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This is very random but I honestly forgot the PR story existed and im going to be the reading it again for the first time in awhile and can’t wait to be amazed all over again lol
✧tags: slow burn, angst + fluff, hurt/comfort, references to BDSM, future (heavy) smut, non-football AU
There is no reason why they should work; Ona likes spontaneity, Lucy likes certainty. Ona is fiercely indepedent, Lucy has never been alone.
Oh, and Ona is a dominatrix, but Lucy can't part with control. Even when she wants to.
Perhaps they could both teach the other a thing or two about trust, and taming the urge to run from fear.
a/n: I do apologise for how long this is, but I chose to not split it into two parts on here as technically it is one cohesive prologue. also available on ao3 here for easier reading if you so wish :)
warnings; references to mental health, implied neurodiversity
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks,
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts
~
For Ona Batlle, the moments when she becomes someone she is not are true freedom. When her brain and body work together harmoniously, and she knows every melody, from every book, by heart. Note by precarious note. She can control the tempo with feather-light precision. Alert. Never missing.
For Lucy, her soul flourishes when she is free just to be. To indulge selfishly in the things she likes, to love someone, or something, without bounds, and give so much to it, without truly parting with anything at all.
For Ona, the silence between those moments of deep connection can be painful. Alone with her thoughts, she has no control anymore. So she seeks it out, manufactures it even. So now, she knows nothing different.
She had reinvented herself many times to become the girl, the woman, that Lucy took on a date three weeks ago. She wonders if Lucy had caught onto that fact, or if she is just that gentle and perceptive by nature. Or perhaps she had just stayed hopeful that Lucy is one to read between the lines.
Something died, between the realisation that they were truly something, and the moment when reality knocked them both unconscious. The time between it could not be mapped. Momentary, a glitch in the tape.
Had she ran? Had Lucy ran? For the life of her, she can't remember. And it only happened eight days ago.
Ona didn't smoke, but if she did, she'd imagine she might perch on the steps of her apartment building and think about this one for a long, long time.
Maybe she doesn't need a cigarette to be poetic. Maybe a bottle of wine on her balcony in nighttime practically-sub-zero temperatures would do the trick.
The door resists opening, having been sealed shut for many months at this point. Her balcony was only home to two empty plant-pots, and a slightly-rotting set of table and two chairs. Wrapped up in her wool trench, she takes a seat and drops her shoulders.
Maybe what made this experience so unshakable was that she really gave herself to it. She really believed, transiently, that she was lucky in this life for things to have aligned in the way they did. She accepted the unthinkable, filled herself with hope, ran for the medal, only for it to vanish without a trace.
It was naive, looking back, to assume it was that easy. That Lucy would waltz into her disjointed reality and settle in like her dog does wherever you seem to take him. Dogs are adaptable creatures, as are humans, but dogs have no object permanence. Dogs trust on fundamentals and don't even have the foresight to know that foresight exists. Dogs experience emotions very logically and very fleetingly.
Or did they?
The thought of her dog being depressed makes her very, very sad.
—
"So what brought you here in the first place?" Unbeknownst to Lucy, they were steadily approaching two years to the day that Ona made the sudden move to Manchester. Life packed away in three suitcases, she had left the sun for a burgeoning city of scaffolding, artsy cafes, and accents beyond her Catalonian comprehension. Grittier than London, but more gentle.
Especially the people. The people were good.
And she liked Lucy already. Theoretically, she did indeed possess all the traits Ona might, potentially, want in a woman; Lucy was charming, unguarded, well-versed on all worldly matters and niche philosophies, the whole package.
They had already covered the basics between the day they met at their best friend’s wedding and the avid texting that followed over the next two weeks. Ona was a marketing consultant for her brother’s company. Lucy was an accountant. They both had a history with football, liked good food, yacht trips in Ibiza, and their dogs. Was that it?
Ona squints a little at a speck of black in her martini glass. Is it moving? Lucy is watching her, awaiting an answer. Ona glances up, giving a look of soft contemplation, faintly smiling as she speaks.
"Nothing big. Just wanted a change, and I had some friends here, I liked the city, so why not?"
Lucy assesses the response, somewhere between scepticism and curiosity.
"Right." She replies. "Manchester is my home city so I only ever criticise it with affection. I still think about Barcelona practically every day though. It’s a great life, would you say so?"
Lucy spoke very fondly of her time living in Barcelona, Ona had quickly gathered. It was their first point of connection. Apart from sharing a best friend. Ona didn't let her complicated sentiments towards her home show, not when Lucy was so enthusiastic about it.
"Maybe it's less interesting when you lived there for twenty-something years." Ona offers, a tad more focused on appreciating Lucy's face quite brazenly. Something she's been silently doing all evening.
Not that Lucy hadn’t been doing the same.
Ona wonders why Lucy seems to like her so much. Did she like her? Or was she just unaccustomed to someone being interested in her, without the pretence of interrupting to talk about their own life and their own thoughts at the first opportunity.
Ona didn’t find herself particularly interesting. Others may say so, have said so, but she realises now she doesn’t much enjoy explaining herself. It’s an effort to discern the valuable parts of her story from the mundane, the attractive parts from the parts that shouldn’t be shared so carelessly. Every story has its moment, so patience is truly a virtue.
Ona wasn’t sure when her fascination with the unattractive parts of life began. Perhaps as a teenager, sat in a quiet, unregulated bar on a weeknight, when an attractive older woman had told her with morbid sensuality that she had sad eyes. Ona had scowled a bit. For the past hour she had been consoling this woman who was confessing drunkenly to every woe of her life at the present. Which was many. Is it such a pity if you do? Her fingers dared to curiously touch the tattoo that lay fresh on Ona’s forearm. Sadness is beautiful. Men appreciate sad girls like you. Who aren’t afraid of reality…
So if Lucy spoke about her ugly truths before sharing how many siblings she had, or what her favourite cuisine was, Ona wouldn’t have cared. She might have even preferred it. Maybe Lucy wants to…she just adheres to etiquette with far less cynicism.
"Probably. Novelty and all that." Lucy says softly, her legs shifting under the table for the umpteenth time.
Lucy had suggested this place for their first official date; a quaint Japanese restaurant, lavished with authenticity and low lights that painted her date in the best way possible.
Ona isn't sure if the guilt that had settled in her gut at the start of the evening had gotten better or worse. It was certainly still there, ever-present at every girlish butterfly Lucy effortlessly provoked. God, it's been a while since she last felt this way.
She had spent so much of her life feeling guilty, or shameful, over everything and nothing at all, that she could handle it for one more evening.
No, she didn’t really do dates. Not usually. Not those with the implications that this one had. That there would be another. And if they’re lucky, another after that.
Lucy made it painfully explicit. I am taking you on a romantic date, which is not a friendly hangout, because I find you attractive, and would like to pursue you, provided we have sufficient chemistry and common interests. We will not be hooking up. Entirely inaccurate to what Lucy actually said, but Ona penned those words to the back of her mind as they approached this evening. To remind herself, bluntly, to not act out.
"Got any more secrets you want to share, Ona?" Lucy says her name experimentally, already so sweet on the tip of her tongue. Ona lets out a genuine chuckle, stretching her neck back in fond disbelief.
"Let it go, I swear, I shouldn't have even mentioned it." Ona hits her with a grin. She was enjoying that Lucy felt comfortable enough to banter like this, even at the expense of Ona’s own comfort.
She had made the first unfixable mistake of the evening by hinting towards having a second job, of sorts, quite early on, and Lucy immediately caught Ona's reluctance to go further. Before the date, she knew it was the one thing to not, under any circumstances, be discussed. But Lucy frustratingly disarmed her.
"As long as you're not going to rope me into some elaborate crypto pyramid scheme, believe me, I’ve heard it all," Lucy, by all graces, doesn't seem too pressed about it. Not really. Just a bid to tease Ona, who raises her eyebrows judgmentally.
"Do I really look like the crypto type?"
"People can be full of surprises." Lucy's hands fail to remain in one position for too long, fiddling with the edge of the napkin now. She stops, when she catches Ona looking. Bored? Nervous? Jittery?
Lucy tells her a bit more about her job, the general of her day-to-day, but most of it she already knew. Perhaps it would be creepy to admit she hadn't forgotten a single word Lucy Bronze had said to her at Lucy Staniforth's wedding, the day they met.
