Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Meet me at the field at 8.

That was the note Greta had found barely peeking out from under her pillow. It wasn’t signed, but the redhead had a fairly confident guess who it was from. After only a brief hello, Carson was dragged off by Maybelle. She heard something about the kids wanting a catching lesson.

There was a lot to talk about between the two of them. Did Carson really not go home with Charlie? If not, where had she been? Did she even have feelings for Greta anymore? Knowing that this was the first night with everyone in the house, and likely the garage would be in use… meeting at the field made sense. They could speak openly, figure out what life would be like for the next few months, and, selfishly, Greta hoped the flame would re-ignite.

Greta’s energy as she padded through the grass was one of excitement and cautiousness. As she walked down the third base line towards home, she was hopeful and eager to see the woman who had opened her up again. But she was also prepared to guard her heart. Carson went out to find herself. Maybe things had changed.

“Carson?” Greta yell-whispered. “I know darkness is the point, but with the sun setting I can’t see anything,” she trailed off.

“Hey.” Greta felt arms wrap around her waist, and Carson’s body was suddenly flush with Greta’s back. Carson shifted onto her tiptoes and brushed Greta’s hair off her right shoulder. Greta sighed gently as Carson planted light kisses on her shoulder and neck. 

The breathlessness was replaced by the redhead’s megawatt smile. “Hi.” A deeper kiss landed at the delicate spot between Greta’s spine and shoulder blade. “My God, I missed you,” Greta breathed. Carson loosened her grip slightly to allow the taller woman to turn. Before Greta was fully face-to-face with Carson, she felt hands on her lower back, sliding lower to cup her ass, as Carson closed the distance.

“Ooo!” Greta exclaimed, their hips colliding. She had hoped Carson would want to pick up where they had left off last season, but didn’t expect this level of confidence so soon. Lord knows it had taken Greta at least a few years to feel comfortable leading a moment like this. 

“Well this is unexpected. Not unwanted,” she said as she raked her fingers through Carson’s hair, “but don’t you want to talk? I’m sure a lot’s happened…”

“Well, yes… I mean, yeah… obviously we need to talk… and I’m a talker…”

With the last few rays of sunlight, Carson could see Greta quirk an eyebrow.

“Fuck… I just want to fuck you right now.” Carson moved her right hand to the back of Greta’s shoulder.

“Oh, do you?” Greta retorted, playfully challenging Carson.

“Shut up.”

Even if Greta had wanted to speak, she physically couldn’t as Carson’s lips crashed onto her own. Carson’s left hand was suddenly intertwined in Greta’s hair, pulling the taller woman down to Carson’s level. Greta involuntarily let out a moan, and she could feel Carson proudly smile against her lips. “Jesus Christ, Shaw.”

In that moment, Carson slowly pulled away.

“Too open. Meet me in the dugout.” Carson had taken on a completely different tone than her stuttering earlier. The catcher pushed off of Greta, backtracking her way down the steps, eyes never leaving Greta, knowing how much the taller woman liked to watch her. 

“Yes, Coach.” Greta uttered, dumbstruck and flushed, wondering what the hell had gotten into the shy, (not) farm girl she met last season. 

Carson’s eyes had not wavered. She was now sitting on the bench, elbows on spread knees, staring up into Greta’s eyes. Carson brought a hand up, and used one finger to beckon the taller woman into the dugout. That was all Greta needed to break her out of the trance she hadn’t realized she was in. After a couple stutter steps, she found herself bounding the final few feet into the dugout, pumps softly tapping on the solid concrete steps. In a flash, Carson was up off the bench, her hands on Greta’s hips, guiding them towards the support post in the middle of the dugout. 

Greta let out a small gasp as her back thudded into the post. She felt Carson push up onto her tiptoes again, this time to nibble at her left earlobe. Carson’s hands dug into Greta’s hips, using them as leverage to balance herself. Greta gave into the sensation, tilting her head sideways to allow more access.  As Carson continued, Greta found it hard to keep in the breathy moans, finally releasing just a few.

