loubbie having wild rough sex with a strap then realizing how good they are at it even if they’re in their 50s already lmao this is silly but like it goes something like “how are we in our 50s?” or whatever fits
“It was not,” Debbie snorted, her face turning red with laughter as Lou shook her head.
“I shit you not. Right in the dishwasher.”
“Next to Dani’s pink sippy cup?”
“I’m not a monster,” Lou rolled her eyes. “I’d never put it next to her favorite one. It was next to the green one.”
“You’ve lost it, Miller,” the brunette grinned. “Now get over here. No more delays.”
“First off, it’s the most efficient way to clean them both,” the blonde pointed out, crawling onto the bed. “Second, you’re the one who asked me to find the bigger one.”
Lou sat the dildo down on the night table, the base suctioning to the surface with a bubble-like sound. “Now are you gonna kiss the hell out of me, Ocean, or not?”
“Get over here,” Debbie smirked, pulling the blonde in closer and wrapping her arms around her neck as she tugged her up along the bed and laid Lou flat against her.
“I thought you’d never ask, Mrs. Miller,” the blonde murmured, nails raking down Debbie’s chest as their lips meant until Lou was drifting down her wife, running her lips over her breasts, sucking at her nipples, biting her way down her stomach, making a detour to nip at her thighs before circling back to Debbie’s simmering heat to swirl her tongue through Debbie’s pooling arousal.
“Fuck, I love when Tammy takes the kids for the night,” Debbie moaned.
Lou looked up at Debbie from between her legs, arching an eyebrow before she wiped Debbie’s slickness off her lips with the back of her hand pointedly.
“Please don’t use your ex’s name and the word love in the same sentence, especially while my tongue is inside you.”
“She’s your ex too,” Debbie exhaled, pushing Lou’s head back down as the blonde laughed against her, grazing her clit maybe a little too hard with her teeth as Debbie cried out. “Was merely grateful for her as a babysitter precisely so I could have your tongue inside me.”
Lou bit down on her thigh before she looked up again. “Then clearly, I’m not doing enough to get your mind off of the kids,” she smirked, blindly grabbing at the dildo before plunging it into Debbie without warning, the brunette letting out a deep moan as her nails dug into Lou’s neck.
“Jesus, Fuck, Lou.”
“Had to shut you up,” Lou hissed, pumping the dildo in and out as Debbie groaned, cursing and grabbing at the blonde, biting down on her shoulder after reaching an entirely new level of loud to keep from going completely shrill. “Still thinking about anything else?”
“Just…your strap,” Debbie panted.
“Just the strap?” Lou asked, her rhythms stopping with the dildo just outside of Debbie, the tip brushing against her teasingly.
“And you…only you…Fuck!” Debbie moaned, Lou plunging the dildo all the way inside her. Hard. As Debbie fell over the edge, clinging to the blonde.
“Not bad,” Lou spoke aloud, an hour or so later, her finger running along Debbie’s exposed spine, tracing over her skin softly as Debbie let out a sleepy hum of agreement. “Glad to know we’ve still got game.”
“Strap game,” Debbie chuckled.
“That’s all mine, love.”
“Takes two to tango, Miller.”
“Also takes two for the finale,” Lou giggled, tugging at a fistful of Debbie’s hair to catch an additional moan from her partner before Debbie rolled over with a lazy smile.
“You get the Chinese and I get the ice cream?” Debbie asked.
“Just let me throw on some boxers.”
“Don’t,” Debbie grinned, watching the blonde stand up, walking towards the bathroom before placing a kiss on Debbie’s forehead. “Did you ever think we’d still be up to our same antics in our fifties?”
“Honey, you just wait until we hit our sixties,” Lou winked.
Summary: The Life and Times of the Heist Wives family, chronicled by things attempted after speaking the timeless declaration, “hold my beer” or Five Times Lou Miller said “hold my beer” before doing something spectacular and stupid, and a couple times someone else did.
I owe this ficlet to a conversation I was having earlier with @smashingmagicklovely about
1. how I wanted a full compilation of everything Lou has ever done after saying "hold my beer"
2. How Lou is badass but Soft on the Inside and Debbie is a non-romantic smartass but Soft For Lou.
and 3. how "my womb says yes but my heart says no" essentially sums up my entire attitude toward writing Heist Wives domestic fluff.
This is the fruits of my labor. Thanks Em for drop kicking my muse at ten o'clock at night.
Tagging @casliyn, @louxdebbie, and @oceansnineball because I feel like Dani and Darcy became ‘a thing’ somewhere between the three of them and an onslaught of adorable Instagram AUs.