It had surely been months of her best friend telling her about her amazing other best friend, who was single, and just Ona's type. Ona had brushed it off with eventual frustration. She didn't want to date, she didn't even want to meet Lucy Bronze.
Oh, but she did. She really did. So much so that she only half wanted to cancel this date in the hours leading up to it.
"Well, I have a side-hustle I haven't told you about." Lucy says, and Ona leans in curiously.
"I coach a girls’ team on the weekend."
Ona laughs a bit. Not mockingly, just surprise. She almost feels bad when Lucy looks hurt by it.
"That’s nice. Stanny wasn't kidding about you and football." Ona says fondly, and Lucy's sweet smile returns. "More of a hobby than a lucrative second job, though."
Lucy scoffs playfully. "As if I care about it being lucrative. Wouldn't be surprised if your supposed job doesn't even exist, just an elaborate cliffhanger to get me on a second date."
"Wrong. I will tell you, just not if you keep pestering me." Ona won't tell her though. Not yet. Not now.
"Say that again." Lucy smirks.
"What? Pestering?"
"Love it. Very British of you, Ona Batlle."
"It's pronounced like Bat-lle, actually."
"That is literally how I said it."
"You’re saying the ‘T’ all wrong."
"Batlle." Lucy repeats.
Ona sighs flippantly. "I guess I can take it."
It happens so many times, where she gets transfixed by Lucy and she's smiling without even realising, in fact they're both smiling at each other, for no particular reason other than this is good. Really, undeniably good.
Lucy's gaze becomes softer. Their hands, close on the table. Lucy reaches over, and Ona stiffens. Her hand isn't taken though, instead, Lucy presses her fingertip softly on a few of the freckles decorating the back of her hand. Examining them, counting them.
"You like them?" Ona asks with a sheepish smile.
"Yeah. I love your freckles. Even in pictures they were the first thing I noticed. Really, really pretty." She says, and Ona grins cheesily.
"Not to mention your smile."
Ona hates the way she tries to reject this feeling– the innocence of it all is overwhelming. She had a very low tolerance for sweetness. But that seems to be all Lucy is capable of.
"If we're choosing, I like your eyes. And everything else, but especially your eyes." Ona says with sincere affection.
"Thank you." Lucy smiles bashfully before glancing down. A question on her mind that she has to will herself to ask.
"...You're allowed to be honest, but am I your type?"
"In what way?" Ona replies.
"Uhm…looks, I guess."
Ona blinks. She hadn't really considered her type. Not in that way.
"I’d pick you out in a crowd.” Ona replies with a flirtatious lilt. “I'm very attracted to you, if that's what you're asking."
Lucy grins, as if not expecting an answer with such poignant sincerity. Ona told nothing but the truth though. Visually, aesthetically, physically...Lucy took her breath away.
Her type though, when she thought about it, was more about behaviours. She wouldn't know if Lucy was her type or not just from a dinner date, no, they would need a lot more than that.
“Can I ask you the same?” Ona eventually says.
Lucy’s face is incredulous, rendered quickly speechless as she looks at Ona, not wanting to risk messing this one up. It’s cute. “Type doesn’t cover it.”
—
"I can tell you didn't like that Stanny kept pushing us together." Lucy states with casual indifference as they leave the restaurant, full bill covered without a chance for Ona to question. Ona's head snaps towards her, hands in her coat pockets.
"What?" She answers with a polite smile of disbelief.
"Maybe you feel different now, but you did seem to avoid me for a long time. Just an observation. Could be wrong." Lucy says with retrospective affection.
Ona could be honest and say she was never opposed to her, but rather opposed to dating in general.
She sighs, casually. "Coincidence fools you, Lucy…but I didn't have to meet you to know I'd get flustered."
"...Hm. I'll take that."
Lucy's arm slowly settles around Ona's shoulder a few minutes later, initially catching her a bit off guard but she quickly slips an arm around Lucy's waist to equal the comfort as they walk down the street. Lucy had stayed sober with the intention of driving her home.
She is fucked. Really, really fucked.
—
The second date happened a week and a half later, Saturday, consisting of what was closer to their second, third, fourth, and probably fifth date consecutively.
Ona wanted to be clear on one point; it was never supposed to turn out like this. No dates, no texting all the time, no falling stupidly and uncontrollably. Thankfully she wasn't at that point, not quite yet, but if Lucy kept going, she might be in some serious danger.
These feelings, these moments, they were deceivingly innocent, but too addictive and indulgent to deny. Lucy made her feel good in a way that was so rare. The warmth of a best friend’s company, tinged with something deeper. Something more uncontrollable.
"You haven't even asked me about the job." Ona points out in a gust of thoughtless confidence as they walk off their brunch through Cathedral Gardens.
As soon as she makes the comment, her body flushes with heat. Fear. Why would she say that? What would she say now? She had nothing to say. She was too embarrassed. Suddenly.
"God I really haven't, have I. Go on then. I'm waiting. Tell me you can’t say anything because of an NDA."
Many voices interacted in the space of her mind. One thanks Lucy for her interest, excitedly planning the answer. The other throws a punch at the first, appalled at their blatant disregard for safety. Safety? As if Lucy wasn’t safe. As if Lucy could hurt her. Not here, surrounded by pretty flowers and when Ona had tried so bloody hard to make her hair and makeup so nice, so flattering.
Ona pauses. A long pause, one so tense that she can’t form a single thought despite a thousand passing through her at once. She crafts a lie - a brilliant one, but no- sex therapist. That’s close enough. Lucy chuckles softly, nudging her almost accidentally. “Come on then.” Is it weird? Is she incurably weird, and deeply perverted for this?
"So I'm a dominatrix."
Lucy stops walking. Her mouth half-open, eyes locked at the ground.
Ona’s heart plummets. She hated the word, really. It felt strangely degrading. Pretentious at best.
Had she just admitted to Lucy that she, the girl Lucy seemed to find endlessly cute and endearing, was secretly a massive whore of the highest degree? That she slapped and degraded strangers for fun? Like a psycho?
"Are you serious?" Her head snaps towards Ona after processing for a considerable moment. Her face is frozen in a half-smile. Ona tries desperately to know what that emotion was. Not anger, not disgust, but...amused disbelief?
Ona says nothing. Lucy's smile fades a bit as she catches onto Ona's genuine terror, pursing her lips.
"I’m sorry. I didn't want to tell you because I know it's weird to most people, and most people wouldn't-" She tumbles out some semblance of an apology, explanation, justification, she isn’t sure.
She feels herself going so red. Lucy, intelligently and considerately, interrupts her. "Right stop there, I don't judge, I really don't, but wow, no chance I would have guessed that. Unless you're pulling my leg, because I swear, I'm not that gullible." The corners of her lips raise to a grin, and Ona is so taken by it.
“…Lucy," Ona says in a breath, relaxing her shoulders with a nervous smile. "I'm serious. My heart is in my stomach right now." She says earnestly, and Lucy rubs her arm slightly ambivalently.
"Well, put it back where it belongs first of all. Think you'll need your heart for today. And I’m no prude, Ona." Lucy laughs to herself. Nervously.
Ona lets out a long-held breath as they begin to walk again, slowly, both eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Maybe let's sit for this one." Ona offers quickly after a moment of uncertain silence, where they both collect uncertain thoughts.
"Yeah."
So they sit down on a park bench, the irony of having this conversation in such a public space doesn't escape them. But life was full of moments so utterly ridiculous you're almost made to laugh. Ona looks again to Lucy for reassurance, which she doesn't want to do but finds herself doing regardless.
"I'm really not bothered by it, I'm just–surprised. And curious. How much are you...willing to tell me?" Lucy rests her chin on her hand to look up at Ona, her eyes always so wide and lively. Greener than ever with a rare reflection of winter sun.
Ona's hands are tightly wound on her lap, back straight, keenly aware and tense under Lucy's observing gaze. Sat, poised, in case she needs to up and run at any point. Lucy spoke with nothing but soft curiosity, and as much as she wants to believe Lucy is disgusted, she knows she isn’t. Lucy waits patiently, but is most likely certain now of Ona being a bit of a chaotic entity. Oh well, she could only hide herself for so long.
Ona sighs, breathing in slowly, before looking at Lucy with a new, softened resolve. She could do this. She could do this and Lucy wouldn’t hate her for it.
