or: the one where cassie discovers your secret double life

cw: age gap as always (r is in her early 20s, cassie is in her early 40s), prodigy!reader cuz she’s based off of victoria, she’s the closest pitt character to me in age and i love mcvadi so sue me, pornstar!reader, reader makes homemade porn and uploads it on the internet, porn w/ some plot, reader has genital piercings, med student!reader, mentor!cassie, cassie needs to get laid, masturbation, dom!top!cassie, sub!bottom!reader, brat!reader, praise, heavy degradation ig?? idk it’s not that bad to me, filming a sextape, overuse of god/jesus christ even though i’m not a christian and never have been, it’s used blasphemously anyway so, very mild pussy eating (r!receiving), scissoring, slapping (r!receiving), spit (r!receiving), mean dom!cassie, daddy kink, anal (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), edging (r!receiving), use of nipple clamps, use of butt plug, use of vibrator, fem!reader, femme!reader, butch!cassie, use of strap (r!receiving), rough sex, teasing, brat tamer!cassie, slight jealousy, kinda ooc!cassie cuz i was thinking with my pussy not my brain, improper use of medical equipment a little (it’s those damn gloves), cassie grits her teeth a lot sorry, overused the em dash u can pry that from my cold dead hands, i think there’s more i need to add but i forgot, squirting but it’s not explicitly mentioned, ik nothing about medicine or cameras, it’s not a totally accurate portrayal of pornography either i was just horny, reader has implied parental issues, longest piece i’ve written here so far and not proofread cuz i’m tired but i’ll probs go back to edit it if needed, i kinda feel like it got sloppy towards the end

Life’s a bitch. That’s the motto everybody lives by, whether they know it or not. 

It was your favourite motto, because it was the truth. Plain and simple. And it spoke to you all the time, especially when your parents decided that cutting you off financially was the best way to punish you for going to a warehouse rave in exchange for failing the shit out of your neurology final. 

It wasn’t the end of the world, really. Your professor was kind enough to offer you one, last chance through a make-up test. However, that didn’t make your mother back down from her decision— in fact, it solidified it somehow. Now, you were cut off permanently.

At that moment, you only had one month to get your shit together and find a suitable side hustle, before your rent (which your parents covered from abroad) was due. One month where you were a brooding nightmare to everyone at the PTMC, all snappy with an unbudging scowl. You went through a painful number of job offerings, but nothing was simultaneously flexible and supportive enough. Until a friend of yours introduced you to a friend of a friend—a friend of a friend who specialized in a certain kind of…cinematography. 

You didn’t have shit against sex workers of any kind— you just never considered becoming one part-time until that minute in your life. Thinking about it, what was the harm? It was surely better than any other side gig you found online. It payed decently, the woman behind the camera— Misty— expected only 15% of what you made per video, and you were comfortable enough in your own skin to show it off. And if the school found out? They can’t really do anything, can they? You’re in your final year of med school, and this is something completely separate from your academic life. Theoretically, they’d have no right to chastise you or even expel you over this. 

The first video was fairly tame. Done in the comfort of your own bedroom, Misty just filmed you doing a seductive striptease with a bunch of self-groping…maybe even a few rubs on your clit and dips of your fingers into your warm hole, but that was it. And you made an easy 300 bucks overnight. It turns out that the genital piercings you impulsively got on your 19th birthday paid off (literally), because they were the main subject of your audience’s adoration. 

Of course, fondling yourself later escalated to using toys and masterfully talking dirty to the camera lens (which you definitely needed to tune yourself out for in order to numb the embarrassment). It was all solo work, since you didn’t really have the time between your shifts at the ED to find someone willing to fuck you on camera— Misty would sometimes prop the camera and pound you hard for a video, but she avoided doing that frequently. It was only when your devoted fans got tired of the same old and you needed the big bucks. 

Ultimately, what you were doing worked. Your bank account was filling up, your credit score went from mediocre to great…and most importantly, nobody at work knew what you were doing— mainly because you made sure you were uploading strictly on underground porn sites. Even with the limited exposure, the revenue generated from your videos bought you a relatively comfortable life in your tiny apartment, with your bills always paid and the occasional luxury to dine at your favourite sushi place afforded. 

You were so confident nobody in your work life would find out— who had the drive to watch porn after a horrifying shift at the PTMC, anyway? Let alone, visit the relatively niche websites you dominated and find you debasing yourself for their viewing pleasure?

Clearly, that was a moment of baffling ignorance on your behalf. Because you were mortifyingly wrong. 

There was someone who would— did— find the scantily-clad skeleton in your closet. Someone who has been complaining about their dead and buried sex life for a whole week now. 

Dr. Cassandra McKay.

“Shit!” 

Thankfully, her hiss of frustration fell on deaf ears. Harrison was fast asleep in his lego-littered room (which she told him to tidy up twice), undoubtedly exhausted after a long evening of shoving his iPad in her face to show her memes she’ll never understand in a million years— not to mention his insistence on pestering her while she cooked up a hearty dinner of spaghetti and meatballs for the both of them. But she wasn’t complaining about him; she loved her son more than anything in this world, and she’s always grateful for every minute she gets to spend with him. 

No, she’s irritated because she’s horny.

She’s irritated because she’s been horny for a while, but was never fully aware of said horniness until very recently. So now, at the grown age of 43, she feels like a nymphomaniacal teenager again. 

She didn’t even know people her age still felt that way— well, she knew they got riled up, but not this riled up. This was borderline pathetic, even for her. 

What her lips just released into the confined space of her bedroom was the result of a failure. A failure to get herself off with her fingers like a normal person. She would’ve used that magic wand that’s been gathering dust for the past year, but she was pretty sure the battery was fried. Her frustration was climbing the ranks with each passing second, until she realized she had no other option but the inevitable. 