Lou sprawls across two separate bar stools in Nine Ball’s pub, watching Debbie beat herself at a game of pool. “I got good in prison,” she had explained the first time she creamed Nine Ball.
“You had a pool table in prison?” Nine Ball asks incredulously, blowing a cloud of smoke over the table.
Debbie shakes her head. “Nope. I had a pen and some paper, and once I finished the Greatest Heist of All Time I calculated the angle of every shot in a standard game of pool and invented new scenarios until I ran out of ink.”
Not for the first time tonight, Lou wonders how she got so lucky as to love a woman as clever as Debbie Ocean. She’s not stupid—Deb is lucky as Hell to have Lou covering her ass, but that’s the magic of it. They click like a hairpin and a padlock, picking their way through barriers and unhinging each other as they go.
Lou turns to Amita, who’s perched demurely beside her with a fucking spectacular cosmo. Lou knows—she made Nine Ball show her the recipe. “Hold my beer,” she instructs Amita, sliding it down the counter to her. She steps on her bar stool, swaying as it spins.
“Holy shit,” she hears Debbie murmur, looking up from her one-sided game. “Lou—”
Lou steps onto the bar and weaves through a line of empty drinks until she’s perched on the corner, in front of Debbie. She fishes through her pocket until she finds the ring. She drops to one knee, knocking over a half-empty margarita in the process. She can feel the tequila soaking into the knee of her jeans.
“Debbie Ocean, darling, m’love, my partner in crime, my favorite felon on the planet, I love you from the bottom of twisted criminal heart. Will you marry me?”
2.
They host the wedding reception at Tammy’s, because unlike the warehouse, Tammy’s place has grass and trees and aesthetic value; no to mention it lacked the warehouse’s air of chaos. It also smells of hydrangeas, rather than takeout Chinese food and expensive perfume—which mattered, apparently. At least, Rose and Daphne seemed to think so, and by that point Debbie and Lou took the backseat in planning their own wedding ceremony. They were perfectly content to marry in a courthouse, surrounded by their friends, but apparently that lacked romantic oomph.
(For her part, Lou found the idea of eloping in secret very romantic, but she can’t deny the feel of grass under her bare feet and the tickle of a breeze through her cream-colored suit.)
Lou and Debbie wander from the small party as the sky darkens. Fireflies drift through their vision like tiny lanterns, and gypsy moths swim in their path, clumsily seeking the porch lights. They stroll hand in hand down Tammy’s endless driveway, buzzed on quality alcohol and the undeniable high of their own marriage. Lou lets her eyes wander down Debbie’s figure, striking in an royal blue dress that whispers sprite-like across her skin.
No white, she told Rose, to the designer’s loud protests.
White is the color of a wedding dress.
No, white is the color of ‘purity’ and has too many connotations attached. It’s not even about virginity—I’m a con artist, for fuck’s sake. You’re an amazing designer, and you have my full confidence, but it feels wrong for me to marry Lou in angel-white.
Lou stops before a shiny object on the ground; squinting in the vanishing daylight; she makes out the outline of a child’s Razor scooter. An idea crosses her mind, too quickly for her to refuse it.
“I know that look,” Debbie warns her, eyeing the scooter.
“Hold my beer, darling” Lou says, handing Debbie her drink—not a beer, in fact, but a flute of champagne—and flips the scooter onto its wheels.
“Lou this feel like a bad idea.”
“Nonsense.” She kicks off, barefoot in her wedding suit, and sails down the driveway. She’s done wheelies on her motorbike before; this has to be easier. She jumps once, twice, then lifts up the front tire—and topples over onto Tammy’s lawn in three awkward, lunging steps.
Debbie cackles. “Not quite a motorbike, is it Lou?”
3.
They honeymoon on Daphne Kluger’s private beach, because of course Daphne Kluger owns a private beach, a tiny tropical place sprung from the Caribbean, half a mile long. Perhaps it’s excessive, extravagant, but they’re not complaining when Daphne offers to let them stay in a fucking gorgeous beach house and have the ocean to themselves for two weeks.
“We should crack open one of those coconuts.” Debbie gazes at a hunched palm, shielding her eyes from the sun. Her skin has warmed and bronzed; her mischievous grin is infectious. Lou can’t say no to those soft brown eyes.
“Want me to knock one down?”
Debbie smirks. “If you can,” pretending she doesn’t know Lou will take it as a dare.
