the cap, a distinctive accent caught your attention. turning around with your bottle in hand, you were faced with your earlier partner, a hopeful look on her face.

"care to join the girls tonights? beth's organised a small get together at a quiet bar downtown." she asked, her words accented with her signature cocky grin, as she lifted her shirt upwards to wipe her sweating face.

the brunette had invited you to go for dinner with her and the team. your face lit up brightly, as a smile took over your face. "of course, wouldn't miss it." you responded eagerly.

it was in that moment that you finally felt complete. as if all your hard work to get into the team of your dreams had finally paid off. a feeling of belonging fluttered in your chest. "perfect. see you there, peach," she grinned.

you felt like a gunner, you felt like you fit in and you couldn't wait to prove yourself to your team.

~

"hey y/n!" you heard a voice call out from the carpark. turning around, you saw your teammate alessia, quickly hurrying out the door to catch you before you left. although, before the the blonde could reach you, she stumbled clumsily over the curb, landing flat on her face, her bag falling freely out of her arms and onto the pavement.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, rushing to her side to lift her to her feet, as she picked up all her things. "never better. are you coming tonight?" she asked urgently, a sense of anticipation in her voice. "yes, katie asked me a while back. i'll be there." you answered. smiling up at the tall girl, as you watched her break out into a cheeky smile that you couldn't quite place.

"can i come over? see the new house... and maybe.. i don't know.. pick your outfit?" she requested, but you missed the mischievous glint in her eyes that came with it. "alright less," you giggled, brushing a strand of your hair back.

driving your way through the busy streets, you handed alessia your phone, the blonde responding with a smile as she entered her number. "so how do you like london?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "london? it's incredible." you replied, letting your eyes rake over the various tall city buildings.

"the clubs, the players, the city, the buildings, the people, - it's amazing. it's exactly what i dreamed of."

the striker nodded at your words, her eyes sparkling with her shared agreement. "i know what you mean, it's as if the city never sleeps. i just have to show you some of the special spots around here." you chuckled, nodding your head that you would have to go out sightseeing eventually.

pulling up to your apartment, you guided alessia up the elevator and into your living room, a series of unpacked boxes littering your floors. "steph and cait were meant to come over to help me unpack, but they just spent their time with whiskers." you explained to the blonde, as she explored your house.

"whiskers?" she questions, her brows furrowing, as she tried to understand you. "whiskers!" you yelled out, your voice bouncing off the walls. "oh." you said contentedly, gesturing to a small grey cat curled up in the corner. "he's friendly, you can go up and say hello if you want." but you weren't even halfway through your sentence as the english girl raced over to greet him.

~

"hm. what about this one?" alessia asked holding up a sparkly dress with a hopeful expression. the striker having poured the entirety of your freshly organised wardrobe all throughout your bedroom, clothing and shoes littering the once clean floor.

"it's just dinner, less. i hardly think a tight black dress is casual enough." you chuckled, body flopping backwards onto you bed. "oh cmon! i'll even wear something similar! all the girls will wear them."

she tried to convince you, waving the small dress around in front of you face. "less.." you mumbled, frowning up at the standing blonde as she faced you. "oh please!" she begged, her mouth forming an upset pout, as she clutched the dress close to her chest.

"oh fine" you agreed begrudgingly, sighing as the striker smiled at you. rolling your eyes, as her face lit up in excitement, a cheeky grin plastered on her lips. "you're going to look amazing! we're going to have so much fun, i promise!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"blush, less?" you asked, gesturing to the light palette in your hands. "if you don't mind!" she answered, taking it from your hands with a wink. sitting down at the vanity, you both began to get ready, although you're sure you spent more time talking rather than anything else.

giggling over the blondes stories of her england camps, and your own, you both bonded over each others individual stories. "you just started choking?" you breathed out, laughter stuck in your throat, as alessia told you stories of her younger self, from when she was first called up to the U15 teams.

"and you wouldn't believe the looks i got when my own coach had to help me spit the meatball out! it was so humiliating!" she chuckled, her face flushed in embarrassment as she recounted the story. "only you could manage that, less." you giggled, the sides of your mouth turned up in a cheeky grin.

"only you could manage that!" she said cockily, continuing to apply a light amount of makeup to her face. "what do you mean, less?" you responded, brows furrowing inwards as you tried to understand the blonde's words.

"i mean only the one and only y/n could receive a follow from the devil herself you know." she answered, waving your phone in your face. you could see a notification at the bottom of your screen, 'katie_mccabe11 started following you.' you frowned at the message, although you quickly went to follow her back.

"you got the devil part right." you sighed, switching off your phone to rest beside your elbow. "she's coming tonight ya know." the striker nods, again the mischievous glint in her eyes appeared, which only spurred you on further.

