Leah stopped dead. Julie saw it hit her—the way her eyes went wide, the sharp little gasp. For a heartbeat, Julie thought she'd messed up big time. Then Leah's face just... melted. Like warm honey. A tear rolled down her cheek. "Yeah, " she whispered, voice shaky. "Hell yeah, I'll marry you." Julie's heart damn near exploded. She lunged forward, crashing their mouths together in this messy, desperate kiss—all clashing teeth and too much tongue, but who gives a shit? She poured everything into it—every stupid joke she'd held back, every time she'd chickened out from saying "I love you, " every night she'd laid awake staring at the ceiling wanting this exact thing. Leah kissed her back just as hard, hands framing Julie's face like she was holding something priceless.
They pulled apart reluctantly, breathing hard, foreheads touching. Julie ran her thumb along Leah's jawline, fingers still trembling. "When?" she asked, and the word felt heavy between them. Leah tilted her head, sunlight catching the wet tracks on her face. "After, " she said softly, nodding toward the old farmhouse barely visible through the trees—peeling paint, sagging porch, the whole nine yards. "After we fix that place up. I wanna marry you there. On our dirt." Julie's throat went tight. She could see it—Leah in that doorway, sun in her hair, wearing some simple dress that'd make Julie's knees weak. "Deal, " she croaked, squeezing Leah's hand. "But I ain't waiting till we're old and gray." Leah laughed—this sweet, snorting thing—and leaned into her shoulder. "Wouldn't let you."
Their clothes were strewn everywhere like a tornado hit—Julie's tank top hanging off a bush, Leah's jeans half-sunk in the creek. Julie slogged through the muck, making disgusted noises as mud oozed between her toes. "Your underwear's minnow food, " she declared, holding up Leah's soaked bra like a trophy. Leah rolled her eyes, wringing out her shirt. "You're buying me new ones, " she said. Julie stepped closer, hips bumping. "I'll get you a whole drawer full, " she murmured. "Lacy shit, silky shit—whatever you want." Leah's cheeks went pink, but she didn't look away. "Sounds like you're trying to butter me up." Julie grinned, kissing her temple. "What if I am?"
Their clothes were still wrinkled and damp from earlier—and yeah, Leah wasn't wearing underwear, which Julie kept smirking about—but neither cared as they walked back to the house. Julie swung their joined hands between them, her thumb rubbing lazy circles against Leah's knuckles. The sun was low, stretching their shadows way down the path like stretched taffy. Leah kept sneaking glances at how their silhouettes melted together at the wrists, the shoulders, right where Julie's hip bumped against hers. Like they were one weird, lanky creature. A gust of wind made the oak leaves shiver overhead, splashing light across Julie's freckles. Leah's grip tightened without thinking. "What?" Julie asked, catching her staring with that half-smile of hers. Leah shook her head. "Nothing." Total lie. Julie squeezed her hand like she knew anyway.
Inside the farmhouse—dusty as hell but weirdly full of potential—they flopped onto the sagging couch. Julie sprawled out, dropping her head into Leah's lap with a satisfied sigh. Leah's fingers automatically went to her hair, combing through the still-damp strands. Out of nowhere, Julie asked, "Would we both wear dresses if we got married?" Leah paused mid-stroke. "You want to?" Julie grinned up at her. "Nah. Me in a suit, you in some ridiculous poofy nightmare." Leah flicked her forehead. "You'd rock a suit, " she admitted after a beat, feeling her ears heat up. "Like one of those old-timey guys with the pocket watches." Julie laughed so hard Leah felt it in her thighs. "And you'd be my delicate little bride?" Leah rolled her eyes but couldn't stop smiling. "In your dreams."
Julie twisted around suddenly, chin digging into Leah's knee. "What about last names?" Leah's fingers froze. She hadn't seen that coming. "I—" Her pulse jumped. "I like Cohen. But if you wanted—" Julie cut her off with a squeeze to her leg. "Cohen-Smith doesn't suck, " she said casually, watching Leah's face. Leah's breath caught, her grip tightening in Julie's hair. "Seriously?" Julie shrugged, trying too hard to play it cool. "Sure. Though—" Her grin turned wicked. "Leah Cohen-Smith sounds like you'd write books about murderous queens or some shit." Leah snorted. "And Julie Cohen-Smith?" Julie's thumb drew circles on her knee. "Obviously the hot farmer who seduced the nerdy author."