"Whatever you want to know. I'm a really open book, if that's the saying. And…I'm kind of used to explaining myself. So go ahead." Ona states with amicable indifference, and Lucy seems to be taken aback by the shift.
Ona didn't flaunt her slightly obscene interests to the masses, but it wasn't something she could easily hide from friends. She understood their curiosity, also understood that it simply isn’t for everyone. She had received just about every reaction, every assumption possible to the reveal of that information. So nothing phased her anymore, dare she say, it entertained her. But for some implausible reason, telling Lucy feels particularly damning. Particularly vulnerable.
You don't think I'm capable of that, do you? She says in jest to just about everyone who stares at her for a little while longer after she tells them, searching in her face for something new, something that they won't find. They can’t laugh at her if she turns the joke on them.
For Ona, her dominance comes in subtleties, flowering from gentle suggestion to a full-blown identity shift when she finds its perfect counterpart. It was and wasn’t her. Explaining it wasn’t easy. Her relationship with sexuality and love wasn’t easy; it would surely take months to unravel the extent of it with someone. Another reason why committed, safe people quite frankly, terrified her.
"I don't know where to start." Lucy confesses after lengthy consideration, still smiling a little. "I don't want to sound stupid, or disrespectful."
"Shall I explain it then?" Ona offers a gentle look to Lucy, who gives her a glance and nod. "Go on then,"
"So…for the record, I don't have sex with people. I'm not an escort or even close to that." She begins, script well-revised. Lucy gives a sharp nod, and Ona hopes that tidbit quelled just some of her fears.
"Got it," says Lucy, a slight contemplative frown persisting.
"It's…an intimate exchange, but not intimacy. People come to me, find me...however, and if we work, we work. It's more of a passion project, I don't even do it for the money. I mean, it's nice that it can be kind of lucrative but really it's for me. It helps me. In lots of ways. Does that make sense?"
Ona lets the sentiment settle before continuing. Had she made that too crude? Too euphemistic? It wasn’t an easy one to soften. She spoke about sex so often that it was quite neutral to her, no different to her day job, but maybe it’s stranger around Lucy, because, well…they haven’t crossed that boundary yet. And could - might - plan to.
Lucy seems to be taking it all in very reasonably, just deep in thought. Which could imply a multitude of things. Yet Ona still searches for the twitches in expression, the body language that suggests discomfort. Truthfully, she didn't know Lucy well enough to discern any of this. She only cares so much because she's grown to appreciate Lucy's perspectives, and in some entirely illogical part of her desires, she can't imagine being anything but perfect to her. As if that was in any realm of possibility. Ona was aeons and galaxies away from perfection.
"Oh yeah, it does. Not that I’m not an expert, but…I know it means a lot to some people and it's, like you said, a hobby..."
Ona chuckles breathily. "Yeah. Something like that."
"So...you have clients?"
"Yeah."
"All paid?"
Ona scoffs a laugh. "Usually. Yeah."
"Who are they? Like...how often do you do this?"
Ona uncrosses her legs. "Twice a week at most. It's intense, I couldn't do it every day. But for clients...I suppose they range." Ona thinks about everyone she has seen over the past month or two. They were all very nice, respectful, interesting people, some of whom you'd expect, but many who you wouldn't at all. That was probably her favourite part of the job.
"So it’s mostly…guys?”
Ona looks something between horrified and…horrified.
“Oh no. Only women. So my experience is a lot nicer than most. Different, though."
"Fair enough. Shouldn’t have assumed." Lucy laughs, her freckled cheeks just slightly tinged red as she sinks her face into her hand. Her head tilts up abruptly every time she thinks of another question.
"Are they mostly the same people or is it more like a one-and-done thing? Sorry I have so many questions I’m just…yeah, really…intrigued." Lucy laughs, half-nervous, half-polite, again.
Ona laughs with her. “No no, it’s fine. I’m very used to it. I just thought it’s something you should know…” she trails off into an anxious uncertainty.
“I appreciate you telling me.” Lucy smiles.
"But to answer your question, I have a couple of people who I see on a basis, but usually one and done. I get a lot of complete newcomers, a lot of women who have never been with a woman before and are just trying things out. All kinds, really." She actually feels quite confident talking about it, mostly because it was so familiar. Even clients asked her similar questions.
She doesn't mention the fact that her age is part of the appeal for many of the people who come to her. Whether it's for the power-play of a younger woman playing the domme, or because being younger makes her less intimidating…she isn't sure.
And of course, she wonders where Lucy herself falls into all of this. She had wondered about it the second they met. As she does with most people. It's rarely that perverted of a question, wondering where someone might fit into the box.
But perhaps her speculations on Lucy were a little more perverted than usual.
It wasn't her fault. Ona had seen the way Lucy very subtly flaunts her muscles on social media, and certainly, she had done nothing profane with those images. Nothing at all.
Oh but trusting her luck, Lucy is a crazy dominant top herself, with no interest or room for submission.
Well no, everyone had some room for submission. It's just if they wish to act on it.
"What do you do in general? No specifics. Just like, the jist I guess. If you can even summarise it in a half-appropriate way."
"That's hard but I'll try. I do a lot of things, well, I do what people want me to do. Within my limits of course. Usually it involves a physical element, like pain or restriction, and a...mental element, the power play. Some people want just one, some people want just the other. I never have any kind of direct sexual contact with them."
Lucy is biting the inside of her cheek, hard.
"But if it's not for sexual pleasure then do people just want it for the thrill?" "Pretty much. There's a lot to it but I won't bore you with my nerdiness." Ona unlocks her hands, and Lucy straightens up.
"Don’t think you could ever bore me after a fact like that." She answers incredulously, still shockingly unfazed. She has more on her mind, which Ona encourages her to speak with a mere raise of her eyebrows.
"It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Lucy grins. “I’m just surprised. In a good way. Unexpected from you, but I respect it, a lot.”
Respect was a new one.
"I get it. I don’t look or act the part." Ona gazes out towards the city, squinting a bit from the sun.
Lucy looks teasingly guilty, her smile cheeky.
"Guess not."
—
Lucy doesn't run. She only comes closer, inundated with new curiosity and respect for Ona's character. It only really hits them that 'brunch' was a wild underestimate of what the day would consist of when they're leaving a steakhouse at 7pm and the sun has long gone down.
What had they even done all day? Ona can't remember. Thousands of steps, a rip-off's worth of trinkets from Afflex's, streets neither of them had even been down before, and laughter. So much laughter. She left herself, when she was around Lucy. She waits patiently for the anxiety, but it never comes.
The restaurant had been hot and a bit too loud for much meaningful conversation, so the winter's air outside was a cold reprieve.
They hold hands without second thought, and Ona feels all shades of giddy and euphoric. Happier than she can ever remember being in this city. She is coloured shocked by just how much she allowed herself to enjoy today. The first date sterility gave way to something very genuine, very fun, very simple.
"Is it stupid to say I still have more of this in me." Lucy says, grinning.
"No." Ona can only laugh with delight and impulsive adrenaline. "I do too. I'm so into you Lucy." She confesses, her laughter dropping off as she realises the gravity of what she said. But Lucy doesn't falter.
"I'm really into you too." She murmurs. "A ridiculous amount. I had so much fun today. You're an amazing person."
Ona blushes considerably. Warm and fuzzy. Amazing person. Here they are, getting foolish for each other in the middle of a crowded street, a group rushing past them with drunken shrill to their voices.
"I know a couple bars we could go to." Lucy offers, gently pulling Ona out of the pedestrian path. Ona tries very hard to agree enthusiastically, but that isn't what she wants. So she makes that known.
"If you want. But, I was kind of feeling something quieter." She says, not realising that Lucy had an arm around her back and her waist pulled close.
"I won't take you anywhere too crazy, don't worry. Somewhere chill. There was one I went to with my friend, I can ask her where it is, don't think it's too far..."
"Lucy," Ona looks up at her, pushing Lucy's phone down gently. "I want to spend time with just you." she pokes her chest lightly with a smile. She sees the moment Lucy realises what she means, and it's incredibly sweet.
“Oh right. Yeah no I'm down for that. As long as there's no expectation of...anything."
The sudden shift takes her a tad by surprise. There is a sudden nerve in Lucy's voice, though barely detectable.
