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Jul 15

hardest of hearts: chapter 10 | lucy x ona 18+

✧ chapter 10: masterlist, chapter 9, chapter 11 (soon)

✧ chapter wc: 9k

✧ chapter tags: smut, strap-ons, oral, scissoring....hurt/comfort, discussions of alcohol/drugs/mental health

✧ fic blurb: 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, who 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.

ao3 link or read below

thank you to everyone for the comments on the last chapter!! if that was a ride, this one is a trip. enjoy <3

L.B

“What got into you?”

Lucy poses the question without contempt, following Ona with obsessive interest as she’s setting the half-empty bottle back into her wine cabinet.

Alessia left, after a period of time so awkward Lucy wouldn’t like to think back on it. She lied, saying she’d be leaving as well, just as Alessia stood in the doorway. She’d slipped to the ensuite while the other two exchanged a few words, and God, if she wasn’t curious about what they’d said.

“Nothing, it just got a bit much.”

Ona doesn’t glance back, taking a cloth to the counter.

“That’s not like you.” Lucy decides to push, her smile tense. “You were fine, until you weren’t.”

Ona does that thing where she hides herself behind many layers of ease and indifference. “I was fine the whole time. I just knew you wouldn’t want that.”

“Want what?”

Ona leans back against the counter, her strong hands curving into the marble starkly contrasting the small, exposed waist between them.

“To do anything more. With her.”

“Who says?” Lucy smirks, and she isn’t quite sure if she’s teasing or not. Alessia was hot and pretty, and that clearly got to her. She had more than one idea of where it could have gone, in her more lustful and uninhibited wishes, but in logic, she didn’t know Alessia, not like that. Nor did she even want her, like that.

She takes a step closer, until Ona reaches for the buckles of her jeans and tugs her forward in a snap. “You had good chemistry. I’m surprised.”

Lucy feels her skin prickle with heat. “Why’re you surprised?”

“Maybe I underestimate you Lucy.” Ona’s voice softens, and she leaves so much for Lucy to take when she looks at her like this. Lucy knows it’s performance though, deeply calculated in a way that has likely become second nature.

“Maybe you do.”

With a featherlight touch on the back of Lucy’s neck, Ona brings their faces closer, and it’s hard to believe she’s ever been frightened of anything in her life. Her thumb drags torturously down Lucy’s lip. Her voice comes in a raspy murmur, dizzyingly coercive. “If I tell you the truth, will you let me do whatever I want to you?”

A need, hot and vital, binds Lucy’s chest. “Yes.”

“To your knees.”

They’ll hurt, Lucy wants to say—and not in the good way. Something had to give though, something had to hurt for Ona to be happy.

Lucy gets down on one first, then the other, then lowers her head. Ona threads her fingers into the juncture above where her hair ties into a bun, keeping her against her knee. Lucy preferred it this way. Perhaps it's the processing difficulties she has with eye-contact, or perhaps Ona is far too distracting for her own good, or Ona had her own reasons for being unable to speak from her heart when someone was too close to it.

“I didn’t want to see you with Alessia. Because to me, no matter what I do with her, she is just a friend. You are more than that.”

Lucy isn’t sure how to answer. Small but certain, she nods.

“You’re so much of me now, Lucy. How could I want to share my time between you, and a friend? It wouldn’t work.”

Lucy nods again, the tension heavy at her scalp and behind her ribs. Deeper, Ona’s words threaten to, almost, completely break her. So much of me.

“Do you agree?”

Lucy clammers for an answer. “Yeah, I do.”

Ona pulls tighter. “Do you?”

“Yes Ona. I don’t want anyone but you.” The words string together without her really meaning them to. She looks up, seeing Ona’s face through the warm lights above, and the rough shadows that strike against her jaw and eyes. It represented her quite well—nothing about her was monolithic. Ona is as biting cold as she is scolding hot, she is as confident as she is crumbling at the edges.

Yet, right now, there was safety in knowing this is the exact place Ona wants her to be, and that fact makes the world soft around her. No one has ever thought of her in the way Ona does, never wanted the same things.

“Good,” Ona says plainly, letting a silence fall that is only animated by her lingering touch on Lucy’s scalp.

“Can I ask a question?” Lucy places a hand on her calve, hard muscle beneath her maroon trousers.

“Yes.”

“What happened to all the people you saw before me? You aren’t…still seeing them, are you? Isn’t that, like, what you enjoyed?”

Ona’s face suspends for a moment. “Who is them?” She smiles. “There was no them. Eh, there were people, like Alessia, or strangers who didn’t know my real name, but I know what they were to me…And no, I told you, you’re the only one I put my time to now.”

“Why is that?”

Ona pauses, her fingers ghosting across Lucy’s neck, making it erupt in shivers. She smiles, almost begrudgingly. “I adore you, but it's…less to do with you. It’s me.”

Lucy pretends to read between the lines, there was kindness in the words, but little warmth. “What am I to you, then?”

Ona hums, stroking down Lucy’s hair. “I’m not really one for getting my words out right.” She pushes Lucy closer again. “So, I think I should show you. Rather than tell you.”

Lucy raises to her knees, placing her hands on Ona’s hips. “You’re all I need.” She murmurs, transfixed beyond her sanity, only falling deeper with the intensity of it. She knows love shouldn’t be tense, you shouldn’t look into someone’s eyes and see a different colour each time, but maybe there was love in the trust of it all. And there was much love, much belief, in every colour Ona showed her.

“You seemed to want Alessia though. Can you explain that cariño?”

“I didn’t.” Lucy breathes, the suggestion a sting to her throat. “Just wanted to make you happy.”

“Really?”

The domineering edge unravels her.

Sure, there is a certain degree of theatrics she has to implore for this all to work, a repression of her more serious concerns, but it’s rather easy when she and Ona have begun to learn each other very well. Ona can make her thoughts silent, narrow her world to only this, and in return Lucy can give her the kind of raw devotion a stranger or hookup never could.

“I’m sorry. Really.” Lucy says, her eyes wide.

