FREENBECKY ONE SHOTS

Better love hard (18+)

Freen mumbles a few grateful words to her manager before getting out of the car.

She's exhausted. She at least had the vision of exchanging a pair of killer high heels for her comfiest sneakers just before the plane ride. Now, she grants herself the benefit of swaying lazily from one feet to the other, leisurely making her way back inside her home.

It's been a lot. Almost one month of chaotic promotions abroad, show after show, event after event, and both her body and mind are currently begging for some well-deserved rest.

She opens the door carefully, mindful of the time. The moon has been shining spotlessly for long by now, and Freen knows, just by the immediate silence he finds in the living room, that her cats must be all spread out throughout the house, snoring after a day of jumping on one another.

Then, she steps further into the hall and makes a pause. Her ears catch the sound of muffled pop music rumbling from the kitchen, mixed with the velvety tones of a smooth, sweet voice.

Freen's heart grows three sizes in her chest and a rush of pure joy brings a dizzy smile in her face. Out of all the things she missed from the comfort of her routine, her girlfriend stands out as the one she craved the most.

A new wave of energy tingles through her limbs just by the prospect of having the brunette pressed into her arms. In a rush, Freen moves to the kitchen, her pulse already quickening under her skin.

She makes a full pause just by the kitchen door, her doe stare growing immediately gassy at the sight before her.

Becky is mindlessly working on the stove, softly swaying her hips as she hums along the rhythm of the upbeat music. Her hair falls in shiny, natural waves until her mid-back, just some inches after the end of her worn off crop top. The warm lights hanging above her moving figure hit her just in the right places, creating bright spots and caves of shadows that make Freen's breath hitch in disbelief.

But most importantly, the rest of the outfit. The heating system of the house allows the brunette to keep it light, merely choosing a pair of tight boxers to attempt to cover just barely half of her curves. Freen needs to make the actual physical effort of not drooling out of honest craving. Proudly, in bold black letters contrasting to stark white, the boxer's band sings her birth name, again and again.

The blonde does not wait any longer. The slight tickle of a possessive emotion puts her into motion, finally, finally letting herself be noticed by her girl.

"Well, isn't this a lovely sight to come back home to?"

Becky turns around first in a startle but then letting a grin spread open and wide in her stunned face.

Freen scoots her into her embrace with delicacy.

"Oh my god! You are back!", the brunette squeals, letting her lean arms wrap themselves around Freen's neck. She needs to tiptoe slightly, and the small gesture makes the blonde tighten her grip out of pure adoration.

"I'm back", she answers simply, both to her girlfriend and to herself. A sweet, enchanting scent overwhelms her senses and Freen can't help but to let her nose run through the brunette's neck.

Becky sighs, her shoulders visible relaxing. The long distance took a toll on her, too.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I'd be over. It's just- I missed you so much... oh".

Her speech is cut short by the striking sensation of her girlfriend pressing open-mouthed kisses against her throat. Becky leaves her mouth hanging open, blissed out.

"I love you", Freen mutters, her mouth still burning against the shorter girl's skin, "I love you here. I love this. I love you like this", she whispers finally, her long fingers itching down to grasp Becky's ass.