"i know. she invited me actually." you confirmed, body turning to face her, as you caught her smirk in the mirror. "really?" she grinned, shaking her head, whilst you sat there confused. "didn't think she'd have the guts to ask you out!" the blonde laughed, her hand falling against her chin, smiling at herself.

"what do you mean, less?" you said, pushing away your makeup, as you tried to pull the distracted girl's attention towards yourself. "oh nothing. just that she has the biggest crush on you, like ever!" she blurted out.

"oh my god! you didn't hear that!" she said worriedly, her hands coming up to slap against your ears, a look of true regret in her eyes, as she tried desperately to make you unhear her words. "uhh." she mumbled anxiously.

"that didn't happen! none of this ever happend! i- uhm! i was never here!" she shouted, racing around your room to pick up her belongings, as she raced out the front door. your chest tightened, a familiar feeling settling in your chest that you couldn't quite place.

you felt a slight tinge of a real blush coat your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning at the blonde's confession. "no way." you whispered dismissively. katie rarely ever talked to you, and there was doubt in your mind that your friend was just making things up.

surely katie didn't actually like you?

~

[dameronscopilot]

I don’t know anything about Yellowstone besides it’s yeehaw cowboys…but I’m gonna assume someone needs to do bookkeeping. And I just would love your thoughts on someone lucky enough to be doing the books along with keeping some cowboy’s cock nice and toasty warm.

write off

kayce dutton x f!reader

18+ — thigh riding, cockwarming, p in v

"Kayce," you whine, the pen nestled between your fingers clattering onto the surface of the kitchen table as the man beneath you shifts in the chair you're both seated in.

"Hmm?"

His chin rests in the gentle curve between your shoulder and neck, stubble scraping against your soft skin as he lifts his head to nose at the corner of your jaw.

-

Admittedly, when you ran into Beth Dutton in town and caught up with her over coffee a few months back, you hadn't expected to find a job less than a week after moving back to Montana—as a bookkeeper for the Yellowstone, nonetheless.

And you definitely hadn't expected your years-old, dormant attraction to her younger brother to come flaring back to life the moment you ran into him—literally—on the house's familiar, old covered porch.

You'd felt a little pathetic at the time, realizing just how quickly you'd taken stock of the empty expanse of skin where a wedding ring used to sit as Kayce reached a hand out to steady you, catching the papers that slipped from your arms in the process. But the embarrassment swiftly transformed into something else entirely, because despite John's gravelly warning to the gaggle of ranch hands and their wandering eyes not to bother you during your weekly visits (in which you were to sift through years worth of questionable paperwork and eye-watering numbers galore), one particular cowboy deemed himself exempt from his father's words.

Somewhere in between quietly shared coffees as you poured over the mess of books and impromptu trail rides when Kayce cajoled you into taking a break when the furrow between your brows had grown too deep, you found yourself working out of the foreman's cabin that he was living in, rather than the living room at the main house.

At first, it was for the quiet. No interruptions from people coming and going, bustling about.

But it became something else entirely when Kayce brushed a kiss across your cheek in the doorway as you clutched your car keys in your hand one night.

When you found yourself pressed up against a wall days later, his breath fanning across your lips before he leaned in to slot his mouth over yours.

When Ryan and Walker both tried their damndest to flirt with you while you were saddling up horses in the barn, thus delaying your plans to ride as Kayce cornered you in an empty stall after they left with a tick in his jaw. The annoyance had quickly faded as you kissed him though, his mouth hot on yours, hands tightly grasping your hips as you shamelessly rode his thigh until you were whimpering against his lips while you trembled with your release.

When your work was all but forgotten the following week after you playfully swiped his cowboy hat off of his head and put it on yours, paperwork sliding off of the coffee table and fluttering to the floor as Kayce fucked you right then and there on the couch.

-

So the position you find yourself in now has now become a regular occurrence—the skirt of your dress bunched up, panties pushed aside, Kayce's cock nestled thickly in your wet heat as he slides down one of the thin straps resting on your shoulders, lips feathering kisses along your shoulder blade you're in the middle of working.

You can't say you don't love the challenge of trying to pick your way through millions of dollars worth of transactions while your body blisters with periodic tremors of pleasure at the feeling of your cunt clenching down on Kayce's shaft as he patiently waits for you to finish.

Sometimes you're able to get it all done.

But other times—

"Baby..." he murmurs, hips rolling upward as his teeth graze the sensitive spot at the back of your neck.

"I'm almost done."

A sound of protest leaves his lips. "Finish it later."

"But—" You gasp slightly as he pulls downward on your hips while he presses deeper inside of you, the feeble argument dying in your throat.

"Please."

And all it takes is the subtle gesture of you pushing aside the paperwork for you find yourself being lifted up and bent over the table as Kayce nudges your thighs further apart before sinking right back into your dripping folds.