“Fuck me,” Cassie groaned quietly, grabbing her decade-old laptop from where she left it on the other corner of her queen-sized bed. This was utterly humiliating for her— which was funny because she was the only person in the room right now. But seriously? She had to rely on porn to get off, like some hormonal adolescent? She did not have the physical or mental energy to go out into the streets and find a strip club to relieve herself in…even if she did, she couldn’t risk Harrison waking up to an empty flat (or even worse…). 

Well, she’s a grown woman. Any judgments her mind was conjuring up were mere projections of a patriarchal society, right? Here, in the dark of her room, no hawkish eyes or narrow minds can get to her. 

McKay sighed, and began to navigate the web for what she needed— it’s what it’s for, no? 

God, she hated Pornhub. That site was the breeding ground for too many, male-centered sexual rhetorics. She didn’t even know how anyone could get off to hollow moans and faked orgasms, and don’t even get her started on the themes and categories…

Okay, something else then. She wanted to go wherever the real shit was, something that was authentic enough to be the right outlet. For 15 minutes, Cassie went down a rabbit hole of X-rated URLs…until she ended up on a site named “Erotica”. Bit of a plain name for a pornography website, if you ask her, but whatever. She scrolls through the most popular videos it housed until…

Her breathing pauses for a few seconds as she stared at the glowing screen. 

You.

Her med student. Her mentee. The same, young woman she guides through gruesome procedures and writes evaluations for. 

Holy shit.

Unlike her ex-husband, Cassie was not a coward. She can hold herself accountable for her thoughts about you. The overwhelming, depraved thoughts that centered you as their lead; they’ve been rampant and unrelenting these past few weeks. Every strut of your body past hers was noted, with her eyes spotlighting the curve of your ass as you walked by. What you wore to work— scrubs and a black undershirt— was not made for the purpose of flattery. Yet somehow, to her, you were the only person who looked objectively hot in them. She would look at your fully-covered tits, and then that would turn into fantasizing about bending you over the triage desk, fucking you senseless with her strap in front of everybody, forcing lewd sounds from your larynx as she debased you in front of an audience full of familiar faces…Jesus, Cassie, she’d berate herself. What the fuck are you doing?

However, it seems she had to look no further now, because that was exactly what you were doing on her screen right now. 

Your stunning face, the one she saw everyday and committed to memory like a tortured artist with a muse, was making the most lewd faces at the camera as a symphony of moans and desperate, dirty words was sung by your parted lips. Toned arms kept your upper body supported, acting as pillars behind which your naked, pierced breasts bounced hypnotically to the rhythm of a woman’s consistent thrusts. Cassie couldn’t see the aforementioned woman’s face as it was well out of frame, but what she could see was you getting plowed from behind in mediocre quality, mewls and pleas for “harder” coming out mildly crackly from her speakers. 

This was certainly not how she imagined seeing your naked body for the first time. 

Your gorgeous, naked body, apparently bedazzled with erogenous piercings. Your nipples, your belly button, your pussy— fuck, your pussy. It was a work of art, decorated with what she recognized were Christina and VCH piercings (she only knew them by name because of her former college friend, who got them done right in front of her very eyes as a drunken dare). A bejeweled mons pubis and an equally sparkly clit glinted as the unknown woman maneuvered you onto your side, lifting your left leg over her shoulder as she continued plunging the strap into your sopping pussy. Cassie wanted to feel livid with envy, she really did…but the visual of your ass jiggling as you fucked yourself back on the silicone dick, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you arched, was too distracting. 

For a moment, she was worried someone leaked this and put it online— until she saw that the account posting it had your cheeky expression as its profile picture, with your name warped into a clever user. Daringly, she clicked on it…only to find a ton more videos of your writhing body, all shot in the same setting. This was intentional. This was your job. 

Part of her couldn’t blame you. The yearly cost of med school was that of a resident’s average salary. She didn’t even know you paid your own tuition, always under the assumption that your parents did. But Jesus, of all side hustles…Cassie was not by any means conservative. She respected the shit out of sex workers, and always tipped the strippers extra whenever she went to Purgatory. However, an irrational part of her felt bitter. Why did this have to be how she saw your naked body for the first time? The sounds you make when you have your pussy stuffed, the sinful body language…in every bedroom fantasy she ever had starring you, she was the sole enjoyer of these things. Not your 30 thousand subscribers, indubitably all old men. 

And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.

She clicked on another video. It was you riding the shit out of a red dildo suctioned securely to the floor of your bedroom, tweaking your pierced nipples and talking lustily to the camera lens. 

“Bet you wish this was you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” She found herself whispering, like you were personally reaching beyond the screen and speaking to her. “So fucking much…you don’t even know…”

Your words were followed by another, loud moan as you sank down to the base, your sparkling cunt squelching as it swallowed the phallic object. Whoever was behind the camera moved it closer, giving McKay a better view of your spread thighs and stretching pussy. It was wrong. So, so wrong. If Chad’s a dirtbag for going after a 24-year-old woman, then what does that make her— lusting viscerally over her comparably younger mentee, whom she was twice her senior? The heavy guilt sitting on her shoulders should’ve been sufficient in getting her to delete her tabs and forgetting she ever saw this. 

But she couldn’t get enough.

Another one. You being taken from behind again by what looked like the same, no-faced woman, the camera held up in front of a full-length mirror by one hand while the other came down on your ass as you mewled. 