Had she suggested that with the intention of hooking up?
No. No she hadn’t. For all of the places wild hormones had taken her, none of that was on her mind tonight. She wasn’t sure what was. But not that. Maybe that. But not a lot. Everything is calm right now, slowed down, and she is chasing feelings she doesn’t quite understand.
"No. No expectations at all." Ona replies with soft certainty.
"Okay good. Because it's my time of the month and I don't really want to go there today."
She says it very plainly, as if decided long ago. Whether it was the full truth, Ona wasn't sure. But she didn't care one bit. She respected Lucy’s willingness to establish her wants. She pats Lucy's back sympathetically, for she seemed to feel some degree of embarrassment immediately after speaking. So maybe it was true, after all.
"More than happy with that. You don’t even need a reason."
—
So, they go to Lucy's place. Just a couple of tram stops away. In an unexpected turn of events, they have largely run out of things to talk about, or perhaps something is up with Lucy. A thoughtful look on her face as they walk in silence, arms linked.
"Everything okay?" Ona asks, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible.
"Of course." Lucy turns to her and gives her a very genuine smile. She looks at Ona softly, like she's never seen her before. "You're beautiful." She says.
Ona lowers her head with a bashful smile. "Really?"
The answer seems to catch Lucy off guard. "Are you kidding?" She grins incredulously.
"What?" Ona plays it off.
"You don't think you're beautiful?"
Ona frowns a bit, puzzled. "I never said I didn't."
"You didn't have to say it. But I'll tell you now. You're really, really beautiful."
Ona feels her heart in her throat, an uncomfortable tightening deep inside her. Lucy saw through her. Saw how she has never found herself pretty. What? That’s not true, she often thinks she’s pretty. She often looks in the mirror and decides her looks are enough to get through that day. "Sorry," she murmurs. Lucy just nudges her affectionately.
"What 'you saying sorry for, silly?"
"Sorry." Ona repeats quietly, grinning now.
Lucy wanted to kiss her right then and there.
Lucy's apartment is surprisingly minimalist for someone with such an expansive and eclectic personality. Ona takes note of the quirks she can gather from the space; lots of niche appliances in the kitchen, warm lighting, monochromatic abstract art bringing life to the beige walls. Two framed photos in the hallway; a small white dog on a beach, and two small children in football kits.
They sink to the couch practically immediately after dropping coats and shoes by the door, the silent warmth making them both a little more aware of their overexertion from the day. Thankfully she finds Lucy a very comforting presence, so she isn’t afraid to loosen up a bit. She takes down her ponytail, feeling the cushion beside her dip.
Lucy shifts to lay horizontal, a slow movement that leaves Ona wondering whether she was actually suggesting they cuddle, or that she wanted space and Ona should instead sit in that chair over there. Her decision here changes everything.
Oh, but she wants to cuddle with Lucy so terribly badly. She has been thinking about it all day. Not sex, not sharing their greatest secrets, this. Before she can overthink it, Lucy grabs her hand and pulls her down, choking a sharp gasp as she scrambles to not crush Lucy. She ends up wedged between her, and the back of the couch.
Ona breathes quickly for a few seconds, before settling her muscles. They both smile sweetly, a quiet acknowledgement of yes, this is happening. This is new, but it’s happening. Her head drops to the side of Lucy's chest. Heart thumping, abdomen wound tightly by tingly, nervous threads. Lucy is…warm, firm, much taller than her. Lovely smelling.
It’s a bit uncomfortable.
Position-wise. For her. She remembers now that first times of any semblance of vulnerability are never easy, always a bit awkward. Like settling into a new home. In a new city. In a new country.
Lucy moves over a bit so Ona has more room and yet she unconsciously finds herself moving in closer still. Lucy, ever attentive, reaches up to tentatively caress Ona's scalp in slow, unhurried movements once they’re comfy. Ona of course, melts. Lucy was just so wonderfully safe, it felt impossible not to give in to what she usually avoided.
"Did you have any plans in mind?" Lucy asks with a newfound softness, and quickly they both share a girlish smirk that acknowledges and dismisses the obvious all at once.
"No, sorry, I think I've exhausted most of my ideas for today." She exhales truthfully.
"I have a lot of games," Lucy suggests, nodding towards a glass cupboard that encases a multitude of colourful game boxes. Ona lifts a bit to look, breathing finally, a hand still holding onto Lucy's arm.
"Don't know where we'd play those." Ona teases, the table beneath it is entirely covered by a ridiculously large puzzle.
"Oh, yeah, my puzzle, some of my finest work coming along there."
Ona glances down at Lucy fondly. "I don't think I have the brainpower for games tonight, but definitely another time."
"Fair. Cuddle and TV then?"
"Perfect for me."
She gradually settles back down, but this time, something makes itself known. She’s looking at Lucy. What came over them? Unavoidable. Inches away, practically on top of each other, hands forcibly stilled to make way for something new. She swallows. About to look away, hide her face in the couch for the foreseeable future, when Lucy speaks.
"Would you like to?" She asks calmly through a breath of forced confidence. Calm, but nervous.
"Of course." Ona answers without second thought.
There's a hesitation of nerves, no slow and steady ease in. Their hearts quicken, hands shift a few times so the angle isn't terrible for either of them, they giggle beneath their breaths, but that's when Ona decides enough is enough.
Or maybe it's Lucy who kissed her first. She isn't sure. Either way, something pulls her down to Lucy's face and their lips are touching, somehow Ona's hands end up pinning down her firm shoulders.
One timid kiss. Two. Lucy is obscenely gentle with it at first, treating Ona like she'll break with too much force. It's a mostly appreciated sentiment, speaks loudly of Lucy's intentions, a great reprieve from people who kiss like they have something to take. A job to finish. An impatience. Maybe Ona had been guilty of that in the past.
Three. Four. Ona counts the number of times they come together. They kiss slowly - it gets hard to count, because they’re not exactly pulling away.
Muscles settle, breaths soften, blooming affection brings them closer. They fit together well, surprisingly well, Lucy is warm and soft and skilled with every subtle movement of her lips. One hand shifts, cupping Ona's face, closer still.
Breathing becomes a secondary concern, but ultimately they part. For a moment. Before Ona leans back down to kiss her again out of pure necessity. Her body craves it, sends all the signals to say this is good. This is very good.
It becomes silly, because when she stops, Lucy is the one to pull her back down. Then Lucy parts, and it's Ona again.
"Can't stop, can ya'." Lucy teases intimately, smirking against Ona's lips.
"No..." Ona answers through a giggle, pressing a final fleeting kiss to Lucy's lips before lifting up on her elbow for some breathing room.
"Blushing much." Lucy states, remaining comfortable on her back.
"Be quiet." Ona only gets redder with embarrassment, looking away.
There isn't much to say after that. Reality knots her chest together. She feels strangely nauseous when she comes to the realisation that today was real, and very much something she would have to deal with going forward.
She acknowledged it. No part of her was in all sincerity, ready to start sharing her life with someone. Not someone as good as Lucy.
She sees Lucy shifting in the corner of her eye, sitting up, grabbing the remote to shift the mood.
"Watched anything good lately?" Lucy doesn't show an ounce of nerves. Ona’s lips are still wet and tingling. She shuffles to sit at her side, Lucy's arm soon settling around her thoughtfully.
"No. I don't really watch TV." Ona admits, embarrassed again at how strange she must sound. Who doesn't watch TV?
"What about the football?" The question makes Ona choke on air a bit.
"No, not really."
"Thought you would. With how far you got."
All it had taken was a nudge from Lucy for the confession about her short-lived football career to come spilling out over brunch. You too? Are you serious? Barcelona youth?! Right-back?! World Cup?!
She didn't enjoy talking about that time, because it meant acknowledging the biggest failure of her life so far. The fact that she quit. So easily, and never looked back.
Lucy had been kind about it of course, tried to equate it to the ruptured ACL that made her leave Liverpool at 19, but it wasn't the same. Lucy had to go, chose to go, but Ona had just lost a battle to the invisible. She wonders if they had become footballers, would their paths have crossed.
"I did. I haven't kept up with it in a long time though." She states plainly, as Lucy flicks through Netflix.
"Have you watched Nobody Wants This? Kristen Bell?" Ona often feels immense gratitude for the fact Lucy flits from one thought to another very quickly.