Lou looks up at the palm tree, laden with four coconuts. It doesn’t seem particularly difficult to shimmy up, but the tangerine sunset and her fourth drink of the evening has her seeing the world through a pair of rose-tinted, how-hard-can-it-be glasses. She makes up her mind.
“Hold my beer.”
Lou squeezes the tree trunk between her thighs and begins to climb. The bark scrapes her skin; sure she’s only wearing a bikini and a breezy blouse, but the glint in Debbie’s eye promised a lusty reward for her efforts. She hangs from the top of the tree and kicks a coconut. The palm leaves catch her button-up and scratch along her exposed torso. Her efforts pay off—a massive coconut drops to the sand below with a decisive whack. Debbie whoops. Lou shimmies down the trunk and downs the rest of her drink.
When they relay the story at home, Daphne asks how the hell Lou managed to climb a palm tree in a bikini.
“Drunkenly,” she replies, “having forgotten what thigh chafing feels like.”
4.
A car revs outside the window. Lou looks up from the textbook length Swedish instruction set. “Fuck,” she mutters.
“This isn’t happening today,” says Nine Ball, gazing over the sea of bars and screws that could theoretically build a crib.
Lou groans and sips her beer. “Tammy you’ve built one of these. Help us out?”
Tammy shrugs. “They’ve changed the design since Alicia was born. Sorry.” But she’s made more progress than the rest of them, having managed to fit the bottom boards of the crib together into a solid surface.
“You’re a fence; I thought you knew how this shit worked.”
Tammy crossed her arms and got up from the floor, dusting off her jeans. “Yeah, I don’t build the things I fence.”
“Uh-huh,” says Nine Ball. “I always thought you’re one of those… DIY moms.”
“Only on occasion.”
The front door of the warehouse slams shut. “Where the hell is everyone?” Debbie’s voice echoes from the floor below them.
The group of them, somehow sweating and sore from failing to assemble the worlds’ shittiest IKEA crib, emerge from the room. Lou leans over the railing and smiles at her wife, who at six months pregnant (and beyond over it) has managed to carry four-and-a-half people’s worth of Chinese takeout in her arms while balancing an extra-large 7-11 lemonade between her chin and her baby bump and sucks nonchalantly on the bright red straw.
Sight for sore eyes, Lou thinks fondly, because she’s a fucking sap who loves this woman more every day.
She turns to Nine Ball. “Hold my beer,” and swings her leg over the railing. Nine Ball rolls her eyes as Lou slides down the spiral staircase at breakneck speed. She attempts to flourish as she rounds the final bend, but it quickly becomes an emergency crash landing, as she topples spectacularly onto the warehouse floor. With all the confidence of a clumsy woman who’s convinced the world she’s graceful, she dusts herself off and proceeds to trip over the couch, which has apparently moved three feet since last she saw it. She eats it again and finally stands to meet the half-amused eyes of Debbie Ocean.
In lieu of a greeting, she presses a kiss to Debbie’s lips, then to her neck, then to her belly for Creature (as they’ve insisted upon calling it, to everyone else’s chagrin) and then her lips again for good measure.
“I swear to God, Lou, if you die before this kid is born... ”
“Never,” Lou replies. Her hands curiously search Debbie’s midsection for a kick from Creature. “Just a couple of bruises. Although we might want to move the couch back to wherever it was.”
“No one moved it Lou. Your muscle memory isn’t worth shit.”
5.
Before Darcy is born, they take a vacation. Dani stays with Tammy—the “adult friend,” as Debbie so delicately put it when Constance asked why she couldn’t watch their child for a week. They rent a place along the Baja peninsula, a hidden coastal oasis to themselves, complete with a jacuzzi and an underground spring that bubbled into a natural pool. Overlooking the pool, to Debbie’s delight, a cliff perfect for high dives.
“How are you doing?” Debbie emerges from the house sporting a craft beer and an impressive sunburn.
Lou lifts her sunglasses. “Distracted,” she mutters.
“And how is Nessie doing?” Debbie asks, plopping onto the chaise. Her gaze softens, and pulls Lou into a warm kiss, slipping her hand under Lou’s green button-up to where their second daughter grew.
“Playing me like a fucking marimba,” Lou says softly, resting her hand over Debbie’s, over the taut skin of her belly. It’s funny, she can’t help thinking, the undisguised tenderness with which Debbie touches her. When Debbie was pregnant with Dani, she was all tough shell, and the entire nine months had been a stressful road littered with complications and doctor’s appointments and a couple close calls.