“Shh…” Carson reprimanded the first baseman while relaxing her hands and dropping back down off her toes, only to capture Greta’s lips with her own, effectively silencing the woman. Carson’s hands then traveled up to cup Greta’s breasts, knot in her hair, and generally wreak havoc on Greta’s nervous system. The kisses turned messy as Greta writhed, losing more and more control.

After what seemed like forever, Carson paused to make eye contact with Greta. 

“What are you doing to me, Carson Shaw?” Greta asked, breathlessly.

Without reply, Carson smirked mischievously, right hand sliding down Greta’s torso, then onto her hip, and down her leg to the hem of her skirt. Once there, Carson used her forearm to push the skirt up, all the while brushing her fingertips lightly up Greta’s outer thigh. 

When she reached Greta’s hipbone, she began winding her way towards Greta’s center at a glacial pace. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Greta looked at her incredulously, knowing what Carson was referencing. “Or do you want me to bring you home?”

“God, no.” Greta breathed. 

“Wait,” Carson pulled her head back and froze. “You need… Are you ok,” she stumbled over her words, worried she’d done something wrong. Or moved too quickly. 

“The first question, sweetheart. Not the second.” she explained between deep breaths, hips shifting to try to get more friction “Bring me home, Shaw”. Carson’s hand found its way past the final cotton barrier and Greta felt nirvana just over the horizon. Carson wasted no time, slipping  a finger into Greta’s soaking wet center. Her thumb found Greta’s clit.

It didn’t take long before Carson felt Greta’s muscles clenching around her finger. Greta’s breaths became more shallow, and Carson brought a hand up to her mouth to stifle them. 

“Let go, Greta. I’ve got you.” Carson said as she added a second finger. After all this buildup, that was all Greta needed as fireworks exploded in her brain and she bit the shorter woman’s hand to stay quiet as she rode the waves of pleasure. Carson continued to help Greta down to earth from her aftershocks.

Slowly, Greta felt her mind reconnecting with her body. She released her bite on Carson’s hand and let her head drop back against the post. Carson’s hand glided lightly down the front of Greta’s blouse and came to rest on her hip. The taller woman took a few moments to focus on the ceiling of the dugout and breathe. After her heart rate had slowed, she raised her head off the post to look at Carson.

Holding eye contact and Greta steady, Carson eased herself out of Greta’s heat, causing the taller woman to tense once more against the post, then, as all her muscles released, drop her head onto Carson’s shoulder. Carson could then feel Greta’s light sighs against her neck. 

Instead of holding onto her waist any longer, Carson’s hand shifted into Greta’s locks, recognizing the longing for intimacy. 

“I really did miss you, Greta.” Carson said, breaking the silence after several moments. 

Greta hummed contentedly.

“I’m glad you found my note,” Carson continued.

“I’m glad I did, too.” Greta replied gently. 

The two fell silent once more.

It wasn’t until the sound of some neighborhood kids in the distance jarred them from their blissful bubble that Carson realized if they were going to talk tonight… or continue with other things… they should probably find somewhere more secluded. 

“Hey,” Carson got Greta’s attention, thumb gently nudging at her jaw, prompting the taller woman to meet Carson’s gaze.

Greta found her lips subconsciously mimicking Carson’s, as they had so many times last season. They formed a “hey” in response to Carson, but no sound came out. 

The smaller woman beamed, knowing they were falling into old rhythms. But it was even better than before. 