"I don't even know who that is."
Lucy grins. "It's feel-good. You might like it."
—
Ona does in-fact, like it. Well, she's mildly entertained by it. Usually she went for something a bit darker, a bit more intense if she found it in herself to invest in a show.
She leans her head into Lucy's shoulder, who is absentmindedly brushing her hand along Ona's arm. It's all very sweet, very quiet. Usually first times felt incredibly forced, before that familiarity arrives. For Ona, at least. She wasn't used to people having her this way, not this easily.
"Hating all of your exes is such a straight thing, don't you think," Lucy comments as the episode progresses.
"It's probably a men thing, not an exes thing."
But through it all, the show sparks a thought that she feels compelled to ask.
"When was the last time you dated?"
The look Lucy gives her is sharp but controlled. "A year. Haven't seen anyone since. Not even like, casually." She replies. "What about you?"
Ona hesitates. Not going there. “It’s been a while. I've had some things go on but nothing serious enough to count." It's all truthful, she had far too much going on to handle another person's life as well as her own. If her sexual desires were satisfied (which she could satisfy herself, very easily, should others not be available), and she had a few good, truly good, friends, she was happy as a clam. No need for serious, committed…
"Were you looking to date before this?" Ona asks with easy curiosity before Lucy can follow up.
"Not really, but I never ruled anything out. I'm well aware I want to find someone eventually and settle down but...I hadn't been single, properly single, since I was...a teenager. Isn't that embarrassing?" Lucy proposes it like it genuinely is, and Ona's internal laugh is a bit too cruel to share.
"No. I've spent most of my life single, I think that's more embarrassing." Ona rolls her eyes a bit, still half-focused on the show.
"Eh, I don't think so, I’m and still feel like I hardly know myself sometimes. Happens, when you spend your life caught up in other people’s worlds before your own.”
Ona can only laugh. "I don’t think being alone is much better.”
"What about kids? Do you ever think about that?"
The question makes Ona's face do a multitude of things at once. Sorry? Begging your pardon Lucy? “Kids? Like children?”
"Yeah. Do you see yourself having them?" Lucy says, somewhere between vulnerability and gentle defence.
Ona's mouth twitches as she finds the words. "I haven't thought about it."
"Really?"
"Well not seriously, I like kids, but I'm not good at thinking that far into my future. I can't even imagine...being a parent." She answers truthfully. Then it hits her. She turns and looks Lucy in the eyes. "Are you asking because...?"
"No judgment, it's just...important to me, I guess." Lucy shouldn’t feel so ashamed about having something she is certain about.
"You want kids now?" Ona asks, trying to compose her usual empathy and not sound too dumbfounded.
Lucy pauses, awkwardly. "Not now now, but…” she trails off. “I'm not exactly a spring chicken, am I."
It sinks a wedge between them. Ona tries to smile, a bit, because what Lucy said is amusing, but it's half-hearted.
Lucy recovers herself. "I'm sorry I brought it up, I know it's unreasonable to ask that of someone your age."
Ona's brows knit together, Lucy probably didn't mean it, but it unsettles Ona. "Does my age bother you?" She asks assuredly, genuinely. It hadn’t much hit her much until now that Lucy was indeed, a tad older than her.
"Of course not." Lucy counters quickly, attempting to amend the implication. "No, believe me, if it bothered me we wouldn't be here. I’m just aware that we’ve got that difference."
Ona nods once. That was fine. Fair. "Sorry, I wish I had an answer to the kids thing but I just don't. I'm not good with answers." She admits. Now that was something to be shameful about.
"I can be patient." Lucy exhales gently, her hand squeezing Ona’s arm softly. She speaks after a pause of contemplation, watching her attentively again. "I'm sorry if I upset you."
"You didn't." Ona answers quickly. Lucy shuffles a bit, and swings her legs onto the sofa to lie down again. Ona mimics her movements, until they're nestled together, legs vaguely intertwined.
"I just need to know you're sure about this." Lucy asks quietly. Ona's calmness falters, her body tensing. On fire, for just a moment. She swallows, recounting their previous conversation and wondering where her mistake was.
"I'm sure about you." She finds, almost accidentally, somewhere in the mess of thoughts. Because looking into Lucy's eyes, she is very sure. Sure that Lucy is something very special.
Lucy swallows, blinking slowly and letting her expression soften. Ona can't read her any longer, but she decides she doesn't want to. They both lean into each other quickly this time, kissing with more intention. Lucy is still gentle, but she nudges deeper. In a flush of confidence, Ona swings her leg over and straddles Lucy. The quiet gasp it pulls makes Ona burn all over.
Lucy grabs her face with a newfound intensity, each kiss a little deeper than the last.
She always loved this position. Fewer restrictions, more room for hands to roam her body freely. It's getting hard to concentrate on anything but the ache between her legs though. Unbearable, in a good and horrible way. Bordering on discomfort - too close to what anxiety feels like in other parts of her body.
That's to say, she's been pretty wet since the moment Lucy put her arm around her on the walk back. Pathetic, really.
Lucy's tongue makes a slow suggestion, and Ona meets it with her own, their breaths staggering in the small space between them. The wet sounds of deep kisses were filthy and maddening.
Ona's hands hold onto Lucy's biceps, an excuse to feel them up, who seems content to let her lead. Ona had an effortless emotional radar if nothing else. Could see someone's pulse rise before she felt it. And Lucy? Lucy is slow to ease into things. Cautious, but not to her detriment.
And God, Ona had forgotten what it felt like to make out with someone she was actually really fucking attracted to.
She must have shifted her hips one way or another, because Lucy seems to be well-aware of her neediness. Her knee slips between Ona's thighs and presses gently against her crotch, making Ona see stars from arousal. A noise escapes and she bites Lucy’s lip to suppress it, who inhales sharply. Ona pulls back.
To her surprise, Lucy's smirk is one stricken with shocked delight.
"Feisty." She says breathlessly. Sweetly disarmed.
"More than that." Ona leans back down to kiss her hard, tongue pressing into Lucy's mouth. It's all a bit experimental. Maybe selfishly so, because she couldn't decide where she wanted Lucy. On her knees, pathetic look on her face as she begs for Ona sounds incredibly tantalising, but so does...giving up any semblance of dominance and letting Lucy have her. Just…Have. Her.
Ona grinds into Lucy's firm leg unabashedly, for her own pleasure, but also because doing it with such confidence seemed to be driving Lucy crazy.
Ona parts with another gentle tug of Lucy's lip. "Can I kiss your neck?" She murmurs, breath tingling Lucy's already numb lips.
Lucy nods vaguely, her chest rising and falling slowly as she attempts to compose herself. Ona squeezes her bicep, nails digging.
"I said, can I kiss your neck, Lucy?"
She just couldn’t help herself. Her voice gets deeper, more sincere, not aggressive, but firm. She thinks it has the suggestive effect she intended. Lucy has one breathless word. “Please."
Oh. That certainly did it for Lucy. Which certainly did it for Ona.
"And stop being polite. You’re allowed to grab my ass." Ona says this one a little less charged, a tease, grinning as she slowly kisses down Lucy’s jaw. A hand on the other side to keep her in place.
Lucy seemed rendered speechless, hands moving down uncertainly before she does indeed grab her ass, pushing Ona down to grind harder, making her moan softly against Lucy's neck. She presses her lips with intent and precision, just the right suggestion of teeth and tongue and she works it up.
She truly had no expectations for this, just that she wanted Lucy to feel good. She had a feeling, just an inkling, that Lucy’s selfless, caring nature was taken for granted sometimes. She was more than deserving of someone doting on her back.
Ona sinks her teeth in a bit, swallowing behind them, tasting some bitter-sweet musk perfume.
"What perfume?" Ona mutters against her skin with deceptive softness.
"Kayali sw—ah- Ona,"
Ona sucks and tugs bruisingly at Lucy’s pulse-point just as she answers. It earns her a firm, unintentional squeeze of her ass.
Ona grins to herself. She can feel Lucy’s heart hammering against her own chest.
“Did you like that?” Ona asks lowly, moving her mouth to the other side.
“Y-Yeah,” Lucy stutters. She was usually so confident, had far more to say than just that. Ona anticipates more, but it doesn’t come.
“Don’t be nervous,” Ona unbuttons the highest button of Lucy’s collared shirt to gain more access.