”Fuck, it’s so big…”

“I know, baby,” She breathed. Suddenly, it wasn’t a mystery body fucking yours, but hers. “I know…”

Cassie ended up going through half your entire videography, and didn’t realize she had her hand down her sweatpants the entire time until she was leaking all over it in what was her first orgasm in a month. Probably the hardest in a while too, because her head was pleasantly fuzzy and your moans sounded like they were underwater for a good 2 minutes. Jesus, fuck. 

She’s never been happier about having stained boxers than she was right now. A disgusting part of her wanted to keep them that way; let her arousal dry into a pale crust on the crotch, keep them as a token of her first sense of real relief in ages. She was almost sad as she tossed them in the laundry basket, staring down as they crumpled miserably onto the surface of the pile. 

This wasn’t her doing. This was yours. You and your sexy, fucking (literally) videos. You made her feel like she was 16 in 1999 again, discovering lesbian porn for the first time and eagerly stealing multiple VHS tapes from the adult video store south of her childhood home. 

Fuck HR, fuck Chad, and especially fuck her guilt.

She needed to find a way to thank you.

“Dislocated shoulder in North 5!” 

“On it!” 

You grabbed your chart and began heading towards the trauma bay, nodding towards Dana gratefully. You were in a relatively good mood today, despite the unrelenting chaos of the ER; the video you uploaded a few days ago has earned you a little over a thousand dollars, and you decided you wanted to treat yourself this time and go on an online shopping spree after work (you were always too tired for the mall). On your way to the injured patient, you almost stumbled backwards at the sudden appearance of a body in front of you. 

“Shit!” You yelped, then smiled sheepishly when you realized it was none other than your mentor and subject of your dreams at night. 

“You goin’ to North 5?” A pair of smirking lips mused. 

“Yeah…sorry about that, Dr. McKay. I was in a rush.”

“No need for that at the moment,” She remarked, grinning as she began to walk by your side. “A dislocated shoulder is a cakewalk in comparison to the other cases you had to work on.” 

“I guess that’s true,” You mumbled coyly, looking up at her. You saw her assertive gaze flick up and down your body, as if it wanted to penetrate through the layers of PTMC-approved attire you had on…no, that’s just your gutter-marinated brain speaking. There’s no way your direct superior has a thing for you. If she does, she’d never let it happen. Cassie was too…ethical for that. Wasn’t she? 

“You coming with?” 

“Of course,” She answered. “You’re my med student, after all…have to keep an eye on you.” 

My med student. Eye on you.

Oh, you wanted her eyes on you alright. 

The patient was a 10-year-old gymnast, who dislocated her shoulder on impact trying to land a back handspring. Her mother was in the cafeteria grabbing her a sandwich, so it was just you and McKay in the room. After injecting the joint space with lidocaine, Cassie gestures for you to come closer, subsequently entrapping you with her body from behind. 

“You familiar with the Hennepin technique?” She murmured in your ear. Miraculously, you managed to stay composed as you responded.

“Yeah, sort of…I usually prefer a good Scapular.”

“Lie down, sweetie,” She whispers gently to the child, cautiously helping her rest supinely. For a split second, you imagined her saying these exact words to you as she prepared to dive between your legs. With a deep inhale, you ignored the blooming heat in your lower body, and waited for her instructions. 

“So first, bring the affected arm against the chest,” Cassie began, watching as you obeyed her command with the little girl’s arm in your gloved hands. “Flex the elbow to 90 degrees…yep, just like that.” 

Focus. Focus. Fucking focus.

“Now, rotate her forearm outward,” She rasped, her hands slithering over yours to guide you. “Until it’s between 70 to 110 degrees…careful, she’s fragile.” 

Her breath fans the exposed skin of your neck. Don’t. Don’t think about how it would grace the skin of your pu—

You inhaled sharply, and moved the lanky forearm accordingly. 

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Stop. Stop thinking, you piece of shit.

But scolding your brain did nothing to prevent the goosebumps erupting in your arms and neck, as you successfully reduced the joint with your mentor’s guidance. The same guidance that your body liquefied into sticky slick soaking the fabric of your panties. 

Maybe you were going insane, but you could’ve sworn she noticed. Even worse, you could’ve sworn she knew what she was doing. Because she was smirking at you cockily now. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She cooed. “Don’t tell me you’re this shaken up over a closed reduction…” Thankfully, the little girl was too distracted with the fabric of her sling to pay attention to your exchange. 

“No, nothing’s wrong,” You managed quietly. 

“You sure? You’re usually…bolder.”

bolder?

You were confident in your abilities sure…but ‘bold’ would be a more applicable adjective to someone like Dr. Trinity Santos. 

“Wouldn’t say I’m ‘bold’, per se—“

“Oh, you are,” McKay drawled lazily, her arm snaking around your shoulder as she led you out of North 5. “Don’t sellyourself short. Shine, like you always do.” 

Okay, this was getting weird.

It felt like she knew something, and was implicitly hinting at it for her own amusement. Bold. Sell. Shine.

You weren’t dense, but you did have a history of overthinking. Even so, what other conclusion could there be? Your stomach was already in your ass before the realization fully hit. 

She knew.

Somehow, McKay knew about what you did every saturday night. And the way her eyes gleamed at the sight of your growing clamminess and widened eyes basically confirmed it. 

“After your shift ends, meet me in the parking lot. We need to discuss your, uh…evaluation.”

Fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve even been this nervous when you did your sub-I in psychiatry and dealt with dangerously unstable patients. You could see her in the distance, leaning against her dull, old BMW, emitting clouds of nicotine. With a gulp, you slowly approached her, footsteps against the concrete alerting her to your presence. 

“How’s it going, kid?” Cassie mused, freeing the cigarette from her lips as she surveyed you hungrily. “Took you long enough…”

“Sorry, got stuck with the night shift for a few,” You mumbled meekly, looking up at her anxiously. Silence graced the air between you for a few seconds. You were about to start filling it, when she beat you to it.