“She wanted you.” Ona grunts, pulling hard on Lucy’s hair until her legs give way beneath her, and she is sat on her heels again. “But I want you much more.”

She lowers herself, meeting (or maybe pulling) Lucy into a whirlwind of a filthy kiss that ends with them tangled on the floor.

As they fall back in surrender, Lucy cups the back of Ona’s head so it isn’t against the hard tile. Her knuckles hurt under the pressure, especially when she finds herself feverishly panting into the kiss and pressing Ona down harder.

Ona meets her with as much keen intensity, grabbing her hair, the kind of kiss that registers more as an influx of emotion than physical sensation. Far too much at once. Ona darts her tongue out with each press forward, unyielding, but slow and measured in short moments. She grips hard onto Lucy’s shoulders, groaning as their thighs interlock.

“Fuck,” Lucy moans breathlessly, careful of not completely crushing Ona’s arching body under her weight. They kiss again, gentler this time, still deep, still heated with the passion of wanting to tear each other apart.

Lucy presses her knee hard between Ona’s legs, delighted when it makes her eyes nearly roll back with the influx of pleasure and a strangled moan sound against Lucy’s numb lips. In return, Ona helps her find a better angle for herself, grinding up harder. The ache is everywhere, electric, and the friction is not nearly enough.

The kisses fall sloppier. “I’m so wet, I can barely think.” Lucy groans, before noticing that just one hand is enough to cushion Ona’s head, so the other reaches beneath her satin shirt to firmly grasp her breast.

“For who? For her?” Ona murmurs in a winded tease, arching further into the confident touch, her own hands dragging lower and beneath Lucy’s tank-top to feel her abs, flexed under the effort of being on top.

Lucy quickly feels rife with frustration, anger, maybe…definitely an agonising amount of possession. “No- fuck, don’t even talk about her, you. I need you.” She rasps into Ona’s skin, dropping deliberate kisses down Ona’s sharp jaw. Her hips roll. Ona reciprocates, tilting her head back to offer Lucy more skin, suppressing heavier breaths from how heated the kissing and nipping is making her. With a devilish grin she says, “Do you need me enough to let me fuck you on the kitchen floor?”

Lucy chuckles roughly, pulling away a bit with an exasperated sigh. “I think we can do better than this.”

“We can.” Ona agrees, pushing up on her elbow, but Lucy abruptly forces her back down. The roughness seems to send her over the edge, almost whining from Lucy’s mouth so suddenly latching back to the pleasurably tender skin of her neck.

“Go on,” she hushes, a leg crossing over Lucy’s hip. “Mark me again.”

Lucy bites down, pulling back with Ona’s skin dragging between her teeth, earning a loud hiss. “I thought you didn’t want it.”

“I was wrong.” Ona sharply pulls her hair, and Lucy loses her vision for a good second. “Más fuerte.”

Harder.

Lucy feels her heart thumping in every place, and the groaned demand does nothing for her regaining any semblance of control. The feeling of Ona writhing beneath her, torn between fighting back and submitting to the ferocity Lucy was ever so good at finding and maintaining, was far too much.

Lucy strikes gold, a suckle and harsh tug beneath Ona’s pulse point makes her hips slam up into her own, and she has to pause or she might pass out from the lust thrashing in her blood.

Instead she laves her tongue across the warm, wet skin, finishing with the softest kiss to the deepest bruise she’s likely ever given someone.

“Up.” Ona manages finally. Heat rushes to Lucy’s head as she throws herself up, utterly enamoured by the sight of Ona’s tussled hair, ruby-red cheeks, and kiss-swollen lips looking back at her. She stands, offering Lucy a sweet hand.

There’s a breathless chuckle shared, but Ona aligns herself back to strength with a quick grasp of Lucy’s hips. Pressing her back into the counter, she tilts her head up to meet Lucy’s height. “Do you want to take my strap tonight?” She whispers, unzipping Lucy’s jeans just enough to slip her hand in.

“Y-yeah, I want that.”

“You do?” Ona returns, a true question, barely grazing her fingers down the crotch of Lucy’s soaked underwear. Lucy involuntarily bucks her hips forward, humming in agreement, her body too busy screaming for Ona’s touch.

At first Ona looks at her softly, but then it firms, pressing a kiss to her lips, likely on her tiptoes for effect. “So you’ll be my best girl? Keep your pussy nice and spread for me so I can ruin it?”

Lucy’s shudders, grinding down harder into Ona’s teasing fingers. She always wonders if Ona can possibly get any hotter, and then she manages to get things out like that without a beat of hesitation.

“Use me, be rough. I don’t care.” She manages back, gripping Ona’s waist.

“Dangerous game.” Ona purrs, nudging Lucy’s underwear to the side to feel the extent of her slickness. Lucy is rarely so aware of her own body and its sensitivity. She never felt like much of a receiver, but Ona draws out a weakness in her that just begs for it.

“I trust you.” Lucy murmurs, leaning closer until their noses brush. Ona gives a small nod, a shared sentiment, and gently withdraws her fingers. Their hips come flush, a quiet second to catch their breaths.

“I trust you too. Back to the couch. I will meet you. Don’t think about anything else. Don’t go on your phone. Just wait for me.” She says, softly, but of course, no room for disagreement.

And Lucy can’t fathom defying her. “I will.”

When Ona returns, Lucy has tossed her shirt to the side, a quietly marvelling smirk growing on her face as she becomes rather distracted by Ona’s look.

A black drawstring bag is dropped to the ground. Ona effortlessly pulls her own shirt off, then unbuttons her trousers to let them pool at her feet. She notices the underwear she adorns isn’t just underwear, it’s an aptly-coloured lingerie harness. Subtle, if not for the ring at the front.

Lucy gets the memo, kicking her jeans off and lying back on the couch before Ona’s guiding hand can push her down, pairing it with a cautioning grin.

“Blue today? Looks unreal on you.” Lucy feels her cheeks heating up, meeting her smile as she’s straddled and gets a closer look at the bruises that Ona now seems to be wearing with pride.