“I’m not.” Lucy lies beneath her breath.
“You can’t put it past me.” Ona remarks a little pridefully as she drags her tongue up higher on Lucy’s neck, biting and sucking into the skin beneath her ear.
Ona feels Lucy’s hips beneath her, subtly needy. She could fix that. Her thigh slots between Lucy’s legs, Lucy’s still between hers. Lucy lets out a breathy sound, one she tries so hard to suppress. Even Ona loses her composure a bit, trying to find a rhythm with Lucy that satisfies them both.
“Does that feel good?” Ona rasps, her body alight.
“Yeah, I need–“
“What do you need?”
“I- don’t know, you just feel good.” Lucy’s sensual voice is something otherworldly. Broken down and starry-eyed.
Ona lets on a satisfied smirk at how easily Lucy receded.
“You feel good too.” She replies softly, her breath heavy as she keeps grinding against Lucy and sensing the heat in her abdomen blooming wilder and wilder.
She kisses Lucy again, hard. Her thigh purposefully presses deeper between Lucy’s legs, and when Lucy’s kissing effort falls a bit slack, Ona tugs her forward by the collar to keep her mouth close. Lucy makes the quietest sound.
For a rare moment, Ona’s mind says nothing. Just small urges, small wants, small thoughts. Lucy’s hands are still and firm, her own are commanding and desperate.
But Ona misses something. Maybe the noise Lucy makes wasn’t one of pleasure as she thought, and maybe the look on her face wasn’t pleasure either…but something more uncertain.
"Can we pause?" Lucy’s breath is stolen from her in a sudden jerk of movement, like she had been drowning and was finally pulled up for air. Ona snaps like a live wire, jolting out of position to look Lucy in her eyes. Lucy won't look in hers. Instead, she looks away, chest heaving quickly but silently, her face flushed.
"What's up?" Ona murmurs in a startled tone, and in a panic, strokes Lucy's cheek. Lucy twitches away from the comfort.
"Sorry I'm just- a bit overwhelmed." She breathes, running her hands over her face before sitting up a bit, her expression making a multitude of suggestions.
Ona’s body floods hot with fear, moving off of Lucy and pressing herself against the back of the couch. She stares, wide-eyed and terrified.
"I'm so sorry, I- I didn't realise-" Ona tumbles her words out. Her worst fucking fear. Realised, on the last person she would ever want it to happen to.
Lucy looks down at herself for a moment, pushing the hair back on either side of her face a few times before giving Ona a regretful, sheepish look. "No it's not you, I promise,” she says quickly.
Ona is frozen, petrified. Lucy’s face begs for reassurance, as though nothing had happened, as though Ona should just go back to kissing her.
“Really, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, come here,” Lucy doesn’t give herself a moment to think, shifting onto her knees to lean in and give Ona a desperate hug. Instinctively, Ona’s arms fold around her too, but emptily.
They both breathe out. Scared to part. Ona’s heart thumps in her ears. No, she cannot do this. She is better than this. She is the first to pull away.
"What overwhelmed you?" She asks, punching down her heavy emotions. Lucy avoids Ona’s rigid concern, searching for her answer, her lips parted in silent loss.
"I'm just not used to it." She croaks out, mortifyingly ashamed, looking down at Ona’s lap.
"Doing all of this?" Ona precedes with no judgment. But softness.
"Someone...trying to take control of me."
Ona feels a stab from the wording. "I wasn't trying to do that."
Lucy cringes, shaking her head a little. "No sorry I said that wrong. It’s just been a while, and I'm just not used to-"
Ona hears the panic rising again. So she stops Lucy.
"I get it. I'm sorry. I should have asked what you were comfortable with. That was really wrong of me." She professes with gentle certainty, trying to hide the extent to which the guilt is ripping up her insides. Had her hands wandered to the wrong place? Been too rough? Not heeded the obvious signs of wanting to stop? Her eyes dart to Lucy’s neck, only one bruise darkens just beneath her ear.
"You did nothing wrong. I enjoyed it, I really did, it's- me."
Silence hangs in the air.
"Lucy…” Ona sighs contrarily, her hand going to the back of Lucy’s neck with caution. Lucy leans into it, so Ona rubs tenderly.
"You're so tense." She murmurs. "I should have noticed, I really am sorry."
"It's not for you to tell me how I feel. I should know that." Lucy laughs dryly. But Ona finds nothing shameful in it.
"Are you okay now?" Ona takes Lucy’s hands instead, looking into her eyes. She finds all the sadness of a wounded animal, and her heart shatters for this girl she hardly knows. For the horrible, sinking feeling that is probably deep in her gut right now.
"I really am good. I'm sorry for worrying you." Lucy then hesitates, words becoming an unfathomable form of expression. All getting caught in her throat and being pushed back down quicker than she can catch them. She swallows. "I’m just…weird, in ways. Things come over me quickly, and it’s hard to explain. Because it happens so fast. Like I was fine, and then just–…”
"I know. Don’t apologise." Ona tries to soothe, her thumbs brushing the back of Lucy’s unfamiliar, but so gentle, hands. She watches her mouth twitch a bit in an attempt to hold back anything more. Ona knows the feeling well, but Lucy will find the words she needs. In time.
"I'm different too. In lots of ways. I’m the last person you should feel weird around." Ona offers in a quiet tone that promises trust, her self-pitying smile making Lucy look up at her.
“…You’re very kind.” Lucy admits with the hint of a candid smile, sheepish appreciation.
“So are you.” Ona replies in equally cautionary softness. She meant the sentiment though. Lucy was far, far kinder than she was. She had treasured her like gold, all day.
Ona had witnessed so many people having clashes with their vulnerability mid-session. It was bound to happen. Typically suggested a suppression of something. Or, just that they were human.
Emotions were deeply unpredictable creatures. Even the most tamed could pounce when baited out.
She worries for Lucy nonetheless. It was a complete switch of character from everything she had seen so far. The sheer possibility that she had accidentally provoked some kind of trauma makes her feel sick.
“Do you wanna talk about it? We don’t have to though.” Ona says gently, uncertain of what would help Lucy most. Perhaps she is misreading the shift entirely; perhaps Lucy simply felt no semblance of attraction or chemistry with her. Perhaps there was something very ugly about her deep within, something that repulsed Lucy.
“I’m fine, really.” Lucy replies, attempting a convincing smile. A forced bout of eye contact. It only becomes more awkward.
“Maybe it has nothing to do with getting overwhelmed, but let me ask the question I should have asked earlier. Do you prefer to be in control? Because I can do either. I should have made that clear. I know I do the dominant stuff for fun but I really am a switch.” Ona decides to assure her as bluntly and unmistakably as possible. She wonders if she even sounds like herself. Lucy doesn’t pose too much of a reaction.
But she does go blank. Brows furrowing a bit. “I’m…I don’t know.”
Ona looks confused. She sees the confusion on Lucy’s face. She shouldn’t be asking so many questions.
“It’s okay…” Ona attempts to comfort again.
“I’ve always been the top…the dominant before.”
Ona nods. “Okay.” That is fine. Truly fine.
“But I don’t…I don’t always enjoy it. I enjoy giving, but it gets too much…having to put on an act with it. I feel so much pressure when it doesn’t come naturally. But it also feels like the only thing I can do.”
Ona chooses her words carefully. “Have you ever let the roles reverse?”
“Well yeah, I wasn’t like that…all the time, but it was most of the time. It’s assumed. I’ve never been with someone like you.”
Ona pauses. “Someone who can take that other role?”
“Someone who’s good at it.”
Were your other partners not good at it or did you not give them a chance?”
Lucy goes silent.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t assume-“
“No you’re right. I never gave them the proper chance. I just get so in my head, it takes so much for me to relax and enjoy something.” Lucy admits.
“I used to feel that too. People think that involving power exchanges, or implements, means it has to be this intense, crazy thing. But it doesn’t. Some people just need that extra push to be present. Physical or mental. Or it can just be…fun.” Ona treads carefully over the topic.
“What if I didn't want any of that though? Can it not just be two people, on equal grounds?” Lucy replies bluntly. Ona breathes sharply.
“Of course it can be…Look Lucy, I don’t want you to think that just because I’m into that stuff it means I can’t do anything else. I can-”
“I’m into that stuff too.” Lucy interrupts. Her senses are high and impulsive. Ona has become fatigued from the uneasiness.