No way in Hell am I doing that again, Debbie swore, and quite understandably. Nope, no way, miracle my ass.
Well then I guess it’s my turn, Lou promised and kissed her against their creaking headboard.
Her turn—an unspeakably weird turn, she realized when first the alien creature moved inside her. Curious, the way it’s spoken on black and white British TV—curious. Weirder, perhaps, Lou woke one more to find Debbie softened like honey, curled around the new-to-them curve of her abdomen and smiling the sweetest thing she’d seen in months. Captivated the way she couldn’t be with Dani, and Lou in turn was bewildered by her.
“No shit,” Debbie whispers now, feeling Nessie (a nickname coined by Rose, of course) press against her hand. “You’re on vacation,” she mutters to the errant alien foot. “Relax.”
Lou tosses back her head and laughs. “Your voice only riles her up,” she says, shooing Debbie away with her hand.
“Her or you?” Debbie retorts, voice full of promise. So far, this vacation has rivaled their honeymoon in terms of good food and better sex.
“Both of us.” She pulls Debbie close and kisses her with fervor, pressing her thumb between Debbie’s thighs to elicit a rewarding groan. “God, you know how hot you are,” Debbie growls, her words slurring into something needy and near-impossible to resist. Debbie pinches the sensitive skin of her breast, and she’s wet already, God help her.
Debbie’s lips are running a full-on expedition of her body, tanned legs straddling her and her hand inside Debbie’s swimsuit, when few sharp sucker punches from the baby force her to break away. Debbie grumbles softly and runs her hand through Lou’s sun-bleached hair.
“More later,” Lou murmurs, low and husky, “when Loch Ness quiets down.” She’s gone on this woman, gone on Debbie Ocean forever. They’re conquering the goddamn world every second they spend in the same room. She doesn’t want Debbie more than three feet away, especially not now.
“Fine,” Debbie acquiesces. It’s playful, frustrated all the same. Debbie stands up at the promise of later. Then, her gaze fixes on the waterfall, and her eyes light up. “Hold my beer.” She shoves her drink into Lou’s hand and races to the pool.
“Fuck you, that’s my line!” Lou calls after her.
“Not anymore!” Debbie clambers up the slick rock, hauling herself onto the rock’s edge. She gets a running start, hurling herself into a front flip that from Lou’s vantage point is executed perfectly. Until it isn’t. Debbie hits the water in what can only be described as the most painful belly flop Lou has ever witnessed. She stands stone-still in the pool for a full minute before making her way to the edge.
“Are you alright, baby?” Lou shouts, half-teasing and half dead serious. Because when Debbie emerges from the water, she is the color of cheap boxed wine from her neck to her knees, pinching her stinging midsection with both hands.
“Fuck off,” Debbie mutters, but she’s chuckling through her pout, an indicator that she’s not severely injured herself.
Lou hands her back the bottle, cocking her eyebrow dangerously. “That’s what happens to people who laugh at me for getting stuck in the jacuzzi.”
6.
It is the twelfth anniversary of the Toussaint heist. Tammy, good friend that she is, offers to host the barbecue. She’s just purchased a backyard trampoline that has automatically made her the “most cool aunt” in the eyes of Dani and Darcy, and really, who can protest?
Debbie the grillmaster is flipping burgers, chatting with Daphne Kluger about her latest endeavor in directing, which is generating a fair amount of Oscar buzz. Amita and Constance are teaching Darcy how to steal jewelry off a person’s body without being caught, and what kind of hypocrite would Lou be o protest that it isn’t a useful life skill? Dani, predictably, has climbed onto the trampoline.
Lou’s heart swells as she watches her daughter bound across the elastic surface. “Hey,” she says to Rose, “hold my beer.”
She strides over to the trampoline and climbs on, shoes and all. She takes a couple steps onto the trampoline. “Hi Ma!” Dani cries enthusiastically.
“Hi Darling, are—” Her feet drop from under her. Apparently, the three-inch stiletto heels on her boots were less than ideal for a sheet of kevlar and rubber, because they’ve split two holes in the trampoline, and the woven strips of it are springing up everywhere, and Lou is flat on her ass beneath it.
Dani peers down at her, howling with laughter. “Ma you broke it!”
Lou scooches out from beneath the gaping hole, ass first, with the shreds of her grace and dignity.
7.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Darcy asks her older sister as Dani straps on her helmet and elbow pads.
“Great idea,” says Dani. She fixes her gaze on the massive pipe she’s rolled into the warehouse parking lot. On the other side of the pipe lies a ramp, and on the other side of that, a curb and chain-link fence she’ll just have to steer away from.