“And black looks good on you. Enough of the sports bras, eh?”

From this angle, Ona may as well not be real. She makes a damn fool of beauty.

“I’ll try. It’s nice to feel pretty sometimes.” Lucy smiles meekly, allowing herself a soft grasp of Ona’s ass as her weight settles above her.

“You have nice tits. You are always pretty.” Ona hums, gently latching a collar around Lucy’s neck. “I’ve forgotten to use this. You liked it.”

“I did,” Lucy feels the anticipation rising, the cold leather a soothe against her hot skin. Her fingers drift, weak at the mere feeling of Ona’s bare hips beneath them. “I love the way you take control of me.”

Ona smiles wider, and sadly for her, she can’t exactly hide the sickeningly-cute glimmer that is ever-present in her happiness. “Good. I like taking control of you.”

“I didn’t hurt you earlier? On the floor?”

“No,” Ona murmurs absently, leaning down to kiss just above the collar in a way that makes Lucy’s head drop back. “No. I loved it.”

This time she supplies a mix of soft pecks and little suctioning nips, but it’s more than enough for Lucy to feel the unbearable heat pulsing harder around her clit, and contractions of her inner muscles, wanton for pleasure.

“Darling-“ she breathes, sweat blooming on her heated skin where it meets Ona’s.

“Ay, be patient my love.” Ona murmurs, finally drifting her kisses to the swell of Lucy’s breasts. She taps Lucy’s shoulder for her to lift it, unclipping her bra and peeling it off. Lucy tries not to let the vulnerability get to her, because the way Ona was looking at her was nothing short of superfluous passion.

No, for Ona, this is no egotistical pursuit. She wastes no time in tracing her tongue around Lucy’s nipple, watching it harden, before taking it between her supple lips. Her hand gropes the other firmly, and the feeling really is all quite sublime. Lucy’s hips buck, and Ona takes it as a cue to reach her hand down again, palm firm on her abdomen, intent on making Lucy squirm. Then writhe. Then whine brokenly when Ona does nothing but apply intense pressure and drift her fingers along her underwear’s waistband.

“Ona please,” Lucy whimpers, clenching hard.

Ona releases her nipple, preening at her desperation. “You’re so strong, you could do whatever you wanted to me.”

Lucy squeezes down on her hip. “No- come on, don’t tease.”

“So cute. You can’t control yourself,” Ona slips her fingers past the elastic, challenging eyes not leaving Lucy’s raw expression. Reading her dry. With playful arrogance, she whispers, “Can’t disobey me either.”

It’s true. Lucy could easily flip Ona over on impulse. Easily keep her still under her weight, easily push her face into the cushion and give her something to beg for. But she won’t…or maybe she really couldn’t. And that was quite terrifying.

Ona squeezes Lucy’s breast harder, in tandem with rubbing down the length of her soaked, swollen core. She grazes her teeth against Lucy’s other nipple, and Lucy jerks suddenly, every nerve in her body buzzing with how horribly she needs this. The thought of Ona’s strap was driving her wild, the same thought that had once been decisive on it being far too exposing and intense of an experience.

Ona grows gentler with her motions, flicking her tongue lewdly, smiling behind it all in a way that Lucy finds very endearing. A second finger joins at her clit, rubbing a few hard circles before pushing through to her entrance and edging inwards. Lucy drops her knee further to the side in anticipation. Ona had fingered her a few times now, and the orgasms it brought were otherworldly, so her body gets impossibly more responsive.

“Gotta get you ready if you think you can be a good girl and take it from me.” Ona tilts her head up after leaving Lucy’s chest suitably wet and littered with reddening marks. They kiss again, absent touches to Lucy’s breast help distract her from the faint sting of her around Ona’s finger. When it finally eases, and Ona diligently notices this, she positions a second to join it, patient and cautious of Lucy’s heavy breaths and light hisses when she gets a little too ambitious with the speed.

“I can take it.” Lucy huffs when Ona seems to hesitate and pause the kiss to assess her. Her body relaxes after a few gentle curls inwards, letting Ona’s surprisingly long fingers fill her as deep as they’ll go.

“That’s it,” Ona encourages, ignoring Lucy’s underwear against the back of her hand. “No one’s ever done it for you before? Strapped you?”

Lucy shakes her head. Too taken by the sensation and pleasurable overwhelm—and to a lesser degree, her bashfulness over this being a first time.

Ona begins to thrust gently, flexing her fingertips and dragging back against the sensitive muscle. “Aw, I’ll make it feel very good. You’re such a princess for me, Lucy.”

Lucy bites hard into her lip, mewling softly when Ona rubs purposefully against her g-spot. “ I love how obedient you are, and how much you let me teach you.” Her lips join back to Lucy’s, tugging at the collar gently while their breaths and mouths tangle, and Lucy begins to meet her fingers with languid grinds.

There’s a very brief moment where she nearly feels…emotional. Something about how strange it was to feel known, learned, so far beyond the surface by someone she’d hardly let know her for long at all. To know that person as well, irrevocably, to share a synchronicity that was so tangible and serendipitous it couldn’t possibly be fake. Couldn’t possibly be something other than fate.

Ona draws her fingers out, dropping a soft, final kiss to Lucy’s lips. “I know,” She puts the back of her hand to Lucy’s heated cheek, and Lucy is captivated by the fact she can see so much of the universe in Ona alone.

Ona shuffles back and slips off the couch, kneeling on the floor as she pulls out a dildo and a small bottle of lube.

Lucy perches on the edge, until Ona grabs a throw pillow and places it on the floor. “Kneel. Over the couch.” She commands, a vague hand-gesture while she situates the toy in its holster.

Lucy follows, lowering to the carpet, heart thumping out of her chest, knees cushioned by Ona’s thoughtful implement as she leans across the seat. Her hands join in front of her, digging her blunt nails into her wrists, until they’re pulled apart by Ona’s own hands. “Comfortable?” Ona asks, kissing her shoulder and then her lips while she manoeuvres Lucy’s hips higher, before slipping her underwear down and pulling it from under her feet.