“So…it’s a weekly ritual,” She muttered between puffs of smoke, confirming your worst fear a second time. “Didn’t take you for that kinda girl, to be honest…you always seemed too wholesome for that shit, being a child prodigy and all that.” 

You didn’t even know what to say or do, just continued staring at her like you were at the gallows and she was your executor. Your gaping expression made her snicker softly, stomping the butt of her cigarette into a powder against fine gravel then approaching you with a gleeful glint in her sharp blues. 

“Oh, relax, would ya? I’m not telling a soul,” She grinned, looming over you in a way that would’ve been menacing if she wasn’t Cassie McKay. “Not even here to berate you or anything…I respect a working girl. I actually want to thank you.” 

That’s when you finally found your voice again. 

“Wh- thank me?” You sputtered. 

“Yeah, thank you…for doing me a solid,” Cassie stated smoothly. “I’m sure you heard all about my near-extinct sex life, with the way I’ve been complaining about it everyday…I think we’re well past professionalism at this point.” 

“…Yeah.”

“Right, well I decided to try and give myself some peace of mind for a change, since I’m not getting laid anytime soon…that’s how I discovered your secret, baby.” 

“Really?” You croaked weakly. 

“Yes, really. And oh, were you so helpful to me…you have no idea.” She stepped closer to you, and leaned until her lips were on-level with your ear. 

“Your videos made me cum so hard, I forgot where I was in the moment,” She whispered hotly. Shit.

You didn’t know what to say, only making a strangled noise from the back of your throat at her confession. You can’t lie and say you never imagined her saying those words to you…you just never imagined it happening. Your face burned as you heard her laugh again.

“My, are you on edge,” She giggled, her calloused palm cupping your waistline. “What happened to all that confidence? All that…self-assurance from your videos? You sure aren’t too shy to talk to your audience…it’s just me, babe.” 

“Are you…are you not worried about HR—“

“Fuck HR!” She snapped affirmatively, tugging you closer. “I’m done barring myself from being happy…it’s been too long.” Her demeanor softened at your unreadable expression, and her hand began to stray away from your clothed skin towards the open air. Suddenly, her hands were clammy and there was a growing pit at the bottom of her stomach. What the fuck was she thinking, asking a girl half her age (that she mentors and writes SLOEs for) for a one-night stand? Was she sick in the head? All that “fuck the rules” shit was suddenly thrown out the window. 

“Unless you don’t want this at all…and you think I’m being super gross and creepy about this. Jesus, I’m so sorry—“ Hearing her spiral deeper and deeper with guilt after every word, you decided to reassure her by pressing your full lips against hers. You barely gave her enough time to react, before you pulled away with an exhale. 

“I never said I wasn’t into cougars, Cassie.”

The car ride to your place was considerably quick— Cassie urged you to go as fast as legally possible. Before you knew it, you were backed up against your door, being kissed breathless by your hot, butchy mentor. Fuck, what did you do in your life to deserve this? Take that, mother. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” Cassie breathed, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth. God, she was such a good kisser. You lick into her mouth for a few more seconds, before pulling away wetly and grabbing her by the hand. 

“This way.” 

Fuck, it was just how it looked in those videos. Warmly lit, a leopard print fleece blanket topping cherry sheets, and a whole wall covered with posters of your favourite bands and artists. She shivered slightly— this was where it all happens. 

Cassie doesn’t hesitate to push you down and kiss you again, climbing on top of you as she shoved her tongue through your lips. 

“Can’t help it anymore, baby,” She hisses against you, lips descending to the sweet spot below your jaw. “These fucking videos…it’s not the same as having you under me right now.” 

You could barely get a breath in as she almost tore through your scrubs and undershirt, leaving you in that black bra you’ve had for years (it’s on its last leg) and a matching pair of panties. She could see the outline of the little barbells around your hardened nipples, and it made her feel lightheaded with lust. Cassie was usually smooth with the women she slept with, but now she was clumsily fiddling with the clasp of your bra and panting like she already went 3 rounds. 

When she managed to get it off, she didn’t even give herself a moment to admire— her mouth went straight to your right nipple, licking at the sweaty metal around the sensitive bud eagerly. She already knew what you looked like, ogled you for too long and now she couldn’t waste more time looking; she’s always been told she was a proactive person, after all. 

“When’d you get these, hm?” She murmured, sucking the nipple into her mouth and groaning as you mewled. “Tell me, hon.”

“It…it was a dare,” You stammered, bleary eyes watching her drool all over your tits. “For my birthday a few years ago…”

Cassie barked out a laugh at that answer, tonguing at your left nipple now. “Bold, aren’t we?” She tugged the firm skin between her teeth, making you yelp and arch. 

“So the slut on camera is your real self, huh?”

Her words made you moan a little too loudly for someone who wasn’t even getting fucked yet. She grinned wolfishly at your reaction, icy eyes digging into your soul. 

“So it’s not an act for the audience,” She noted. “You really do get off on being treated like shit.” You couldn’t even deny it. Getting called a slut wasn’t exactly peak degradation, but it did hint at a deeper, more carnal need you had…one that Misty couldn’t fulfill on the rare occasion that she fucked you for the camera. 

Your train of thought was rudely interrupted by her ringed fingers clasping your face like a claw machine, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pout fishily. 

“Use your words,” She demanded, her minty breath now wafting over your lower face. “Tell me I’m right. I haven’t even fucked you dumb yet…know you got some good ones in that genius brain of yours.”

“You’re right…” 

She tilted your head further up. “Right about what, sweetheart?” 