Julie flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "We gotta get this house shit sorted, " she muttered. Leah followed her gaze, taking in the cracked plaster and water stains. "Yeah, " she sighed. Julie snatched her phone off the coffee table, tapping away. "Let's see who's around, " she said, scrolling fast. Leah watched as Julie's face scrunched up in concentration. Then—bam—she sat up straight. "Travis Scott Construction, " she read out loud. Leah blinked. "Wait, Travis like—" Julie nodded. "Bar Travis." Before Leah could say shit, Julie was already calling, putting it on speaker. Two rings. Then that slow, familiar voice: "Travis Scott Construction." Julie smirked. "Need someone to fix our porch, check the roof, mend the fences." A beat. Then: "We can handle that." Julie's grin grew. "This the same Travis from O'Malley's last night?"
Silence. Long enough that Leah could practically see Travis realizing who he was talking to—that moment when it clicks. Finally, he exhaled hard. "Julie." Flat. Unamused. Julie kicked her feet up on the couch, playing with Leah's hair. "Small fucking world, huh?" Another pause. Then, grudging: "You serious about this work?" Julie stopped fiddling with Leah's hair. "Deadass." A rustle—Travis adjusting the phone. "Fine. I'll swing by tomorrow." Julie raised an eyebrow. "Bring Ben, " she tossed in, casual as anything. Leah tensed—but Travis just gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, alright." Click. Julie tossed her phone aside, turning to Leah with a shit-eating grin. "Well?" Leah swallowed. "That was—" "Perfect, " Julie finished. She leaned in, kissing Leah's temple. "Trust me."
Leah picked at a loose thread on her sleeve—nervous habit. "I do like them, " she admitted quietly. "But you really think they won't... you know." Julie snorted. "Babe, after last night?" She waved toward the door like the bar was right outside. "They know we're together." Leah bit her lip. "But—" Julie cut her off with a look. "Trust me, " she repeated, softer. "They'll show up with tools, not pickup lines." Leah let out a slow breath, nodding. Julie squeezed her hand. "Besides, " she added, grinning, "let 'em try." Leah rolled her eyes—but some of the tension left her shoulders.
Julie stretched, her tank top riding up just enough to show the edge of her waistband. "Speaking of..." she muttered, standing suddenly. She shot Leah a grin—the kind that made Leah's stomach flip—before turning toward the stairs. "Come on, " she said, voice low, and yanked her top off in one smooth move. The fabric dropped away, sunlight catching her bare back as she vanished upstairs. Leah's throat went dry. The unspoken dare hung between them. Her fingers still tingled where Julie had touched her. The old stairs creaked under her socks as she followed, the sound too loud in the quiet house.
At the bedroom door, hinges whining, Leah stopped. Inside, Julie crouched by a half-open box, freckled shoulders tense. Light slanted through the blinds, streaking her skin. She dug through bubble wrap and crumpled paper before pulling out something pink with a victorious "Got it!" Leah stared, slow to recognize the shape until Julie turned, grinning like a cat with a mouse. The strap-on swung from her fingers, still glossy from storage. "Remember our bet?" Julie said, voice thick as she ran a finger down its length. Leah's breath caught, thighs pressing together on instinct. Julie's smirk widened, eyes dark. "You still owe me for the pond thing."
Leah swallowed hard, already tugging at her shirt. Julie watched, silent, as she peeled it off, skin flushing under her gaze. The air buzzed between them as Leah unhooked her bra, let it drop, then kicked free of her jeans. Julie matched her, slow and deliberate, until they stood naked, close enough to feel each other's heat. Julie stepped in, hips brushing Leah's as she fastened the harness straps with quick fingers. The leather groaned as she adjusted it, giving a testing pull that sent Leah's pulse racing. "Still nervous?" Julie whispered against her jaw, hand sliding over her own breast, pinching hard. Leah whimpered, legs shaky, but Julie caught her, grip firm on her lower back. "Good, " Julie breathed, lips brushing Leah's temple before pulling away, the distance suddenly too much.