Dani mounts the skateboard and tests its wheels. Sturdy, smooth, waxed.
“You only finished it yesterday,” Darcy says skeptically.
“Yeah but it’s, like, the third prototype. This is the perfect board; trust me.” She’d snatched the old parts from junkyards and the back closets of skate shops and finagled them together into a board all her own.
“You have the camera rolling?” she asks, wiggling her board underfoot. Darcy nods.
“Great.” She quickly tames her hair into a top-knot and adjust the knee-pads on her torn jeans.
“Last chance to back down. If Ma sees you hit that ramp, she’ll read you the riot act,” Darcy warns her.
“Pssssh, have you seen the old photos of her on the motorbike? She used to take it to California and do some crazy shit out in the desert.”
“She still does. Doesn’t mean she’s okay with you hitting that ramp on your skateboard. Don’t be a jackass.”
Dani shrugs. “Takes one to know one, sis,” she says with a grin that her sister quickly returns. “Hold my beer.”
Her drink and camera safely in Darcy’s hands, Dani kicks off down the empty lot. She jumps into the pipe, listening to her wheels rumble on the plastic, then gives herself a boost before hitting the ramp. All of a sudden, she’s flying. It’s fucking fantastic. She flips the board once for good measure and lands beautifully, but before she can gloat the chain link fence is upon her.
Right. This is why you don’t put a ramp near a fence. She collides head on, and damn, she thinks, it’s a good thing this fence is pliable. It spits her back out like a catapult, and she lands on her ass on the concrete.
Darcy runs up to her. “Are you alright?” she repeats, taking Dani’s hand and helping her to her feet.
Dani nods shakily. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, that went great for the first trial. Did you catch me eating it on camera?”
How about Lou takes out her wife and kid to a circus date to spend her day off, entirely focusing and pampering her girls.
x.
(I know there are mixed feelings with circuses because of their animal treatment soooo…tweaked with one small swap to a carnival)
“Lou, you know the rule,” Debbie sighed, giving her wife a sideways look that their daughter caught all too easily.
“Come on, Debs,” Lou grinned, taking a wad of cash out of her back pocket as she passed a few of the bills and about a 120% tip to the vendor. “It’s family day. We can make an exception. Besides, I don’t think any of us will be able to stomach an actual dinner after today.”
“Yeah, come on, Debssssss,” Dani stuck her tongue out.
“Hey,” Lou snapped, the severity of her tone only cut by the cotton candy she was passing to her daughter and the oversized stuffed animal around her shoulders. “Not funny, D. That’s your mum.”
“No, you’re my mum,” Dani grinned, snatching the cotton candy from her and wadding a fistful into her mouth. She tried to add another sentence that made the blonde stare at her with wide blue eyes as she passed a hot dog to her wife.
“Come again?”
“She said that I’m mom,” Debbie smirked. “You’re mum. Gotta watch that accent, Aussie.”
“Only a wildebeest who also talks with her mouth full of food could’ve understood that.”
“Who’s your favorite parent now?” Debbie rolled her eyes, tugging Dani to her side before she kissed her head. “Fine. Cotton candy for pseudo dinner it is. Mum’s right. It’s a special day.”
“So I can also have a slurpee on the way home?” Dani yelped, looking between them.
“Can you drink cold blue slime in a sports car?” Debbie asked. “Not again.”
“Yeah,” Lou snorted. “Stay focused on that sticky pink cloud instead.”
Debbie mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to the blonde before turning around to get a stack of napkins.
“I’ll work on her kid,” Lou whispered, sharing a high five with her daughter. “Don’t worry. Just don’t spill it on the seat this time.”
“No promises,” Dani giggled. “Can we do the swings again? Please?”
“Again?” Lou laughed. “Deb? Can you handle that post hot dog?”
“Can we take a carousel break first, honey?” Debbie compromised. “Then we’ll see where we’re at. Unless either of you want to see a hot dog flying through the air.”
“I do! I do!” Dani cheered.
“She’s a monster,” Debbie whispered.
Lou shrugged. “She came out of you, babe.”
Lou took Dani’s hand in one of her own and Debbie’s in the other, smitten with her two brunettes, mouths full of food as they giggled excitedly.
“Tell you what,” Lou smiled down at Dani. “Let’s get you and mom those matching shirts you want, alright? And we’ll see if there’s any way we don’t already own every stuffed animal here. And then, once we’re done shopping, we can watch mom pretend she’s not afraid of sliding out of a flying swing.”