“So, what do you say we go back to the locker rooms? We could talk or… or… whatever…”

Greta pursed her lips, smiled, and nodded. Carson’s hand dropped from Greta’s chin to grasp her hand. The catcher stepped back and led Greta up the steps and around the corner towards the unlocked locker room door, picking up a staged flashlight along the way. This night was going exactly as Carson had planned. Now all she had to do was hand over the light to Greta, hold the door, and disappear. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

Greta flipped the flashlight on, cocked her head back towards Carson with a quick smile, and entered the locker room. The first baseman sauntered in, her eyes panning around the place where she had found a family one year ago. The flashlight beam swept across the walls from left to right. Carson had stepped into the locker room following Greta, and also gazed around the room.  After a few moments of thought and reflection, Greta settled on the bench in front of her locker. Carson then moved to the post, where the team had inscribed their names last season. Her fingertips grazed over each name. Greta watched silently. After a beat, Carson moved toward her locker, leaned back against it and lifted her eyes towards Greta. 

“So,” Greta began timidly, “you still with Charlie?”

Carson let out a deep sigh. She knew the question would come.

“No.”

“Oh!”

“You’re surprised,” Carson noted.

“Yeah. I mean, a little bit. I didn’t think…” Greta dropped her eyes to the floor, just as Carson cut in to fill in the blank. 

“That I’d choose you.”

Greta’s eyes flew up to meet Carson’s.

“Well, I did,” Carson continued, and Greta’s face morphed from shock to joy. “Listen, Greta, if you want to hear all the messy details about my divorce tonight, I’d be happy to give them to you, but…” Carson pushed off the locker she had been leaning on and began a calm stalk towards Greta. “We have months of nights ahead of us, and all I’ve wanted to do since that day on the porch is this.”

“Oh, is that so?” Greta retorted. She stood, and the flashlight beam dropped from the ceiling to the ground. Carson nodded, closing the distance, but not quickly enough. The first basemen darted to her left, confusing the shorter girl. Greta’s response was to cock an eyebrow and back-pedal in the direction of the post.  

“Catch me if you can, Shaw!” Greta teased, finally forcing Carson into motion.

“Is that really how you’re going to play this?” 

“Mmmhmm.” Greta replied, sweetly as she rounded the post. Carson, realizing what direction she would head, cut her off on the other side, darting between the post and Greta’s locker. 

“Ooo!” Greta sounded, impressed. “Well the way I see it,” Greta began backtracking around the post as Carson followed, “if you’ve been day-dreaming about this since the last time I saw you, you’d be willing to work for it a little…” Greta flirted as she brought her left hand to the top button of her dress and popped it open, exposing the tiniest amount of cleavage. The flashlight beam threw shadows across her chest. 

Carson groaned in response and stepped towards the post, clearly planning to catch the taller woman whichever direction she went. 

Greta turned her head, took in her surroundings, and planned her next move.  She sprinted towards the far end of the bench she had been sitting on, hearing a yelp from the brunette as she took off. Greta rounded the bench only to see that Carson had correctly anticipated where she was heading. The catcher stood, arms crossed, at the taller woman’s locker. Startled, Greta’s foot caught the leg of the bench, sending her off-kilter and reaching for something to steady herself. 

Suddenly, two hands gripped her forearms and backed her up against her own locker. Carson took the flashlight from Greta’s hand and set it, face up, on the end of the bench nearest them. 

“Was that enough work? Or should we go again?” Carson’s voice dripped with double entendres. 

“No,” Greta whispered, encompassed by want.

“No to what, Gill?” Carson demanded. 

“No, not again. Fucking kiss me, Carson.” 

Greta threw her hands into Carson’s short hair, pulling the woman in for a passionate kiss. Carson’s hands left Greta’s forearms and found their way to the front of the taller woman’s dress, where she made short work of the next three buttons. Her hands snaked under the fabric of Greta’s dress, right hand cupping a breast while the left hand trailed across her abdomen and side. Greta moaned into Carson’s mouth, and in response, Carson’s teeth captured Greta’s lower lip. 

Whimpering, Greta untangled her hands from the shorter woman’s hair and immediately grabbed Carson’s backside. She tried to pull Carson closer, but Carson didn’t budge. Instead, her hands left her perch on Greta’s chest and removed Greta’s wanting wrists. 

“Uh-uh.”