“It’s just new. With you. I need time.”
Ona refuses to be anything but gentle. “Okay. I understand that. I need that too.” She supposes Lucy will regard it as a lie, but it wasn’t. This was already in far murkier, deeper territory than she had been in for a long time.
She deliberates extensively on what exactly opened up some chasm of intimacy between them that they couldn’t seem to close. It wasn’t like Lucy was insisting on making it deep, neither was Ona, it just kept happening. Ona finds herself with nothing more to say, just shackled in Lucy’s space.
“Can we talk about this another time?” Lucy asks, her exhaustion evident.
Ona’s jaw unclenches, equally relieved that Lucy shut the conversation down before it could be pressed further. She decides she doesn’t want the day to ask anymore of her. She was wrung emotionally dry.
In the sudden, heavy silence, she doesn’t know where she stands with Lucy. At all. Was that an odd conversation? Was she so used to boundary-setting and almost-clinical discussions of intimate moments that intimacy…became meaningless?
Did she even like Lucy? Or was she just turned on by the thought of making her submit?
“Totally. It’s been a long day.” She says. Lucy looks down, face in her palm, mediating.
“You don’t have to go yet though.” Lucy reaches over to grab her glass of water.
Ona struggles to believe that she means it. “If you need space, I won’t be offended.”
“No,” Lucy says quickly, turning to her. “I- I want you here. Just nothing intense.”
Ona breathes shallowly. “Got it. Maybe just finish this episode?” She suggests, although in truth she’d very much like to leave right this moment.
“Yeah. I’m just going to the bathroom quick.”
“Go ahead.” Ona moves back to give Lucy room to get up.
Lucy moves swiftly out of the room, leaving Ona cold sober on the couch.
It’s the first moment to herself she’s had all day, she realises. Her heart is still hammering, muscles jittery and uncomfortable. No amount of reassurance from Lucy would make her feel better about what just happened. For what it might mean. Does she even know what it means? She doesn’t.
She doesn’t even know Lucy. She tried, that’s all she can attest to.
The rest of the night is quiet. The intensity gave way to something rather…empty. Ona leans back against the armrest, parting her legs, and when Lucy reappears with an uncertain look on her face, Ona nods for her to lie down. It was bold, all things considered, but she supposed she had nothing to lose. At first Lucy gives her a look of playful questioning when she signals it again, but Ona just rolls her eyes. “Come here.”
So Lucy cautiously settles there, needing some encouragement to rest her head on Ona’s chest. Ona begins to stroke her hair, and watches her eyes close, weight and muscle becoming dead against her. Her legs bracket Lucy’s body, hoping the light pressure calms her further. “Thanks,” Lucy murmurs drowsily against her top.
Lucy was a funny one, clearly unaccustomed to being vulnerable about her flaws. But the body has a funny way of making you strange and uncomfortable around people you really, really like.
Despite her anxiety, Ona too finds herself deeply exhausted from the heaviness of the day. Her eyes are too strained to focus on the TV, so she closes them. For just a second.
A series of loud blasts sounds from the TV, making her jolt awake. Lucy groans, fumbling for the remote that was dropped on the ground. “Oh who gives a fuck,” she mumbles as she shuts off the Netflix trailer that had autoplayed. Her head falls back against Ona for just a moment, taping her phone to check the time. Just past 1am.
“You need to go home,” Lucy murmurs.
“Huh?”
“Not like that, it’s just late, I shouldn’t have kept you this long.” Lucy sits up groggily. “I’ll drive you back,” she mumbles, expressionless, getting up off the sofa hastily.
Ona is dumbfounded, still half-delirious herself. “I’ll get an Uber, don’t be stupid,”
“No, I’m driving you.” Lucy exhales with no room for disagreement, and makes her way to the kitchen, grabbing her keys. Ona has to force herself to get off the sofa, her long hair a tussled mess, eye makeup surely smudged and creased.
She grabs her phone, her bag, heading to her shoes. Lucy tosses the keys around in her hand.
“You look exhausted, I’ll seriously get an Uber,” Ona states, leaning against the wall for support as she pulls on her boots.
“I can handle ten minutes. Don’t argue, please.” The honesty in her tone shocks Ona a bit. But she is too tired to think much of it. They make their way down in silence, the industrial white lights of the elevator making them both squint.
“Sorry that was so intense. I didn’t mean for it to be.” Ona says, her head lowered, as if ashamed for the date spiralling into something far deeper than either of them expected. Lucy keeps touching her hair, rubbing her eyes.
“Life is full of surprises, eh?”
Ona gives her a confused look. Lucy hates her. She’s done it. No coming back from this. Could it get much worse?
“I liked it though. Don’t get silly.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. A small, small ounce of relief.
Ona finds her eyes closing again in the car, only vaguely coming back to consciousness when Lucy’s hand searches for hers. She holds onto it tightly. They don’t exchange a word more.
“Here?” Lucy approaches Ona’s apartment building.
“Yeah, here’s good,”
“Where’s the entrance?” Lucy squints at the satnav, zooming it in.
“On the other side, I’ll just walk around.” Ona unbuckles her seatbelt but Lucy gives her a harsh look.
“I want to see you in.”
Ona redoes her belt. No words needed.
“Right.” Lucy says, finally letting her head fall back a bit, hands to her lap when they reach the rightful entrance.
Ona looks at her like a sad fawn. She was about to leave without as much of a goodbye, until Lucy finally looks at her again with the kind of admiration she’d been suggesting all day. They hug, a little uncomfortably from Ona leaning over the seat, but tightly nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Lucy murmurs. “I loved today. You’re very special.”
“I loved it too.” Ona says softly, but with the melancholic undertones of reflecting on a bittersweet memory.
“Text me when you’re in your place, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. See you.” Lucy watches intently as she gets out.
“See you.” Ona replies quietly, avoiding looking back.
She steps into her apartment. Following the door slamming behind her, she stands motionless for a moment, confronted with empty silence.
Perhaps a minute passes, before her hands are flying to her face as she chokes out a sob. She can't help but cry. A horrible, soul-burning cry that seems to never stop. The comfortable barriers she had spent so many years placing had come crashing down in the worst of ways. She was in it, yet again. When she really thinks about it, she just doesn’t want Lucy to hate her.
—
The next day, Lucy calls her. Twice. She ignores the first one. But she cares too much to ignore the second.
“I- need you to be honest with me, do you see us being something serious?”
Ona’s silence is one of indecision, a rapid search for an answer to give but it’s too late. Lucy abandons the question.
"I don't know how to put this...I'm just...I need some time to think about it."
Lucy’s words make the ground beneath Ona collapse in. Static fills the space between the confession and Ona's silence. Was she shocked? Or had she known this was the outcome the whole time.
"I get it." Ona swallows her pride, nodding to herself. This was fine. This was what she wanted. Lucy wanted serious, she couldn’t do that. So this was the answer.
"And it's not about the job part, believe me I'm so cool with that, I think... you probably need a very specific type of partner, and...I'm not sure that's me. If it is, I think we need more time to figure it out."
"I'm not sure what I want, if I'm being honest." Ona answers quickly with rampant confessional regret.
"I definitely don't want you to feel forced to be with me if you're not ready." Lucy answers.
"No...that...wouldn't be right." Ona agrees. No she doesn’t agree. At all.
"You're still young, you're really mature don't get me wrong but...maybe our life stages are a bit too different right now."
"Maybe." Ona doesn’t react. But something in her is shattering in two. Three. A million pieces.
"It's not... 'never', I just- I need time to think. I'm sorry about this, I think you're amazing and I loved every moment-"
Ona purses her lips as she wills herself to end the call. Unable to stand the torture of awkward reasoning any longer.
She drops her phone to the ground. Not enough. She wants to watch it smash to smithereens.
—
So that's how she ended up here, having been sat on her balcony for twenty-five minutes now, cheeks red and frozen. When, just as she wills herself to get up and go inside, her smart watch pings a text notification. She lifts her sleeve, and practically leaves her skin when she reads the name.
I think I was wrong about all of this. I’m sorry for how I left it. Feel free to ignore me and delete this if I'm completely out of line, but I didn't make the right move. I lied to both you and myself. We connected in a way I didn't understand, everything you said resonated with me deeply, so deeply that I guess I got scared.