You suppressed a groan as she jeered, and decided to pack your pride in a suitcase and toss it in a river— as you do every Saturday night. 

“…I like being treated like shit.” 

“Awwh, I know you do,” She cooed tauntingly, shaking your head from side to side before letting go of your face. To your surprise (and delight), she proceeded to spit on your soft tits, and slap the delicate skin enough to cause some mild redness. You found yourself whimpering at the pleasant sting, and you grabbed her wrist before her hand could begin tearing into your panties.

“Wait— do that again.” 

Cassie paused, then chuckled knowingly, scoffing at your pleading expression. 

“Is this how you ask, baby?” She tutted, groping your supple flesh and thumbing at your bejeweled nipples. “Even dirty whores have to ask politely, y’know…” You would’ve never guessed a few hours ago that McKay even had those words in her functioning vocabulary; you were always under the impression that she was ruled by her work ethic. Maybe you were wrong. Either way, you were now jumping at the chance to debase yourself for her viewing pleasure, no one else’s. 

“Please, Cass…please spit on me, slap me— fuck, treat me like shit, please,” You rambled beggarly. “Be mean to me, do anything you want to me, please—“ 

She cut you off with a firm slap to your left cheek, forcing your face to the right for a second. It’s her sick way of reassuring you that your prayers have been answered, your pleads assented to; and your responsive whine was your sick way of confirming the verity of your needs. 

“Dirty, fucking girl,” She spat, letting go of your face and shuffling down your body. Finding your clothed crotch, she mouthed sloppily at the dampened lace covering your pussy, groaning as she felt the second set of jewels behind the fabric. 

“Now, how do you think the rest of the hospital would feel about their bright, little med student doing porn on the side?” She tormented, pinching at your inner thighs and watching you squirm. “What do you think would happen if they saw what I saw?”

Of course, you knew her threats were empty. Cassie would never blackmail you like that. But fuck, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being exposed didn’t make your pussy drool. And she could feel it, smirking against the fabric as the wet spot on it grew in size. 

“That’s fucking nasty, baby…you want them all to know about the shit you get up to at night?”

She briefly rubbed your pierced clit over the now-useless lace, grinning up at you wickedly. 

“Then again, shouldn’t be surprised…you do love putting on a show.” 

She gave your covered pussy a few, gentle strokes…then suddenly gripped the fabric tight with both hands, and tore it horizontally to unwrap her prize. 

“Jesus, Cass!” 

“Oh, shut up,” She muttered, taking in the sight of your sparkling, soaked cunt with a peckish glare. “You love it.” She gave your mound a sloppy kiss, right over the little crimson jewel you picked out for your Christina, and giggled when you writhed. 

“Look at this gorgeous pussy, holy shit…”

She flattened her pink tongue, and gave your labia a long, upwards lick, parting your outer lips in the process. The mere sensation of her steamy breath on your clit makes you whimper audibly, considering how your nerve endings became thrice more sensitive after you got it pierced. And of course she noticed. How could she not? She was possibly the most perceptive person in the whole department, that one. 

Thankfully, she didn’t comment on that— not verbally, at least. Instead, she opted for deliberately blowing cool air directly over your clit, making your hips buck just a little. That’s when she saw a black square and a glassy gleam from her peripheral view. 

Misty had entrusted you with some of her filming equipment, since she was visiting some family out of state. Her Canon EOS was perched atop a black tripod, from an angle where it can perfectly capture everything happening in the center of your room (where your bed was). You could already see the idea in her smirk before she even said anything.

“Cassie, no.” 

“Why not?” She retorted, standing up and walking towards the little setup. “I know how to work this thing just fine…”

“It’s not mine,” You tried again. 

“Yeah, figured it must belong to that girl you like to fuck in your videos sometimes,” She muttered bluntly.

“Cassie!”

“What? Not like it’s a secret…” The subtle bitterness in her tone made you giggle and sigh, utterly surrendering to her antics. 

“What, you want me to post you this time?”

“Nah, no one’s seeing this one,” She murmured softly, a she turned the camera on and adjusted it. “This one’s for me.” 

Oh?

She grinned at her reflection in the lens, patting the top of the camera lightly then retreating back to tower over you on the bed. Your thighs were pressed together now, pussy eager for what was about to happen. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Teasingly, you only parted them a scarce sliver, looking up at her with a smug smile. That’s when you saw the playfulness in her eyes harden into pure assertion. She grabbed your knees, and forced them apart with the strength she developed from years of emergency residency. 

“I said spread your fucking legs!” She snarled, giving your sticky cunt a quick, harsh slap right on the sparkling pearl.

“Shit!” You don’t remember ever being this turned on before. Your typically composed, nurturing mentor, the same woman who signs your evaluations and compliments every breath you take right, is treating you like dirt on the sole of her shoe (sexily). Is expressing all that pent-up horniness in the way you least expected. 

McKay herself was just as surprised as you are, even if she didn’t show it. Christ, is this what happens to her if she’s left high and dry for that long? She feels like a rabid dog that needs to be put down. She would’ve felt guilty for talking to you like this— she always preferred gentle guidance in the bedroom instead of nasty words— if it weren’t for how your face was aflame and your hole leaked with every ribald adjective jumping off the tip of her tongue. 

Before you both knew it, she was yanking off her own pants and boxers in one go, pressing her pale, amber-tressed mound against yours. The sensation of her puffy, outer lips kissing yours, the barbell on your clit pressing cooly against her naked, plump one, makes her gasp and hiss. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby…” 

She props a soft thigh over your left pectineal line, pressing tighter and moaning as her soaked labia smacked against yours wetly. You also were enjoying yourself, to say the least; the moment her delicate, pink skin touched your punctured bud, a broken whimper graced her ears. The sound made her grin slyly, as her hips started a slow, firm pace against yours. 