“Yeah, this is good.” Lucy says, craning her head for another kiss while Ona rubs her fingers through Lucy’s wetness a few more times.

After an impatient writhe from Lucy, Ona pulls back to line herself up. She drags the thick toy through her a few times before finally breaching her entrance, her thumb guiding it in, and Lucy feels her spine turn to liquid. It was the thought of it, the weight of what it meant, the freedom of finally letting herself go.

Ona slips in past the tip, making Lucy muffle a groan into her forearm from the sudden fullness. “It’s good?”

“Shit, really good,” Lucy encourages breathlessly, morphing into a yelp when Ona spanks her ass, before holding it still with a firm grip, guiding her cock forward until their skin is flush and the length stills deep inside of her.

“This is where I want you, carino.” Ona’s tone asserts, and Lucy finally glances back, her lips parted and breath laboured. If the pleasurable depth wasn’t enough, the knowledge that Ona’s hips were behind every moment made it all the more maddening. Something very exposing about it all, something she has…fuck…been immensely missing out on.

Ona’s thrusts begin as soft movements, careful, until Lucy gets indignant and starts rocking back into the toy, the angle hitting her perfectly when Ona does it just right. The eagerness earns her another hard spank, and her front collapses deeper into the cushion for support, gripping one of the throw pillows ahead of her. “Fucking- Oh, Ona, yes,” She moans her eyes closing in submission to the feeling as Ona starts bottoming out with each thrust.

“Filthy girl. You’re dripping onto my floor.” Ona grumbles, and Lucy knows she could well be lying, but it's equally…very plausible. She enters heavy, pulling out slower and letting the friction drag until Lucy sees stars. She can’t see herself, wouldn’t like to, would just very much like for Ona to not stop.

Ona yanks her hair back, and Lucy whimpers, strangling into a moan as Ona fucks into her harder, quickly figuring out that Lucy liked shallow and fast thrusts. “Keep saying my name. Don’t go quiet on me.”

“I can’t…” Lucy’s words get choked by the breath Ona is forcing out of her.

She can hear Ona’s smirk, feel her fingers gripping the muscle of her ass tighter. “Can’t what?” Her free hand teases provocatively around where the strap repeatedly buries deep inside of her.

“Can’t come without touching my—clit.” Lucy whines into her arm, her arousal so heightened that it’s hard to think.

Ona ups her pace, making Lucy delirious with the pressure that is amounting deep in her stomach. Something different to her fingers, reaching further and fuller. “Is that so?” She huffs, focused on her effort. “Guess you will have to do something about it.”

“Can I- Can you?” Lucy stutters between moans, feeling so tight around Ona’s cock with the effort of bringing herself closer to orgasm, yet somehow, she wants more. “Wanna- come so badly,” she whines.

Ona chuckles exasperatedly, not faltering on the rhythm, Lucy melting from the delicious pulse of heat every time she bottoms out. “Oh? You want me to do it?”

Lucy feels the humiliation somewhere in her gut, but it only turns her on more when she’s feeling this good.

Ona groans, smacking Lucy’s ass again. “Tell mami what’you need. Ask nicely.”

“Touch me, please, make me come.” Lucy begs, fully accepting that she has lost her dignity. She only grows louder as Ona brings their knees closer and fucks her harder, moaning herself as her fingers rub messily over Lucy’s swollen clit.

“My good girl. So happy to be my slut. You gonna- come, come really hard for me?” Ona says, rough and raw.

Lucy cries out filthily with every heavy thrust, euphorically sensitive around the cock. She feels her body begin to shake as the pleasure blooms ferociously, rapidly, from within. “Fu- ah, God,” she gasps out, before her voice gets choked in her throat as she hits the precipice.

Ona doesn't relent, concentrating the rough circles of her clit while keeping a rapid pace. “Fuck, ohmygod-” With a sudden moan, Lucy feels herself break apart, the involuntary contractions around Ona’s cock making her go numb with ecstasy each time they hit.

She hears Ona panting behind her, easing her rhythm as she takes Lucy through each immense wave, her sobs stifled into the cushion beneath.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good,” Ona murmurs, catching her own breath before finally slowing to a stop.

She soothes a hand over Lucy’s back, up to her shoulders, pressing into the knots of tension that Lucy hadn’t even realised were there.

“That was so good,” Lucy drawls in bliss, unable to lift her head. “I think- can you pull out?”

“Of course.” Ona says without second thought, slowly retreating, before sitting back on her heels, momentarily exhausted.

When Lucy finally opens her eyes again, she has to drag her body back, slumping to the floor with Ona. She feels weightless, a release better than any drug. She finds herself leaning back against the couch, and Ona quickly joins – the toy discarded to the table.

She loops her arms around Lucy’s neck, ending up in her lap.

They share a breathless, bashful giggle, and Ona kisses her tenderly. “You should be in my lap. Not this.”

“Think I’m a bit too big.” Lucy murmurs, still floating somewhere far above here. Regardless, she tugs Ona closer.

“You’re never too big.” Ona purrs cheekily, making Lucy chuckle and cup her face to return her a lazy, but proper, kiss.

“Was I good? At that, I mean.” Lucy breathes quietly when they part.

“So good.” Ona grins cheekily. “I’m most confident in that position, so I didn’t really give you a choice.”

Lucy pushes Ona’s hair back behind her ears in gentle, repetitive motions. “Fine with me.” She affirms with a smile, letting her head drop lower until it’s hidden in the crook of Ona’s neck. Ona caresses her in return, squeezing her tight.

After a few quiet seconds, Lucy relaxes her legs until Ona is straddling her again. She glances up in admiration, twisting Ona’s hair into a ponytail behind her head to lift it off of her slightly sticky neck.

“Can I eat you out?” She asks bluntly, and Ona gives an exaggerated pull-back, blinking before grinning. “Sorry,” Lucy lowers her face, though smirking devilishly.