“We told her not to wear heels,” Dani reminded Lou.
“That we did,” the blonde grinned, Debbie reaching around behind Lou to try and smack her, only for the two of them to get tugged ahead towards a stand with giant lollipops, their daughter’s puppy dog eyes and a chorus of “please, please, please”
Hii! I'm always checking first thing in the morning if you posted any prompts coz it sets my mood right away!
I was wondering if you could do one where Debbie calls Lou constantly "Louise" and not her pet name for fun, and Lou asks her offended while the other would just shrug. Then Debbie would soon cut it off. I think it would be cute. Have a good day!
“Louise!”
The blonde’s face soured with disgust at the name, biting her tongue and shaking her head. She had to laugh at her wife. Debbie never ceased to know how to push her buttons. But usually it took a few rounds of Lou not paying attention or being in trouble for things to amount to the use of her full name. But it wasn’t like Debbie had been calling her again and again or she’d done something wrong.
The kitchen was clean. Their bed was made. Dani was off at pre-school. As insane as it seemed, Lou was holed up in their home office, putting together paperwork so they could file their taxes early. Something teenage on-the-run criminal Lou had never imagined would be her forte or nerdy something she may have even enjoyed.
“Louuuuuuuiiiiiiise, baby.”
“Coming!” Lou sang loudly, rolling her eyes as she grumbled a quiet “Deborah,” under her breath.
“Need something, honey?” Lou asked, coming down the steps to find Debbie in the kitchen, palming through the cabinets as if she was looking for something.
“Yeah,” Debbie sighed. “I just can’t remember what it was.”
“You’re looking for something, but you don’t know what you’re looking for?” Lou smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe put your mind off it for a bit and it’ll come to you and then I can help you look for it.”
“Thanks, Louise,” Debbie smiled, kissing the blonde’s cheek before spinning away, heading into the living room.
The blonde’s jaw twitched in irritation, but she tried to brush it off. If anyone could get away with calling her by her given name, it was Debbie, even if it made her want to scream slightly.
“Want to watch a movie or something now that I’m down here?” Lou suggested, sinking into her favorite chair as Debbie curled up on the couch.
“I was just gonna read, actually,” Debbie smiled, waving her book up in the air. “But thanks, Louise. Maybe after dinner?”
There it was again. Lou was grateful that he wife missed her eyeroll, settling back into the chair as she whipped out her phone, scrolling through her texts as she merely sighed at the fifty memes Constance had sent to their group chat even though they had lectured her about what constituted a proper group text a solid dozen times. Facebook was just annoying. Instagram was useless. She couldn’t even be entertained by the comments on Daphne’s latest premiere post from her fan club that was only made up of Daphne herself.
“Louise?” Debbie asked softly. “Could you flick that lamp on over there? Having trouble seeing the pages with the rain making it all dark in here.”
“Yes,” Lou spoke through gritted teeth, smacking the lamp on with a bit more force than was necessary. “It would be my pleasure, Deborah.”
“Thanks, baby,” Debbie winked, before turning back to her book for a moment, Lou saying a silent thank you and a prayer, never more grateful to hear the pet name come from Debbie’s lips.
“Of course, honey,” Lou smiled, slipping her phone in her pocket as she leaned forward to reach for the remote.
“Oh, Louise, that reminds me!”
“That’s it,” Lou exhaled, tossing the remote back down on the coffee table as it rattled for a moment. “Why in the world are you full naming me like that? You know I can’t stand my name.”
Debbie’s face dipped behind her book as she mumbled something that Lou couldn’t make out, standing up to walk over to Debbie, snatching the book out of her hands as Debbie looked up, grinning as she tried to bite back a giggle.
“Six,” Debbie smirked, snatching the book back from Lou as she sat it in her lap smugly.
“Yes, it’s almost six. Did you want to start thinking about dinner, or—“ Lou sighed, scratching at her head.
“No,” Debbie grinned. “Took me six times calling you that before you snapped. Wonder how long you can last next time. You really upped your hame. Last time, it was three. I’m impressed.”
“You were doing it on purpose?” Lou gaped, looking down at her wife, unamused as she crossed her arms.
“Danny used to do it to me,” Debbie shrugged, blowing Lou a kiss. “Wanted to see how long you could last. Always used to drive me crazy.”
“Oh, you drive me crazy alright,” Lou sighed, shaking her head. “You really that bored, love?”
“No,” Debbie grinned. “Why? Something on your mind, Louise?”
can you write something like lou teaching the kids how to ride a bike and debbie literally had a heart attack when she see it.