Greta’s eyes snapped open, looking concerned. 

Slowly, Carson moved her lover’s hands to the top shelf in the cubby behind her. 

“They don’t move.” Greta could only nod at this new development. Carson, satisfied that Greta would do as she was told, swept her hands down Greta’s arms, then down her waist, and came to rest on her hips. She kissed Greta’s lips once more, before planting kisses down the side of her jaw and neckline. Her lips moved tantalizingly slowly. The brunette could tell it was getting to the redhead by the way her chest rose and fell. Carson savored every moment. She kissed her way across the taller woman’s collarbones, then dropped lower to kiss along the hem of her bra. Carson brought her left hand up, hooking a finger into Greta’s bra and tugging down to expose the nipple. The catcher pulled back slightly, making eye contact with Greta, flashing a devilish grin before latching her teeth onto Greta’s breast, just under the bra line. 

Greta let out a full throated groan, which spurred Carson to bite down even harder. 

“Bruises! Carson! Bruises!” Greta’s breath hitched with every word. 

“Yes. That no one will see.” Carson reminded. “I know I need to be careful. And we can’t forget the rules. But that’s not going to stop me from riding,” she emphasized as she rolled her hips into the taller woman, “that line. Understood?” 

Greta swallowed, deep emotion in her eyes along with the lust. “Yeah.”

“Good. Now where were we?”

Carson dove back to the spot she had been assaulting moments before.  

Greta, now fully allowing herself to let go, was growing more vocal.

“Ugh… Carson… Don’t stop… Oh, fuck…”

The catcher and first basemen had fallen into a rhythm - Carson and Greta’s hips rocking. Carson’s lips pulsing against Greta’s breast. Carson’s fingers flexing on either side of Greta’s spine.

“Carson…” Greta whined, begging for friction, or pressure, or a finger, or anything to send her over the edge. 

Carson pulled back.

Greta whimpered.

“Lay down on the bench.”

“Sorry?”

“You heard me. Lay down.”

Carson backed away from Greta, giving her space to follow the directions given. Greta, still right on the edge of release, let go of the shelf above her head. The lack of support, coupled with the shaky legs Carson had just given her, left her unable to stand on her own. She leaned against the side of the locker, eyes to the floor, looking uncharacteristically disheveled and almost entirely spent. 

Carson watched from a distance, taking a mental picture of the Greta Gill that no one else ever got to see. 

After a few moments, Greta had regained her balance enough to make the move from the locker to the bench, opposite the flashlight. She eased herself onto the end, back to the rest of the bench. Her eyes finally lifted to Carson’s. She found Carson closing the distance, deliberately. Not too fast, showing Greta who was in control. But not too slowly, either. Carson clearly didn’t want to wait too long for what came next. 

Carson’s foot nudged Greta’s legs apart with her own, so she could stand between them. Carson then brought her hand to Greta’s shoulder, encircled the strong muscle, and eased it backwards, causing the rest of Greta’s upper body to follow.  

“I said lie down,” Carson reiterated. Her other hand reached up to tweak Greta’s nipple, eliciting a loud groan. Carson smirked and knelt before her lover. In one swift motion, the shorter woman flipped Greta’s skirt up her legs, exposing her underwear. 

“Lift” Carson hooked her fingers into Greta’s underwear, and as Greta bucked her hips up in compliance, pulled the undergarment past Greta’s knees in one swift motion. With some prompting, Greta lifted her left foot off the ground to allow Carson to leave the underwear dangling around one ankle. “That’s better.”

Carson’s nails trailed up the outside of Greta’s calves, then thighs, a different sensation than Greta had felt from the catcher before. When she arrived at the top of the redhead’s thighs, Carson wrapped her hands around to the inside, locking the other woman in place. 

“Now.”

Carson smirked hearing Greta’s voice. And descended into her lover’s wet heat.