Ona tuts. “Is that how you ask a lady?” But she’s already moving off of Lucy and taking the thin cushion from under her.

“What’re you doing?”

“Lay.” Ona instructs, and as soon as the implication registers, Lucy feels a disbelieving grin hit her face. She watches Ona lean back and slip off the underwear. Her brazen attitude to sex was a particularly attractive trait of hers.

Lucy lays her head on the cushion, briefly debating if they should go to the bedroom instead, but it was quite thrilling to be eager enough to not exactly care where they were or how comfortable it was.

She reaches for Ona as she straddles her again, taking her down into another heated make-out. Her hands roam everywhere, sinking into the flesh of Ona’s ass, drifting higher to help her lose her bra. Ona begins to smile, and Lucy isn’t quite sure why, but it reads as something she is a bit shy of.

“D’you know half of what you do to me?” Lucy murmurs against her lips, keeping a stiff grip on her jaw. Ona manages to shake out of it, arching up with her hands on Lucy’s shoulders.

“Show, don’t tell, darlin’.”

Ona knees her way up to straddle Lucy’s face, gasping when her thighs are roughly pulled down and Lucy’s tongue shamelessly drags through her wetness.

“Cálmate,” Ona giggles with winded excitement, but Lucy is clear of her intentions with the iron grip. Ona belongs here, until she has nothing more to give. She’s hot, and soaked, and Lucy doesn’t know everything about this girl, but she damn knows how she likes her pussy eaten.

Ona isn’t shy to set a precedent, grinding in tandem with Lucy’s tongue—-who is flattening it to bring forth every nerve of arousal, more than happy with the arrangement of Ona taking what she needs. And Christ, Ona is all over her face, all she can taste, staggering her breath, and that feeling alone is making her feral.

“Fuck, can’t believe- I just fucked you, and you’re like this,” Ona sighs, her awe soon being clouded with much-needed pleasure as Lucy grips tighter and focuses her attention on her clit. Opting to not tease, she openly sucks it between her lips, leaving room for her tongue to flick between it.

Ona’s thighs stutter, the soft skin pressing hot against Lucy’s cheeks, and Lucy loses her own breath between the obscene sounds of her mouth in Ona’s cunt, and the high whines of pleasure that are falling from Ona’s lips. Evidently very turned on from wearing the strap-on.

“Me encanta, mucho,” Ona manages to say, rocking her hips filthier. Lucy only digs her nails in harder. “Joder, eres mía, verdad?”

Perhaps Ona was finally catching onto how crazy her mother-tongue made Lucy. She takes a moment to readjust, and Lucy follows, looping her hands with full reverence around Ona’s muscular thighs. She presses her tongue repeatedly into her clit, one particular spot just below it that makes Ona stop her motions and quiver still.

But just as she seems to get close, letting more of her weight pleasantly suffocate Lucy and her moans break from lower in her throat, just as Lucy feels the rewarding ache of her jaw—-she pushes off. And Lucy panics. “Baby- what’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing. That was amazing. You’re a mess.” Ona grins, her breath heavy. “I just- want to try something. If you do?”

Lucy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Anything.” She huffs, quite envious of Ona’s self-control, but slightly disappointed that she wouldn’t get to feel the extent of her orgasm from that overwhelming position.

Ona quickly shifts back down, kissing Lucy and tasting herself on her tongue. The kiss is messy, untamed in a way that it can only be after they’ve exhausted each other just a bit.

Then she does something unexpected. Her hand drifts deliberately across Lucy’s thigh, lifting it and pushing it forward. Her hips reposition, a leg across Lucy’s. Their eyes lock, saliva still connecting their kissed-out lips.

Lucy goes to speak, but her words are cut off by a silent, sharp breath.

Ona aligns her centre with Lucy’s, and bears down lightly, heat and slick intermingling in a sensation that has Lucy’s chest flurrying with excitement.

The girl stays quiet at first, making a soft rock forward, looking ethereal with her lips shining and eyes softened by desire. Lucy fully gasps, seizing her hip. “Oh- God love, that’s good,” Lucy watches her with pleasant shock, the feeling pulsing all through her.

“Si? It’s good?” Ona affirms, bracing on her forearms as she finds a new angle that is utterly delicious for both of them. Her hips move languidly, small grinds that offer hot, wet friction across her responsive nerves, and the occasional brush of their clits which has Lucy holding back her heart from escaping her chest. “You done this before?” Ona breathes, clearly on just as intense of a trip, clearly holding part of it back.

Lucy tries to answer, though she feels unbearably warm and shaky. “I- can’t remember, to be honest,”

And it wouldn’t quite matter if she had or not. Either way, Ona is all she knows right now. All she wants to know.

Ona’s eyes flutter shut, and Lucy pulls her head down closer. Suddenly, she had looked soft and open, almost unrecognisably so.

“Don’t hold back. Use me.” Lucy groans as Ona grinds deeper, and her free hand grasps Ona’s ass, guiding it back and forth until her own head drops back from the tightening heat behind her clit. Ona’s hand locks into hers, and with a soft huff, she gives in and grinds more erratically.

“That’s it,” Lucy breathlessly encourages, feeling her tremble and worry less about what she was doing to Lucy. “Be messy, your pussy feels incredible. So wet and good. Love having you this close.”

Ona whines higher, gripping Lucy’s shoulder with all the strength she has—which is a considerable amount, considering how near to orgasming she seems to be. Lucy rolls her own hips in tandem, arching so Ona can get the best angle and stimulate as much of herself as possible. It’s a novel and deeply physical intensity; the kind that feels closer to tension beneath her ribs and emotion riling her heart. It’s simultaneously gradual and sudden, but how else could she conceptualise the sensation of Ona’s cunt rubbing against her own.

Ona becomes desperate. Unrestrained. Lucy steadies her in the only way she knows how; swallowing down her moans, tensing her muscles, and being filthy with the way she moves against her, groaning and whining herself when Ona quivers in her grip and ruts herself wildly until she snaps apart in a sudden moan.