You deserve to live your life, explore your passions, date, and not be dragged down. But if you were serious about wanting to explore that side of me, then I'm serious too. I want to learn how to trust someone like that, and let go of myself for once. We don't have to be something, we don't have to be nothing either. I'd be sincerely okay with that. What do you think?
~
a/n: if you made it this far I want to personally thank you and bestow you with all the lesbian powers I have to offer
A bonus scene between Lucy and Ona in the One Night universe, set before the events of the main fic and an add-on to this set of drabbles I wrote before.
Summary: Ona decides to tell Lucy about a very specific fantasy she’d like to try, if they ever invite you into their bed.
Warnings: 18+ | only mild hints of actual smut but explicit conversations about sex
Ona wakes to an empty bed and the smell of coffee.
It takes a few seconds of consciousness to recognise Lucy’s voice coming from somewhere in the apartment. Too soft for Ona to be able to hear exactly what she’s saying, but in that unmistakable tone of voice that she reserves only for Narla.
Ona rolls onto her back, soft sheets tangling in her bare legs, and fights off a smile as she pictures Lucy moving around the kitchen, narrating her morning routine to the little dog sniffing around her ankles while fresh coffee brews on the counter. The kind of domestic bliss that Ona could only dream of when they were in different countries, living off one or two stolen days together each month.
After a few minutes, Lucy’s murmuring is replaced by footsteps approaching the bedroom door, then Lucy herself appears in the doorway. She’s naked from the waist up, having dressed in just a pair of boxers, and carries a mug of coffee in each hand. Her face cracks into a familiar smile when she sees that Ona is awake.
“Morning sleepyhead,” she teases Ona. “I thought you’d never wake.”
“Blame the person who tired me out last night,” Ona quips back. Flirting with Lucy has always been effortless, her playful demeanour bringing out that side of Ona too.
Lucy sets one mug down on the nightstand on her side of the bed, then passes the other to Ona, before she comments, “We really made a mess in here last night, huh?”
The sheets are messy across Ona’s bare hips, the floor in an even worse state from the rush to remove each other’s clothes when they got home from date night. Lucy gathers up a few things, bundling them up together and tossing them in the direction of the laundry hamper, then bends again to pick up something else and straightens with a harness in one hand and a small metal plug in the other.
“Should probably wash these,” Lucy says.
“Later,” Ona shakes her head. “Come back to bed.”
Lucy hums in agreement, placing the toys on the nightstand beside her steaming mug of coffee, then climbs back into her side of the bed.
With Lucy’s warm body back beside her, Ona sets her mug aside to cool down, then snuggles into Lucy’s side. Almost instinctively, Lucy’s arm curls around her shoulder to pull her even closer.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” Lucy replies teasingly, with that slightly smug tone to her voice that tells Ona she’s pleased with her little joke.
Ona rolls her eyes, though she’s too content with the feeling of Lucy’s nearly naked body against hers to disturb the peace by calling Lucy a rude name in response.
“Something else then.” She presses on before Lucy can come up with another smart reply. “About last night. I’m not the first girlfriend you’ve… you know, fucked like that, right?”
“In the ass?” Lucy supplies, finding the words that Ona couldn’t say herself.
Ona nods shyly. She doesn’t know why saying it aloud makes her feel so self-conscious, when she feels no shame at all about actually letting Lucy do it to her.
“I’ve done it with a couple of people,” Lucy replies. “But not everybody’s into it. Keira definitely wasn’t.”
“What about with …?”
Ona trails off, letting Lucy fill in the blanks. There have been enough little conversations or comments recently for Lucy to know exactly who she’s talking about.
“You’re really interested in her, aren’t you?” Lucy teases her in a low voice.
“Just curious.”
“She…” Lucy pauses, then lets out a sigh that has Ona wondering if maybe this is one question too far, before she eventually continues. “She was the first, actually. We both realised it was something we were interested in and decided to try it together.”
Ona imagines them together a lot, Lucy’s strong body wrapped around somebody else, Lucy making another girl feel the way she makes Ona feel, another girl crying out Lucy’s name in uncontrollable pleasure.
The thought makes her skin feel hot, an ache settling between her legs.
“And you topped?”
Ona is sure that she’ll be able to use this particular fantasy next time she wants to get herself off even without all the specific details, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to hear them anyway.
“Of course,” Lucy answers.
“Always?”
“For anal, yes. But we only did it a few times.”
Ona becomes aware of the arousal starting to stir within her. She thinks back to last night, to how Lucy touched her and made her feel. Lucy always knows exactly the right balance to take, knows exactly how far to push but also the right things to say, the places to touch, the ways to make Ona feel like the luckiest yet most desirable girl in the world.
Thinking about Lucy doing all those things to somebody else makes Ona’s brain melt.
“Do you think, like if she ever joined us, do you think she’d let me … you know?” Ona ventures to ask.
“I don’t know. That’s something only she could tell you. Is it something you want?”
“Well you know I’d never done it with anyone else before you. I really love giving myself to you, giving you all of me.”
Lucy’s arms tightens around Ona.
“And I love that you trust me enough to share all of yourself with me.”
“Last night, it felt like…” Ona trails off with a little sigh, then continues. “I don‘t know, like you lost your mind fucking me like that. Like it was the best thing in the world. So I guess I’m curious, what it’s like to be on that side of it. And I know it’s a hard limit for you so I’d never ask you to do that for me, but what if … you know…”
“What if there was somebody else who’d give themselves to you the same way that you give yourself to me,” Lucy finishes Ona’s train of thought for her.
“Sí.” Ona pauses for thought, then adds, “She might not even want to sleep with us, never mind do that.”
“She definitely wants to sleep with you. It’s me she might not want to sleep with again.”
Ona scoffs to herself. Lucy is being ridiculous. They might have an old history that Ona can’t pretend to fully understand, but she’s not oblivious to the stares that Lucy gets in the dressing room.
“You’re serious about it, though?” Lucy asks, her fingers trailing absent paths up and down the bare skin of Ona’s arm.
“Is that such a surprise to you?” Ona asks, tilting her head to look up at Lucy.
“A little bit. I mean, you make such a good pillow princess…”
Ona shifts properly now, turning so that she’s half on top of Lucy, with one of Lucy’s thighs caught between her own. It’d be so easy to start grinding down for her own pleasure, the conversation about Lucy’s sexual history doing more than enough to have sparked a little bit of an ache between Ona’s legs.
It’s more fun, however, to tease Lucy.
“Remind me how many times you came last night?” Ona asks in a low voice, trailing her hand over the swell of Lucy’s breast and down across her abs.
Lucy’s breath catches in her throat as Ona’s fingertips find a sensitive spot, then she replies, “You can’t take all the credit for that, it was a team effort.”
Ona’s hand dips lower still, Lucy’s legs falling open so that Ona can press her fingertips against Lucy’s warmth through the thin cotton of her boxers.
“What time do you have to be at the training ground for physio?” Ona asks, as she continues to tease Lucy with her fingers.
“Not til eleven.”
“Then I’ve got plenty of time to get you off at least twice before we have to leave.”
Ona’s fingers hook into Lucy’s waistband, starting to draw the cotton boxers down.
“Are you just trying to prove a point because I called you a pillow princess?” Lucy asks, lifting her hips to help Ona undress her.
“Dios, Lucy.” Ona rolls her eyes. “I’ve never met someone who complained this much about me wanting to make them come.”
Lucy’s hips twitch off the bed, her head turns to one side as she presses her eyes closed. Ona knows how impatient Lucy gets when she’s not in control, and she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t take immense enjoyment from the rare occasions where their usual dynamic flips.
“Come on,” Lucy urges her. “You promised me two.”
Ona smiles into Lucy’s thigh as she presses kisses to the skin there, then murmurs, “Patience, cariño,” before she finally puts her mouth on Lucy properly.
Mmmm my brother is getting married (if they manage to plan it so that the party is this year 😂 I believe it’s a lot of work)
Apart from that, just continuing life 😌 pretty exciting as it is, maybe making some more new friends but I’ve already met so many great new people so I’m actually feeling pretty happy going into 2026
You tooo!!!! Happy new years bro, cheers to many more successful cases(😅?) and everything more you aspire to achieve! +ofcourse reading many more books (and fics😌)