Julie's fingers trailed lazily down Leah's ribs, teasing her skin with slow, deliberate strokes. When she circled Leah's nipple—already hard—she pinched just hard enough to make Leah gasp and arch against her. Julie smirked, rolling the stiff peak between her fingers, watching Leah's face twist in pleasure—mouth falling open, chest rising fast. "That's my girl, " Julie murmured, voice rough, as she nipped Leah's collarbone. Her other hand slid lower, fingers brushing the heat between Leah's thighs. "Love how wet you get for me."
Leah shuddered, hips jerking up, chasing Julie’s touch—but Julie pulled back with a quiet laugh, guiding her onto the bed instead. She spread Leah’s legs wide, touch firm, no hesitation. Leah’s breath hitched as Julie knelt between her thighs, eyes dark with hunger. She lined the toy up, pressing in slow—so damn slow—until Leah’s back arched, fingers clawing at the sheets, a ragged moan tearing from her throat.
Julie paused, fingers digging into Leah’s hips, breathing uneven as she watched her—the flush spreading across Leah’s chest, the way her throat worked, lips parted and wet. When Julie pulled out—almost completely—then thrust back in hard, Leah cried out, legs wrapping tight around her waist, nails biting into Julie’s arms. Leah moved with her, hips rising to meet each thrust, breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Julie reached up, twisting Leah’s nipple just shy of too much, voice rough against her ear—"That’s it, take it." Leah whimpered, body jerking, words breaking—"Oh god—" Julie growled, teeth scraping Leah’s jaw, thrusts relentless. "Fuck, you feel so good—"
Leah came with a cry, back bowing, thighs shaking, fingers dragging down Julie’s back. "Don’t stop—please—" Julie groaned, her own climax hitting hard, hips stuttering, grip bruising. She collapsed against Leah, pulse wild, skin damp, breath hot against her neck.
After a long moment, Julie laughed softly, fingers still tangled in Leah’s hair. "Fuck."
Leah melted into the mattress beneath Julie, her body loose and heavy, her breathing slow and even. Her skin was warm, lips slightly parted, lashes fluttering as she floated in that perfect afterglow haze. Julie shifted, sinking them both deeper into the sheets, her lips grazing Leah's temple. "Still with me?" she murmured, breath tickling Leah's skin.
Leah responded with a quiet hum, fingers lazily tracing the dip of Julie's spine. "Mhm."
Julie chuckled, nuzzling against her cheek before carding gentle fingers through her hair. "Good, " she whispered, like it was something sacred.
Rolling onto her side, Julie draped an arm over Leah's waist, fingertips doodling nonsense patterns against bare skin. A smirk played at her lips, eyes dark with mischief. "Maybe someday—"
Leah turned her head, eyebrow quirking. Her pulse jumped despite herself. "Someday what?"
Julie's grin turned sharp, fingers tightening possessively as she leaned in, her whisper scorching against Leah's ear: "We'll test out your ass with this."
Leah went rigid, face burning. "I—I don't think my ass could handle that, " she choked out, half-laughing, half-breathless.
Julie thumbed the curve of her hip, amused. "But?"
Leah swallowed, twisting the sheets in her fists. "But... maybe you might wanna try it yourself first."
Julie nipped at her earlobe, voice dropping to gravel. "I'll try anything at least once with you, lover."
Leah exhaled, tension bleeding away as her lips curved. "Promise?"
Julie laughed softly, forehead resting against hers. "Promise."
Leah traced idle circles along Julie's collarbone, hesitating. "Even if it's—"
Julie cut her off with a brush of lips. "Even if it's terrifying."
Leah's throat tightened. "Even if I panic?"
Julie's thumb swept over her cheekbone, certain as sunrise. "Especially then."
Leah's breath caught, eyes prickling. "Julie—"
Julie kissed her—deep, unhurried—cradling her face like something precious. "I've got you, " she murmured against her lips. "Always."