“Fuck baby,” Lucy keens, chest heaving, vaguely feeling the spasms of Ona’s orgasm releasing against her, one by one pulling gorgeous sounds that are ruthless to Lucy’s sanity.

Yet past the objectively shameless carnality of it all, the intimacy is rampant and profound. It’s almost a paradox; so beyond restraint that it has become intimate again.

Ona collapses to Lucy’s chest, whimpers woven into her breath. Somehow she feels Lucy’s tension, and before Lucy can even process it herself, she’s untangling their legs and shoving her fingers between Lucy’s thighs. “Ona-” Lucy chokes, but Ona hushes her with a bruising kiss and rubs frantically up and down her clit.

“Yes, fuck, you know- how to make me come.”

It hardly takes a minute before she breaks apart with a strained sob, the orgasm fires into parts of her body she didn’t know it could reach. Muscle by muscle, they give into failure.

Ona pants, her forehead on Lucy’s shoulder. In the pleasure’s wake is a shocking hollowness, a shaking breath from both of them that sounds like they might be crying or laughing. No, there was no pain in it, likely some joy, but not the easy kind. The heavy kind, the kind that is so human it makes you wonder why we live so much in our minds rather than our bodies.

Ona doesn’t show her face. She lets herself be held, simultaneously reminding Lucy that she too was the focal point of Ona’s world.

Then, Lucy almost says it for the first serious time. But even the starting syllable gets lost in a sea of intensity, and suddenly it could never just be the three words. There’s a million others to add along with it. And for that reason, now could never be the right time. She kisses Ona’s temple, wondering quietly if she was thinking the same thing.

That is quite a problem, she recognises. The longing in her heart was the insatiable bit, and it keeps stabbing her sharply when she remembers Ona isn’t even hers. Not really. The make-believe during sex was nothing but that. Fanciful, heart-wrenching make-believe. She has to address it, has to say something sooner rather than later. And if Ona can’t do the hard bit, then she will.

O.B

Ona offers to draw them a bath. Her limbs are numb and buzzing, her heart is ferociously ablaze. Somehow, in the short time she confines herself to the bathroom, she misses Lucy.

As the sound of the bath filling drowns out her thoughts, she stares at her naked self in the mirror. Something about this time feels different—her body feels abstract to her, not entirely real. She presses a thumb to her ribs, drifting lower down, to her hip-bone, where faint marks have been imprinted by Lucy’s fingers. Her neck glitters with affection, and she finds herself a bit embarrassed over how distressingly jealous she became at the prospect of someone else having Lucy.

Jealousy wasn’t familiar to her, neither was the possessive insanity that followed. It had been passion as she’d never felt before, but beneath it all was heat that burned more than it comforted.

The door unlatches abruptly, and she startles. Lucy carries their clothes, setting them on the counter before wordlessly approaching her from behind. Ona watches their faces in the fogging reflection as she is embraced, her breasts held in the ample space of Lucy’s hands.

Lucy leans in to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Ona smiles, a giggle not quite surfacing, backing up closer regardless.

“You’re perfect.” Lucy murmurs, pressed against her enough that it can be heard over the rush of water. Or maybe she feels it, the vibration spoken against her skin.

“Thank you,” Ona replies, a twinkle in her eyes as she turns enough to catch Lucy’s lips in a gentle kiss. She visibly softens, “I’m happy.”

Was she? Was this happiness? It doesn't quite feel as such, it feels like she’s watching herself slip away all over again. Yet she was feeling joy, feeling safety too. Someone wanted to have a bath with her for the sake of it. Just because it was nice.

“You are? Good.” Lucy answers. “I’m happy too.”

Ona glances over at the tub, the sound of the tap becoming slightly overbearing. “Turn it off. We can get in.” She says, twisting her hair up into a high-bun as Lucy quietly follows the suggestion. Always a bit more placated after sex.

Lucy offers her a hand so she herself can step in.

“I’ve never had a bath with someone before.” Ona decides to share, debating after the fact if it sounded strange or tender.

“Oh?” Lucy smiles, before easing her way in to sit down. “Why’d you say?”

Ona shrugs lightly, but finds herself fighting a smile. “I feel like I’ve done most things.”

“You’ve still got a lot to learn and try. I’m very sure.”

She settles in front of Lucy, shifting down so she can lay her head back on Lucy’s shoulder and let her broad arms wrap around her front. Her eyes close. The water envelopes them in a way that is warm and exposing, heightening the closeness to a near-suffocating degree. Sometimes you need a good suffocation though, Ona always found she breathed a lot clearer after it.

“Comfortable?” Ona asks, after a silence that made her anxiety spike. Worried that Lucy was having second thoughts about what they had done, or at large, what was happening between them.

“Yeah. Really nice. Thanks baby.” Lucy affirms, absently running her hand over Ona’s stomach.

Ona relaxes her legs until they’re also fully submerged. She cranes her head up just a bit, not enough to see Lucy, but enough to show her attention, “Did you enjoy everything?”

She had been much more careful this time to not overwhelm Lucy with questions immediately after the fact. On the contrary to her concerns, Lucy answers easily. “So much. I loved it. Especially when we…”

Ona grins at the exciting memory. “Me too. I didn’t expect it but I liked it so much. Really…intimate.” She muses, like the intimacy had somehow been unforeseen.

“This is intimate too.”

“Yes, but different.” Ona says, a shy grin pulling at her lips.. “You’re so…firm. I’ve never been able to, like, feel someone’s muscles before.”

She isn't sure why Lucy’s strength enamours her so intensely. Maybe it’s the fact her voice and personality contrast that so drastically. That’s not to say Lucy isn’t a strong character—she very much is, strong in ways Ona could never be. There’s just no bravado to it, no arrogant challenge she carries.

“I try.” Lucy preens, flexing her arms for effect.

They go quiet again. After a few minutes, Ona turns in her grasp, settling against her chest and resting there for some time. Her eyes shut, she feels at peace.

Lucy watches her. Not intensely, just in a way Ona can’t bring herself to meet.