“Sensitive?” You moaned pathetically in response, the friction against your fragile clit prompting your hole to clench around cool air and leak onto hers.

“It’s making me worry,” She pouted with mock concern. “It’s making me worry that you’ll cum before the fun even begins…can’t have that, can we?”

You whined in embarrassment and bucked your hips against hers in an attempt to get her back on track, but Cassie wasn’t having it. Shifting her weight to pin your pelvis down on the mattress, she gave you a militant glare. 

“Stay down,” She demanded. “You wanna get fucked good? You stay still, and listen.” 

The way she was berating you, like you were a bratty child being a nuisance, only made your pussy feel hotter. 

“O-Okay…”

“ ‘O-Okay’!” She mimicked in a dramatically high-pitched voice, snickering at you with a look that made you want to become one with the sheets. “That’s not good enough, slut. Tell me you understand.” 

“I understand…”

“I understand, what?” 

You weren’t daft. You knew what she wanted to hear, and it was evident in the way her mean smirk widened. Never in your life did you imagine Cassie McKay a bully, with all her perpetual, motherly kindness that permeated nearly every interaction you two had before this. But aside from you being at a point where you’d do anything to have her hips move again, you were also really fucking into this. 

“I understand, Daddy.” 

Her gaze grew half-lidded at this, tonguing the inside of her right cheek as she gripped your face. 

“Yeahhh…that’s more like it.”

With that, she resumed her pace— steady and consistent, but intentionally failing to get you anywhere near enough to where you want to be. You cried out profanely as her slick cunt glided over yours rhythmically, lips hugging and clits rubbing deliciously. The camera watched you voyeuristically, taking in every obscene ’shlick!’ of your kissing pussies and every lusty noise departing from your throats. 

“F-Fuck, please—“ 

Smack!

Your face snapped to the side with the sharp, quick impact, blood already pooling beneath the surface of your skin in a faint, red blotch. 

“Please, who?” Cassie sneered, using your hair to push your head back against the duvet. “What do you want, hon?” 

“Please, Daddy, faster…”

“Awww,” She cooed mockingly, patting your reddened cheek lightly to reactivate the sting. “So polite…my own, little bitch. You gonna ass-lick me for that orgasm you’re not getting next?” 

Fuck, she was being so mean. So uncharacteristically mean. And it made you salivate. 

She took one more look at your bleary eyes, and sped up her tempo with a scoff, hips rolling fluidly against yours while she watched your tits bounce. With how sensitive your cunt was, you could easily feel your impending release in the horizon— which she is barring you from, apparently. 

“These as sensitive too, sweetheart?” She teased, lifting a hand to pull and twist roughly at your gleaming nipples. Your subsequent squeak made her giggle, rubbing her sopping flesh over yours harder. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

She spat on your tits as she did earlier, rubbing the slightly translucent substance into your flesh roughly before giving it a few, resounding slaps. Your yelps and cries were music to her ears— her own Mozart. With a guffaw from her and a whimper from you, the loud, squelching noises of your sticky slits smacking against each other only rose in volume. So did your urgency, because you were on the brink of cumming. 

“Daddy, I’m clo—“ 

“No,” She interrupted firmly, pulling up your right leg to rest over her shoulder as her hips oscillated back and forth intently. “You’re holding it.” 

“Please—“

“You’re dumber than I thought,” Cassie scoffed, pinching at your nipples and making you arch. “I said you’re fucking holding it. I didn’t ask. Jesus, maybe you’re not all that special after all.” 

Her insults did nothing to prevent your orgasm from building up— matter of fact, they only increased its proximity. You whined and clawed at her tough arms in weak desperation, your writhing hips beneath her weight telling her everything she needed to know. Hastily, she managed to remove her shirt and bra without stopping once, slapping your hand away when you reached for her supple tits. 

“Fucking useless little slut, aren’t you?” Cassie seethed, halting all movement and rolling her eyes as you cried out in protest. “Can’t even hold back an orgasm…what am I supposed to do with you, hm?”

She got up momentarily, her reddened labia parting with yours in an obscene display of wet strings. The dissipation of her warmth against yours made you shiver unpleasantly, glaring weakly at her a she reached for her bag…and pulled out a considerably thick, midnight blue strap-on. And a pair of blue, latex gloves from the box Dana kept at the nurse’s station.

Your heart rate picked up at the sight, your hole contracting emptily. When she turned back, she raised her brows and snickered at your visible enthusiasm. 

“Don’t get too excited, kid,” She smirked, putting her legs through the designated gaps and fixing on the harness. “This baby’s not going anywhere near where you want it to be.”

“…You mean—“

“Yeah,” She deadpanned, leaning over you once more. “It’s going in your ass. Roll over.”

You complied almost instantaneously, resting flat on your stomach and looking to the left to find the camera winking back at you. You grinned, head swiveling back to eye her over your shoulder. 

“Hey, maybe I should tell Misty we have a new member on the team,” You said innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at her. You watched as her expression went from being smug to tight, and giggled to yourself. 

Cassie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and tilted her head at you. 

“Yeah? That’s how we’re playing this?” 

“Guess so!”

The older woman barked out a sardonic laugh, shaking her head and palming your asscheeks gently with a gloved hand. “You don’t know what you just did to yourself, sweetheart…”

She gave your right globe a sudden, forceful slap, making you interrupt your own laughter with a strangled gasp. She didn’t stop there, tutting demeaningly as she continuously brought her hand down on each cheek until they were hot and crimsoned. 

“Where do you keep your lube?” It sounded more of a demand than a question. You begrudgingly pointed to a clear bottle standing on your bedside table, watching as she staggered towards it with a wolfish grin.