Carson had been lucky enough to receive this kind of treatment from Greta in the past. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. From the moment she had come down from her high in the convent, she knew she wanted to return the favor. Wanted to taste what Greta had tasted and feel the response of another person’s body to her own. 

Greta threw her left hand into her hair, searching for something – anything – to hold onto. She made no attempt to be quiet, and the brunette reacted with increasing fervor to match. 

Carson’s left arm lifted Greta’s leg to rest on Carson’s shoulder, adding pressure to the place Greta wanted it most. 

In response, Greta’s other arm flew from Carson’s hair to the bench over her own head, needing something solid to anchor herself. In the process, her wrist collided with the flashlight, knocking it onto the ground. As it clattered and rolled, Greta shrieked and lifted her head to find the fallen object. 

The light bounced off various surfaces in the room as it rolled - the lockers, the sinks, Carson. Carson… One hand holding Greta’s own leg steady. The other? Down her pants, moving in time with Greta’s hips. 

“Holy shit.”

When the light stopped rolling, it wasn’t facing Carson, but that didn’t stop the image from being burned into Greta’s eyelids as the smaller woman continued to eat her out. 

The combination of sensations, memory, and imagination launched Greta over the edge, forgoing any semblance of quiet or control. Her full body convulsed and contracted, squeezing Carson to her. Carson’s left hand dropped Greta’s leg from her shoulder, needing to find release for herself. Groaning into Greta’s center, a hand in her own heat, and one on her breast, Carson joined Greta as waves of pleasure overwhelmed them both. 

“Oh my…Holy…Jesus, Carson.”

Carson lifted her head from between Greta’s legs. “Was that ok? Is that, like… something you liked?”

“Okay? Liked it?” Greta said in disbelief. “Watching you fuck us both damn near melted my brain. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my head.” Greta sighed deeply, sitting up to see Carson more easily. 

Carson sat back on her heels and began to redo the buttons of her own blouse.  

“Carson.” The shorter woman looked up to see Greta staring into her eyes. “Stop fixing your shirt and come sit with me.”

Greta gently lowered herself to the ground and leaned against the wall of the lockers. She beckoned Carson into her arms. 

“Come on.”

“But you’re.. We’re…” Carson gestured to their various levels of undress. 

“I don’t care. Would you please come over here.” Greta pleaded, gently. Carson responded with a single nod and moved to join the taller woman. She found herself sitting between Greta’s legs, almost exactly like that night in the convent. Carson’s cheek rested against the taller woman’s chest. Greta’s hand reached up to smooth Carson’s hair, and the other hand played lightly on her thigh. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

Carson took a deep breath, and began to speak slowly at first, but picked up speed in her characteristic ramble. “I just… I wanted… I missed you so much. What we had last season… that was the most fulfilled I’ve ever been. And now we’re here, and I had no idea if you still wanted this, or me-”

Greta cut her off. “I didn’t stop thinking about you either. Wondering where you were, what you were doing,” Greta paused, “...who you were with.”

“No one else!” Carson blurted. Which was met with a nod and a smile from Greta.

“Calm down, cutie. It would have been ok, you know? You needed to experience life! We made no promises, except for coming back.”

Carson was silent. And Greta knew what needed to be said.

“For what it’s worth though… I didn’t either.”

Greta felt Carson smile against her. 

The redhead let out a quiet giggle, “But clearly you didn’t need to because, holy shit, Shaw!” Greta squeezed her sides, tickling the smaller girl. 

“Hey!” Carson yelped as she laughed and attempted to wiggle out of the strong arms of Greta Gill.

“Where’s that been hiding for a year? I do not care what I have to do to get us in the same room this season. I will do it. I swear I will do it. I will never wear pants out of the house again. I’ll be the goodiest two shoes that ever goody two shoed... “

“Ok! Alright!” Carson, still beaming, cut off her lover and turned to hold Greta’s face in her hands.

“Jeez, you’re such a talker…” Carson winked.

Greta snorted. 

Carson smiled even brighter and closed the distance for a searing kiss.