“Louise Ann Miller!”
“Uh oh,” Dani sang, looking between her two mothers as she grimaced.
“You’re fine, D,” the blonde grinned, kissing the top of her head before she rolled up the sleeves of her jacket, swinging her leg off the bike and strode towards her wife.
Debbie remained on the concrete, arms crossed tight as she looked at her partner with disdain.
“That is not the sort of bike we talked about,” Debbie hissed as Lou got closer to her.
“Missed you too, sweetheart,” Lou chuckled, shaking her head. “And of course it is. She learned to ride a bicycle when she was eight.”
“And that had training wheels!”
“Right,” Lou grinned, nodding her head. “And then, when she got better, we took them off. And riding a bike, has been perfect practice for well…riding a bike.”
“A motorcycle.”
“Yes,” Lou smirked. “I’m familiar. And you’ve always been quite the fan when it comes to me riding one.”
“Lou, she’s fourteen, baby,” Debbie whispered, her face turning to sheer panic. “You’re…”
“In my late fifties?” Lou scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Go ahead and say it. But come on, Deb. Wouldn’t you rather she learn to do it safely with a parent?”
“Yeah,” Debbie sighed. “When she’s forty. Or fifty. Or never, would be even better.”
“Come on, Deb,” Lou teased. “You think it’s sexy when I take you for a ride. Or when I used to be your getaway driver. It’s hot.”
“Not the way to convince me,” Debbie huffed.
“Motherhood has made you a square, Deborah Ocean,” Lou laughed. “Look at her, honey. She’s got a helmet on. And riding leathers.”
“You bought her clothes for this too?” Debbie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“They’re my old ones,” the blonde shrugged.
“They fit her?” Debbie gasped, looking over at Danielle, who was leaning against the bike, laughing at something on her phone. “When did she become this whole small adult?”
“In the blink of an eye,” Lou whispered, leaning against her wife as she wrapped her arms around her. “She’s not our little girl, anymore.”
“Well, she might not be running around in little purple overalls or sitting on your shoulders at concerts, but she’ll always be our little girl,” Debbie smiled. “Just keep her safe, baby. I need my girls to be safe, okay?”
“Oh, she’s not leaving this lot on that bike until she’s eighteen,” Lou promised. “And even then, I’ll probably be riding along for safe keeping.”
“I still don’t like it,” the brunette whispered, leaning against the blonde’s chest as she mumbled against it.
“But you love her.”
“I love her,” Debbie sniffed, nodding against Lou.
“And you love me.”
“I love you.”
“And we’re raising a little badass.”
“Just get her some knee pads. Or elbow pads. Or I don’t know…”
“A suit of armor?” Lou chuckled. “A shield?”
“A whole bubble, please,” Debbie whined, tucking her head under Lou’s own as the blonde chuckled, kissing her forehead.
omg debbie and lou in a simple favour au (but they end up together)
Debbie Ocean had never dreamed of having a child. She’d never even asked for a doll. She was far more fascinated with toy cars and puzzles and logic games. Happily waiting in the doctor’s office as she swung her legs back and forth under the chair with a notepad of Sudoku or even the crossword puzzle from The Times she’d stolen from her father’s spot at the kitchen table.
She never expected to have a child, and she certainly had never imagined having to raise one on her own without much of a warning. But fate had a funny way of working sometimes. Not that she’d call the accident fate at all. It had been the worst day of her entire life. But life was good at bringing you the things you never thought you wanted in the most inconvenient of ways and making you realize that you couldn’t fathom never having wished for it at all. And that was Danielle Ocean. First, her niece. A few years later, a car accident in between, and a hell of an adoption process after, her daughter. It was what Danny and Tess would have wanted and Debbie Ocean let her life be turned upside down completely to make it happen.
And while she’d gotten more than used to the idea of Dani being hers, sharing their favorite things about Danny, and having breakfast for dinner, and helping her brush her hair, she still didn’t think of herself as the perfect mother. Or even a mother at all. But the other moms at school had other thoughts. Debbie just knew that life had dealt Danielle a rough hand and she wanted anything in her control to be completely perfect as possible. And most of the time, that meant saying yes whenever she could.
And this time, Debbie’s yes to a simple playdate with a girl in Danielle’s class would bring her further into the world of the elusive and mysterious Lou Miller and flip her world on its head once more.
“Pleaseeeee, Aunt Deb,” Dani pled, bouncing up and down in her carseat as Debbie chuckled at her reflection in the rearview mirror.