Occasionally, she pushes water over the exposed part of Ona’s back, not wanting her to get cold.

Ona lifts her head, her eyes slanted from the rest. “Mhm, want to switch? Be in my arms?”

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Lucy’s breath shallows out. Her lips part for some time, close to speaking, and Ona starts to feel the beating of her heart beneath her hand.

“We should go to the gym together some time.”

Ona flushes with relief. “You’re such a show-off.”

Later, Ona reads her Kindle in bed while Lucy sits at her vanity and untangles a pile of necklaces that Ona had long-abandoned from the effort.

The clock by her bedside ticks, she rustles the sheets when she crosses or uncrosses her legs, and Lucy’s breath hitches when her fingers fumble and the gold slips from her grasp.

Lucy looks up at her every once in a while, like she can see the way Ona is skimming the same line over and over.

Ona brushes her screen, the page finally turning.

“Lucy?”

The final third and final necklace drops, and Ona can hear the heavy heart in Lucy’s throat. “Yeah?” She glances over.

Ona is still staring at the next page, but her mind is stuck on a different story entirely. The one Lucy knows nothing of, the one that captures her thoughts the most on nights like this when she hears change creeping up on her, and those shameful chapters suddenly become relevant again.

She pulls her lips in before releasing them. “Earlier, you pulled the cheating card in the game.”

“Yeah…did you want to talk about it?”

No, she doesn’t at all.

“I feel very…how do you say, guilty. Like I’ve been hiding it from you. Not just that but- a lot of things.”

The thumping in her chest is ceaseless. She keeps a straight face, masking the scream letting out inside of her, echoing louder with every passing second.

“You can talk to me.”

Ona nods begrudgingly, setting down her Kindle and staring blankly at her lap. It takes her some time to speak, and she feels a cascade of emotions punish her face. Somehow, first, is honesty. “You know, I feel a lot of…shame, about who I was, back then. And shame about things I did.”

Lucy turns her body fully, careful with her tone. “I know you carry a lot on your shoulders. But…”

God, this was awful beyond measure. Lucy had never once pushed, never asked, always treaded so cautiously like Ona was too fragile for the truth—and maybe she was right all along. How had she grown so terrified of her own truth?

“It’s not only one thing. It’s everything about who I was.”

Ona sees her younger self all the time. She wears her hair long, her makeup bold, her smile bright and deceiving. There’s no real distinction between the sober and uninhibited versions—sometimes Ona has to sit and decipher which it is, and the real kicker is that both pretend to be the other.

Who was she? She was the drugs. She was the lying to her parents. She was the obsession with rough and reckless sexual encounters. She was the great music and the failed exams. She was the desperation to be hurt, anything to show people that she was hurting, that there was something she needed healed.

There were more pressing matters than introducing her to Lucy right now. “This girl, my ex, Lucy…she really, really fucked me up.”

Lucy hangs suspended in the pressing weight of Ona’s silence. Ona always felt like if she thought about her too much, she might show up again. So she just doesn’t. Doesn’t talk about her either. Same with her younger self, though she’s marginally better company because at least she doesn’t know at all what she’s doing.

Ona’s never spoken the words aloud before. Never told a soul that she was fucked up, not just by her own fault, but by specific people. It was easier to take the sole blame for being, for lack of better descriptors, a disaster. Only in her growing age can she return retrospectively and see the many, many wrongs; and somehow, it hurts far more to acknowledge it now than it ever did back then.

“Talk about her. I don’t mind.” Lucy says softly.

Then, Ona sees the rave lights blinding her sensitive eyes, the burn of her tongue, a rush of freedom, the sound of her parents scolding her only existing in her peripheral because all that mattered was the now. Who was wanting her now. How could she be in control now.

“When I met her, I was still…doing so many bad things. Bad for myself, you know?”

“Yeah.” Lucy answers, only half-committed to showing her composure. It’s scary, Ona knows this, she hates to frighten Lucy, but she is feeling quite frightened herself. Always has been, really. “How old?”

“Me? I was like, eighteen. She was older. But I started…being irresponsible, much younger.” Ona swallows, feeling her stomach turn. Not with fear now, with disgust. “I did cheat on her, because she cheated on me, lots of times, and wanted me to feel bad about it. I think…we were both very addicted to being hurt.”

She pauses, before speaking again, slow and careful. “When she did it, I didn’t say a thing. ‘Cause I was young and I thought I needed her. But at the end, she found out I did it too, and she…she was terrible. She wanted to hurt me, so badly, and I never forgot that feeling. I wasn’t scared when it happened, because nothing scared me then. Now it does, and I get so sad, all the time, for my younger self, you know.”

Ona takes a small breath that carries her body-weight in strength, no longer hand-picking her words. No longer able to. They were falling without her control. “Sorry. I don’t know why I'm saying all of this. I think…I only want you to know I’m not a bad person. Or- you can think I am a bad person, I don’t know, I don’t mind.” she says, feeling pale as the white sheets beneath her. “I don’t think I’m a bad person though. Not anymore.” She mutters, her shoulders finally falling drawing in as she realises she cannot possibly return now.

“You’re not a bad person Ona,” Lucy says without needing to second-guess it. “Fuck, like, I know you’ve been through shit. I know you think you hide it but…I know, okay? And that’s fine. It doesn’t change who you are.”

It’s all empty calories to Ona. She’d never taken Lucy for a fool, but even as she tries to explain it, she feels utterly incompetent and rather childish. She had accepted that there were many things that others would never understand, because she couldn’t understand them herself, but for a rare moment, she wishes Lucy would just see her for all she is. No words needed.

So she doesn’t quite acknowledge the response, finding a question in her mind that had been plaguing her for months. Maybe if she says it out loud, the answer will finally come. “I had stopped thinking about her. But lately, she keeps showing up again. Her, other people, the feelings, memories of my teenage years. I get…”

“Flashbacks?”

Ona picks hard at her cuticle, until the skin gives way with a pulse of immense pain. “Flashbacks, yes, to those, and it’s really bad.”