Julie pulled back, scanning Leah's face with a playful glint in her eyes. "Besides—" she started, voice light.
Leah arched a brow, lips twitching. "Besides what?"
Julie's grin widened as her fingers trailed down Leah's ribs. "You'd look adorable with that thing strapped on."
Leah groaned, her head thumping against the couch. "Oh my god."
Julie chuckled against Leah's shoulder, teeth grazing skin. "Admit it—you're imagining it."
"I am not, " Leah huffed, arms crossing.
Julie's fingers slid lower, barely touching. "Liar."
A shiver ran through Leah. "Okay... maybe a little."
Julie laughed, triumphant. "Knew it."
Leah exhaled, fingers curling into fists. "You'd... really let me?"
Julie stilled, thumb brushing Leah's hip. "Try anything. Remember?"
Leah swallowed hard. "Even if I'm—"
Julie cut her off with a kiss to her temple. "Even if you're nervous."
Leah's breath hitched. "Julie—"
Julie kissed her slow and deep, hands framing Leah's face like something precious. "Always."
— --
The kitchen smelled like rosemary and slightly burnt garlic. Julie stirred the pot barefoot, her hips swaying to the crackly country song playing from Leah's phone.
Leah watched from the counter, elbows propped up, chin in her hands. Her eyes traced the flex of Julie's shoulders, the way her damp hair stuck to her neck, loose strands escaping her messy bun.
Julie glanced back, green eyes crinkling. "Staring."
Leah flushed. "Am not."
Julie laughed, wooden spoon dripping sauce. "Liar."
Leah crossed her arms. "Fine. Maybe just a little."
Julie spun around, her hips bumping into Leah's, fingers skimming up Leah's bare ribs. Her voice was rough, low. "Admit it. You're picturing me bent over this counter." Leah choked, knees going weak, face burning. "Oh my god, " she managed, voice cracking.
Julie grinned, sharp and victorious, pinching Leah's hip. "Knew it." Leah groaned, forehead dropping against Julie's collarbone. "You're impossible." Julie hummed, lips brushing Leah's temple. "Yours."
The kiss started slow—Julie's fingers tangled in Leah's hair, Leah's hands gripping her waist, bodies pressing closer, hot, desperate. Julie's tongue traced Leah's bottom lip, and Leah's breath hitched, fingers digging in. Julie pulled back just enough, voice rough. "Dinner's burning."
Leah whined, hips jerking. "Fuck dinner."
Julie laughed, nipping Leah's jaw. "Language."
"You're evil."
"Yep, " Julie said, smirking, fingers trailing down Leah's spine before she turned away, hips swaying as she crossed the creaky kitchen floor toward the stove. "Stir this, " she tossed over her shoulder, voice light.
Leah sighed, wrapping her fingers around the wooden spoon, gaze drifting—Julie's freckles, the curve of her shoulders, the dip of her hips—
Julie chuckled, low and knowing. "Eyes up, chef."
"I am, " Leah lied, grip tightening.
Julie snorted, bumping Leah with her elbow. "Liar."
The spoon hit the bowl harder than Leah meant to, making that sharp clatter that always makes you cringe. She gripped the handle tighter as Julie looked up from her pasta—the cheap kind that reeks of garlic and bad decisions. "Shit, sorry, " Leah muttered, catching a blotch of sauce near Julie's collarbone. For half a second, she actually thought about licking it off.
Julie swiped her mouth with her hand and grinned at Leah's disgusted face. "You're cute when you're silently roasting me." She stretched, back arching, and Leah's fork slipped. A chunk of eggplant landed right in her lap. "Jesus. You're a hazard."
"Only on purpose, " Julie said, low, watching Leah scrub at the stain with a napkin. Her fingers twitched—she could've reached out, touched that spot just above Leah's knee—but she grabbed plates instead. The kitchen was tiny, so they kept bumping hips, moving around each other like they'd done this a hundred times. Leah attacked a pot with way too much energy while Julie leaned on the counter, arms folded. "Missed a spot, " she lied, just to see Leah's back stiffen.