“You’ve already got my yes, love,” Debbie laughed. “But you know the playdate rule, both moms have to say yes, alright?”
“If Stevie’s mom is at drop-off can we ask her?”
“Her name is Stevie?”
“Yeah! Like Stevie Nicks from Big Mac!”
“I mean that’s half right,” Debbie mumbled before she nodded, granting Danielle’s request. “Of course we can ask her. You know, I’ve never heard you talk about Stevie before.”
“She’s new!” Dani smiled, showing Debbie her toothy grin as she zipped her backpack up, noticing Debbie was pulling into the school parking lot. “She used to live with kangaroos!”
“She’s from Australia?” Debbie mused. “Wonder what they’re doing in New York now.”
“You already know, Aunt Deb,” Dani sighed, smacking her face against her cheek as if to prove that Debbie was the most ridiculous person in the world. “You wear lots of clothes.”
“I wear lots of clothes?” Debbie laughed. “Thank you, D. That’s very helpful.”
“You’re welcome!” Dani sang as she giggled, cheering as they parked in a spot. Debbie shook her head with a grin as she got out, carefully buckling the little girl and taking one of her hands and her backpack as she closed and locked the car, walking them across the street. “There she is! That’s Stevie!”
Debbie followed Danielle’s excited pointing finger to a sleek black car where a blonde woman in a dark green, velvet suit was leaning against the side as a miniature blonde spoke excitedly at her, shaking a ziplock bag up and down as the woman chuckled, before checking her watch and calling something to someone inside the car.
Seriously? Debbie thought. Who used a driver to drop their kid off at elementary school?
“I have to be going now, sweetie. But we’ll find her mum after school, alright? I promise.”
“That’s Dani!” The little girl suddenly squealed, pointing to Debbie and Danielle as Dani tugged excitedly at Debbie’s shirt before sprinting towards the black car, the tall woman turning to them with a smirk, aviators sliding onto the bridge of her nose to cover deep blue eyes from the sun as she swiveled, waving with a single posed finger.
“I take it this is Danielle,” the woman chuckled, as Dani darted towards Stevie and the two danced around showing each other their beaded bracelets.
“And the famous Stevie,” Debbie smiled. “Debbie Ocean.”
“Lou Miller.”
“Lou Miller?” Debbie repeated. “Like the Louise Miller who designed my shoes?”
The blonde made a zipper motion across her lips as she smiled.
“What are those? An 8? Want them in another color?” She smirked. “My treat.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Debbie laughed. “But if that’s not a joke, yes, I’m an 8. Actually, I was dragged over here to see if you’d be alright with the girls having a playdate. Maybe this afternoon?”
“Dragged over?” Lou tsked, amused. “I consider myself to be very exciting company, Debbie Ocean.”
“I’m sorry,” Debbie sighed. “I didn’t mean to—“
“Don’t apologize,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “I hate when women apologize. You don’t owe anyone shit.”
“That’s a bad word,” Dani sang.
“You don’t owe anyone…salt?” Lou tried, lower her glasses as she turned to Danielle. “That better, kid?”
“Much better!” Danielle giggled, turning to Stevie.
“I’m not around this afternoon,” Lou frowned, turning back to Debbie. “But I can make some time tomorrow evening. Maybe you two would like to come over for dinner? I make some mean drinks.”
“Oh, I don’t let Dani—“
“For us,” Lou snorted. “Stevie lives off of juice boxes and sprite. Who do you think I am, Debbie?” She laughed, looking amused once more at Debbie’s naivety.
“Yeah, yeah,” Debbie backtracked. “Dinner would be great. Would 6 work?”
“It’s a date,” Lou smirked, waving Stevie over as she hugged the child before pushing her off with Dani as Danielle sent Debbie a small wave before the two ran inside. “Here’s my number,” she murmured, slipping a business card into Debbie’s pocket as the brunette swallowed thickly. “Do you like steak?”
“Oh, Dani doesn’t—“
“Do you like steak, Debbie?” Lou smirked again, one long leg starting to climb into the back of the car and hesitating, her multi-ringed fingers tapping against the car door as she waited.
“One of my favorites,” Debbie nodded.
“I think we deserve better than dinosaur chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese, don’t you?” Lou chuckled, making Debbie’s stomach flip deliriously. “I’ll see you and Dani tomorrow,” she added, climbing into the car and closing the door before Debbie could answer, the dark car speeding away as Debbie stared after it with her mouth hanging open, unsure of what the hell had just happened.