“And you keep that shit in plain sight? Fuckin’ whore…”

You bit your lip and squirmed lightly. “Did you expect any less from me?” 

“Of course not,” She said, standing behind you again and giving the bottle a few pumps into her fingers. “I did expect some baseline decorum from our beloved prodigy, though…but you’re a slut at heart, aren’t you, baby?”

“Why don’t you find out yourself, Daddy?” This would probably be the last dare you ever challenged her with, because your bravado began to crumble the moment she rubbed the lube into your puckered hole and eased a finger in. 

“Yeah, I’ll find out, alright…” Cassie didn’t even need to see your face to notice that the bratty act was weak in the knees, because she was a doctor. She could feel your blood vessels dilate below your skin, could feel your lungs‘ dissatisfaction with the shallow volume of air entering them. You were losing your composure, slowly but surely. 

“Breathe, honey,” She crooned almost soothingly, but you knew she was mocking you. She knew you were already out of breath with just her index finger in your ass; when you two have only just begun. You stared at the camera with pinched brows as one digit turned into two reaching into your canal. Back and forth, back and forth…

Until she suddenly withdrew. You heard the squeak of the bottle as she pumped some more lube into her hand, now lathering the dildo in it and smirking at its glossy finish. And with zero warning, plunged into your tight hole to the hilt. 

“Fuck, Cassie!”

“Not what you’re allowed to call me right now,” She grunted, smacking your ass. “You want me to move? Say it right.” In all your months fucking yourself and getting fucked on camera for the tens of thousands, you’ve never felt your face burn in shame this much. It was an achievement, mainly on McKay’s part. 

“Daddy—“ She wasted not a millisecond, immediately withdrawing then shoving deeper into your ass. 

“Oh, God!” 

“Funny you mention him,” Cassie teased through grit teeth, as she forced the silicone dick through your tight ring of muscle again and again. “Don’t think the big man upstairs would be too happy with anything you’ve been doing…think he’s been watching?” 

In any different context, you would’ve rolled your eyes. But in this context, your eyes were rolling back into your skull. 

“If I were him, I wouldn’t be better than any of those pigs you put on shows for.” It was the last jive she made before grabbing your hips and forcing your asscheeks to smack against her thighs crudely, groaning at your pleasured cries and the stained print of your sodden cunt on the red sheets. A hand leaves your right side to mount your mane of hair, fingers strangling themselves in your strands and clenching down in a tight grip as she raised your head. 

“Look at the camera,” She ordered under her breath, her lips brushing your helix tantalizingly. You did, and you felt her suppress a smirk against your ear. “You wanna cum? Tell them how much you wanna cum.” 

Now, you knew “them” was the role-play part in all of this and that she wasn’t planning on having it posted, but it did flip a switch in your brain that only appeared once a week per schedule. Dazed with lust and desperation, your pupils penetrated the lens. 

“I wanna cum so bad— fuck…” 

Splat!

A glob of spit landed on your cheek, sliding down the skin then being rubbed in vulgarly by Cassie’s other hand. Her front was fully pressed against your back now, pink nipples kissing your flesh. 

“You’re real fuckin’ dumb if you think you’re cumming from this,” She jeered, latex smacking damply against your slicked cheek before pinching your whole face between her thumb and the rest of her digits, forcing you to keep your eyes on the machine. “Tell them how dumb you are. Say, ‘I’m a dumb, little bitch’.”

“I’m a dumb, little bitch…” The speed in which you said it was ridiculously ironic, considering medical jargon was always teetering on the tip of your tongue. 

She slapped you again, and her grip on your hair tightened. “Louder!”

“I’m a dumb, little bitch!”

“Thaaat’s more like it, atta girl…” She kept her pace brutal and deep, relishing in the smooth arch of your back and the rising hoarseness in your loud moans. “See, dumb sluts don’t get to decide when they can cum…that’s for people with functioning brains to do.” 

You could feel it in her clammy skin, hear it in her rugged voice. She was close. And so were you, but she was not about to grant you that privilege just yet. 

“You’re holding it,” She repeated breathily, growling against your skin as the other end of the base rubbed against her turgid clit. It only took a few more seconds for her to swear under her breath in a gasp, moistening her side of the harness and ceasing her thrusts. You, of course, left longing and frustrated. 

Cassie was breathless for several moments, before she looked down and saw you glaring at her over your shoulder bitterly. 

“Aww, don’t look so sad!” She pouted meanly, ruffling your hair and giggling at your dissatisfied expression. “I’m not a monster, sweet girl…you’ll get what you want eventually.” 

She languidly pulled out of your asshole, marveling at the way it gaped so openly. 

“We need to plug that ass up, hon…where’s your stuff?” Weakly, you motioned to a drawer in your vanity. Once again, she leaves you to snoop through your…equipment. 

“Woah! Would you look at that?” She snorts as she holds up a pair of tangled nipple clamps, tossing them next to you on the bed. “We’re definitely using this…”

She’s gasping and making all these dramatic noises on purpose, just to hear your meek whines. In reality, she saw wayworse in her college days. She ends up pulling out a heart-shaped, bejeweled butt plug, along with a tiny bullet vibrator.

“And this one’s for me,” She declared in regards to the latter, taking a moment to turn it on a low setting and shove it beneath the harness to rest directly on her clit. Approaching you, she cautiously slathered the thing in lube, then rubbed your sore ass soothingly. 

“This is goin’ in, alright?” 

Slowly, the cool metal of the plug slid into your warm channel, forcing your rim to stretch as it filled you up. You mewled as she pressed the bottom against your hole securely, the red jewel nestled cozily between your asscheeks. For a few moments, she lets you get used to the feel of it pressing against your walls, then she rolls you on your back and grabs the nipple clamps. 