Leah flicked soapy water at her. "Bullshit." Her voice came out shaky, especially when Julie caught her wrist, thumb rubbing over those fine bones. Water dripped between them, sinking into the old floorboards. For one endless second, Leah thought Julie might kiss her—right there with the wet sponge still in her hand—but Julie just smirked and let go, tossing the towel over her shoulder like she'd won something.
They didn't even need to discuss it—both just sort of gravitated toward the couch at the same time. Julie flopped down, kicking her bare feet up on the coffee table, while Leah tucked herself into the corner with some dog-eared paperback she'd read a dozen times before. The record player was spinning some folky thing Julie loved, the kind where you could practically hear the singer's cigarette rasp between verses. Leah held her book open but wasn't really reading, too distracted by the way Julie's fingers kept tapping against her own thigh to the rhythm. Each little tap sent a jolt through her.
"Bullshit, " Julie said out of nowhere, reaching over to flip Leah's book upside down. "You've been on the same damn page for like ten minutes." She snatched the book away and tossed it aside like it offended her, then swung a leg over Leah's lap like it was nothing. The sudden weight made Leah suck in a breath, her hands automatically grabbing Julie's hips to steady herself. "Just admit it, " Julie murmured, her tongue tracing the curve of Leah's ear in a way that made her shiver. "You'd rather be looking at me."
Leah swallowed hard. The record hit a part where the singer's voice broke on a high note—kinda rough, kinda real—and it matched the way Julie's teeth scraped against her neck just then. "I *was* reading, " Leah lied, even as her fingers twisted tighter in Julie's hair. They fit together like this, Julie's weight pressing her deeper into the couch, the smell of her shampoo mixed with sweat filling the space between them.
Leah swallowed hard, her throat making that weird click she always hated. The record hit that one track where the singer's voice breaks on the high note—messy, real—just like the way Julie's teeth dragged against her neck. "I was reading, " Leah lied, not even convincing herself, her fingers curling tighter in Julie's hair. They melted together like this, Julie's body warm and heavy against her, pushing her deeper into the couch, the smell of rosemary shampoo and summer sweat sticking to both of them.
Leah yawned so wide her jaw popped—the kind of sound that always made Julie smirk and say something dumb like "getting old, huh?"—but before she could hide it against her own shoulder, Julie was already grinning, tugging at her sweater. "Giving up already?" Julie's thumb brushed that stupidly ticklish spot under Leah's ribs, and she jerked, exhaustion wiped out in a second by the familiar spark of Julie's touch, the way her hands never bothered asking permission first.
Leah's yawn turned into a breathy laugh as Julie's fingers drifted lower, teasing the edge of her waistband slow enough to be annoying. The book was face-down on the floor now, pages bent. The record had stopped ages ago, leaving nothing but the quiet of the countryside—a coyote howling somewhere far off, the lazy whisper of wind—but here, in the half-light of that one lamp Julie always forgot to turn off, everything else faded. Just Julie's thighs pressing into hers, the hitch in Julie's breath when Leah dragged her nails down her back.
The coyote’s cry faded into the night just as Julie stood, grabbing Leah by the frayed edge of her sweater and pulling her up. Leah let herself be dragged forward, her bare feet scuffing over the warped floorboards—the ones Julie kept promising they’d fix next summer—until they were close enough in the dim hallway that Leah could feel Julie’s breath on her neck. Julie’s thumb skimmed the sharp angle of Leah’s jaw, pausing where she could feel Leah’s pulse racing, and it hit Leah then: this wasn’t just about falling into bed. Julie was taking her somewhere slower, more intentional, where clothes would come off deliberately, not in some desperate rush.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind them, the sound muffled by the heavy quiet of the house at night. Julie’s fingers hooked under the hem of Leah’s sweater first, lifting it inch by inch, her knuckles dragging lightly over Leah’s stomach as the fabric slid away. Leah shivered—not from cold, but from the way Julie’s eyes roamed over every bit of bare skin like she was trying to memorize it. Leah’s hands weren’t much steadier as she returned the favor, working the buttons of Julie’s flannel with fingers that only hesitated a little, each undone button revealing freckled shoulders and collarbones she knew better than her own.