Lucy doesn’t speak before being certain, and Ona is ever so grateful for it.

This ex was only a small part of her equation. Crucially, Ona was able to leave her. There was no clean slate when it came to herself and her own wounds. This same body would be carried with her for the rest of her life—the damage she did to her tolerance, the scars from dangerous play that never healed.

Lucy finds the question. “Why d’you think that is?”

“I don’t know.” Ona admits weakly. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I am finally becoming okay with who I am. I feel like, I’ve done lots of good, to…to counter, all the wrongs, you know.”

Lucy shifts off the chair, crawling up onto the bed, but Ona softly puts her hand out to stop it. She can’t be touched right now. Instead, she pats the space next to her.

Lucy doesn't get right up close to her, but finds her lingering hand in the gap between their

bodies. “If we all spent our lives trying to right our wrongs, we’d forever be chasing our own tails.”

They don’t look at each other, instead looking at the painting hung across from them. An ocean beneath a purple-pink sky, somewhere on the Costa Brava.

“The other day, when you came to me at the airport. That was hard.”

Lucy gives her hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” She says softly.

“No, it’s fine, really. I just…felt like that small girl again. Who was always in a state, from someone or something. And after Sunday…I felt the shame again, and I haven’t felt it before in so long. It’s why I called Alessia, I felt like I couldn’t look at you. But I couldn’t be alone either.”

And that had always been the case. Ona has to let her head drop back against the headboard or she might throw up, her whole body wound with crippling anxiety.

“But you weren’t in a state, you were just a bit tipsy. And you know, I was more than happy to do that.” Her heart twists further from the attentive, deeply caring voice Lucy implores. Just for her.

Her palm sweats so much, she has to let go. Her voice breaks shaky in the harrowing memory of trying so hard to numb herself that she lost control altogether.

Drinking hadn’t even been her biggest problem, it was mostly the hasty excitement of being offered a new pill, a new bottle, something different every night. Of course, she came to have her favourites, the ones that were hardest to forget the thrill of. “I know. But it felt the same. Same as when my brother used to pull me off the ground from wherever I was and get me safe again. And…I think he still looks at me sometimes like I’m that girl. It’s not even painful Lucy, it’s just so embarrassing.”

“Sweetheart…” Lucy’s voice is only breath, before finding it again after a long silence. “You’ve seen me cry. You’ve held me and been brave enough to hurt me when I've asked for it, God, you’ve seen me break down and not even be able to talk to you. But you stayed, you were always so gentle and empathetic, and I will stay and do the same. So please don’t be embarrassed around me. Talk about this stuff, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ona so badly wants Lucy to run, to fight with her about it, and it makes her so restless in her own skin that Lucy keeps resisting. Even when she sounds scared, even when she is grappling with her own desires and questions about what this all means.

“Sorry. I know it’s not the same.” Lucy adds, quieter.

“It’s fine, I appreciate the…understanding. I just…needed to get this out.”

Out it was, all of those uninvited ghosts now stand at their headboard, waiting to pounce. Like falling in a dream, she knows they can’t hurt her, but her adrenaline still races like they will.

Lucy brings Ona’s trembling hand up to her lips. “I’m with you. And…I want you to tell me this stuff in your own time. I know, it’s a lot, but thanks for telling me. I feel like…I understand you a lot more now.”

Ona nods once, her breath concerningly shallow. Her mouth opens, not a sound breaking for some time. “Just one more for now. I—- wanted you to know I’m sober now. From- the things I used to do.”

“I assumed so. Not- that I would judge if you did. I know, these things stay with you.”

They come and they go, Ona wants to say. She would never tolerate a view of herself that defined her by her sorrows, or those few things that stayed with her.

For a long time after she escaped her destructive habits and company, she was ruled by pessimism. Met everyone with the belief that she was changed irrevocably from those experiences and someone innocent, someone like Lucy, would never understand her. She soon learned that letting in no love and no compassion at all would make her downright miserable, and in fact, that wasn’t her at all. She loved love, she loved connection, it was just so hard to welcome it in any deep capacity when her first introductions were her searching for it in all the wrong places. The more she took, the more it took away.

Seems as though Lucy understands more than she even lets on. “I saw…you kept Naltrexone around. So I sort of had an idea.”

Ona’s head snaps in her direction. “Really?”

“Ona,” Lucy says with the kind of sympathy that stings when she feels this vulnerable. Ona seems not to breathe for a considerable amount of time. “I don’t care-“

“It’s just in case. I haven’t touched…any of that, in a long time. But- I almost did in Barcelona. That’s why I left.”

Lucy turns her head towards her, surprisingly calm and measured. They seemed to take the uncertainty in turns. “Then I think it’s quite courageous that you foresaw the risk and moved.”

“I know, but don’t you think that’s a problem? I just…run. When I’m scared.”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you should do in a situation like that. You were protecting yourself.” Lucy says, and Ona feels herself sinking further down the mattress.

“I don’t want to have to protect myself. Do you have to protect yourself?”

Lucy considers it for a moment. “If I've learned anything in my growth, it’s that we’re all very different, and there’s nothing wrong with not being able to do certain things. Really Ona, I’m sorry you dealt with those things and I know I won’t ever fully understand it, but…”

“Lucy.” Ona turns to her, clasping her hand. “I want anything from you but your pity. No pity, no sorrys, please. It…just makes me feel worse.” She says with a noncommittal smile.

“-But I need you to know I’m here.” Lucy finishes her sentence regardless, and Ona has never so much enjoyed being undermined.

And so she collapses into her. Lucy holds her tightly, even as her smile turns to tears.

next chapter (soon)

a/n; lowk feel like this is the best chapter so far...thank you so much to my 2 dear pals who helped me proof-read this, especially the final section, you added the final touches!!

group hug for ona rn. next chapter we may or may not find out if they date, stay tuned!!

#woso fanfic #lucy bronze fanfic #ona batlle fanfic #lucy bronze imagine #woso au #woso imagine #lucy bronze x ona batlle #woso fic #barca femini fanfic #hardest of hearts

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