Julie shrugged the flannel off, letting it drop around her waist, the faded red and gold fabric bunching against her hips. Leah exhaled sharply as she traced the familiar scatter of freckles there—the same ones she’d kissed last summer when the attic fan died and they’d stuck to each other in the heat. Julie’s fingers tangled in Leah’s hair, nails scratching lightly at her scalp just the way she liked. “Still looking, ” Julie teased, though she didn’t stop Leah’s wandering hands, her own gaze dark as she watched Leah’s fingers trail down her ribs. The old bed creaked under their weight as they sank into the mess of blankets, legs twisting together like they always did.
Julie's fingers traced Leah's ribs like she'd done it a hundred times before—hesitating just long enough to feel Leah's breath catch before moving lower. Leah's hands fumbled in response, nowhere near as smooth as Julie's but just as eager, her fingers shaking as they slid between Julie's thighs. The room was quiet, but not empty—just filled with the sound of fabric shifting, their heavy breathing, and the tiny gasp Julie made when Leah's thumb brushed that spot high on her thigh. Leah watched, mesmerized, as Julie's eyes darkened—her own body pressing into Julie's touch like she was starving for it—while her fingers curled just right, making Julie's hips jerk forward before she could stop herself.
This wasn't the kind of quiet where you forget someone's there. It was the heavy, loaded kind where every sound matters—Leah's fingers moving with that mix of confidence and hesitation she always had, like she was memorizing Julie all over again. Julie exhaled sharply, her hand sliding under Leah's waistband slow enough to make it torture, her thumb rubbing circles into that spot above Leah's hip that always made her twitch. They weren't in any hurry, just moving together in this lazy, perfect rhythm where every touch said more than words ever could. Leah never looked away, her eyes bright in the lamplight, showing everything she couldn't say out loud.
Then something shifted—no more slow teasing, just heat and want taking over. Julie's fingers pressed deeper, her palm firm against Leah as her thumb worked in quick, tight circles. Leah gasped, her rhythm faltering for half a second before she caught up, her fingers sliding easier now. This wasn't about winning; it was about giving each other everything, wordless and desperate in the dark.
Leah's grip tightened on Julie's hip as Julie pressed down harder, the heel of her hand working Leah just right. That sharp little gasp Julie made—close enough that Leah could feel it against her lips—sent heat curling low in her belly. Everything else faded away except Julie's thighs squeezing around her wrist, the way Julie's eyes went dark, their breathing ragged between them. Then that familiar pressure built until Leah couldn't hold back anymore, coming apart with Julie's name on her lips, shaking through it with her forehead pressed to Julie's shoulder, trying to catch her breath.
After, they lay tangled together, still humming with it. Leah could feel Julie's pulse slowing under her fingers, skin warm and damp where their legs stayed intertwined. She let out a shaky breath, holding onto Julie like she might disappear. Julie's slow exhales ghosted over her collarbone, saying more than words ever could. In the dim light, Leah pressed her mouth to the nape of Julie's neck, tasting sweat and that hint of rosemary from whatever Julie had cooked earlier.
The quiet wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, heavy with all the things they didn't need to say. Leah traced lazy circles down Julie's spine, knowing every dip by heart, while Julie's steady breathing warmed her throat. Their legs stayed hopelessly knotted together, Julie's knee fitting between Leah's thighs like it belonged there. The lamp cast long shadows across the bed, catching the sweat at the small of Julie's back, the curve of Leah's collarbone when she turned to bury her face in Julie's hair.
Julie's arm draped over Leah's waist, anchoring her. Leah breathed deep, smiling to herself when Julie's uneven puffs of air hit her neck—the usual stubborn fight against sleep. She pressed back lightly, feeling Julie's hips shift against hers in sleepy protest, until Julie's wandering fingers finally stilled against Leah's stomach, possessive even half-asleep. The last thing Leah registered before drifting off was Julie's hand settling over that old scar on her hip, like always, like home.