“Can’t do this without the full setup, don’t you think?” She quipped, and you did your best to suppress a smart-lipped retort. Your eyes darted between her focused expression and her fingers as she took a moment to detangle the silver chain between the two clamps, raising your eyebrows as she turned to you with a wicked look. 

“Gonna have to put them on vertically, considering the space your piercings are occupying…So well-behaved for staying nice and quiet, by the way. Good girl.” Part of you wanted to make a smart jab at her just for this, but the other part was busy swooning over her praise. 

In a clinical air, she carefully latches each of your erect nipples between the jaws, crooning as you gave a dry sob and stilling your wriggling body with her thighs. 

“There we gooo…They look so pretty, baby,” She smiled, tugging at the connecting chain just to watch you gasp and push at her hands. 

“Now, for the fun part.” 

She keeps you on your back this time, and places her palms on your shins to gently bend your knees towards your chest. That way, you were spread open on display for her (and the camera), open cunt glistening and plug jewel sparkling in the lights. A low whistle emerged from her lungs as she drank you in hungrily. 

“What a sight for sore eyes…and legs.” 

Not awaiting your response, she positions her knees on the mattress between your spread thighs, grabbing the shiny dildo and slapping it crudely against your needy pussy. 

“Beg.” 

You begin to groan at her demand. Haven’t you done enough of that already? But then her ringed fingers encircle the column of your throat, and you scramble to put together the words she wants to hear. 

“P-Please, Daddy, I need your cock.”

“Yeah? Where do you need it, baby?” Your expertly honed, pornographic instincts were activated once more, tilting your head back to make eye contact with the camera as you answered to her command. 

“Need it in my pussy, Daddy…” 

She stared at you in lustful disbelief for a quick moment, holding back a moan. It wasn’t just her speedy recovery from her dry spell— she was experiencing a video of yours in real time. Cassie gulped, and snapped back into character as she rubbed the head upwards and downwards between your pussy lips. 

“You beg so pretty,” She cooed, her left hand tracing the back of your thigh as she pushed in smoothly. “Such a good slut…”

You should’ve known her supposed benevolence wasn’t going to last long, because when she pulled out, she sank back in hard. 

“Shit!”

“Oh, please!” McKay scoffed, setting a punishing pace in and out of your flooded pussy. “I saw you take one 3 inches longer on my screen, you’re fine.” You merely whined, writhing helplessly beneath her and staring forlornly at the camera like it’s about to swoop in and save you. 

But your auburn-headed mentor had other plans for you. With a snarl, she twisted the chain with her fist and tugged at your clamped nipples harshly, reveling in the way your broken cries meshed with your hole’s loud squelches. 

“Unless I say otherwise, you keep those eyes on me,” She grunted, eyes narrowing at your mascara-stained cheeks. “Say sorry.”

“Sorry, Daddy…” She smiled as more, fresh tears of delight rolled down your cheeks, dissolving your makeup and debauching your face further. “Aww, look at you…thank me for making you cry.” Her demand was followed by an affirmative slap to your tear-stricken skin. 

“Thank you for making me cry, Daddy,” You sobbed, surrendering to her implacability. 

“That’s it…you want more, baby?” All you could do was nod rapidly, blubbering as she pounded your seeping hole with borderline animalistic force. 

“Fuck, fuck!” 

“That’s what I’m doing,” She chuckled, and you would’ve smacked her arm if yours weren’t starting to tremble with every violent thrust into the wet depths of your swollen cunt. Seriously, since when was she this much of a smartass? It was usually you doing the talking. 

She buried the plastic cock to the base, and leaned over you to grip your chin assertively. 

“Open your mouth, slut.” You obeyed, and she shot a wad of spit onto your tongue, swearing under her breath as she watched you swallow. She forced your mouth back open again, this time to shove her index, middle, and ring fingers down your throat to watch you gag and drool around the rubbery gloves.

“Dirty, little whore…look at that…” She entertained herself with your reddening face, running nose, and welling eyes, until she hastily pulled her gloved digits out and smothered your face with the dripping latex.

The rounded tip of the strap was using your G-spot as its own, spongy punching bag, practically gutting you with every hard pummel. 

And fuck, the way your pussy strangled the silicone greedily, walls tightening and relaxing wetly around the thick length. If that thing was her flesh and blood, you would’ve cut off her circulation by now.

It was all utterly dizzying for you. Her visceral tempo, the electrifying tugs at your clamped, oversensitive nipples, the classic anthem of sweaty skin stickily clapping against sweaty skin, and the sight of your superior’s jiggling breasts and breathy moans as she fucked the everliving shit out of you at a primal tempo. A slap to your soft tits, soothed by her spit being massaged into your pores and your oceanic tears kidnapped by her tongue. It was intense, overstimulating, disgusting, pornographic. Your wavelength, and apparently hers too. 

The moment you felt yourself right on the edge, you shackled Cassie with your limbs and clawed at her back like your life depended on it. Having been deprived for too long, you knew it was going to hit you hard. 

“Yeah, I see you,” She managed in a rough whisper, feeling her own begin to fray her nerve endings. The bullet vibe she stole from your drawer had been working overtime, buzzing relentlessly against her clit whilst being drowned by her arousal. That, combined with the friction from the base and the unspeakable sight of you, was enough to take her there. “Daddy’s got you, baby. C’mon…”

She tilted your jaw so you can face the camera again, her nose pressed against the apple of your left cheek as her teeth met tightly. 

“Keep your eyes on it,” She hissed carnally, managing only a sloppy kiss against your skin. “Keep your eyes on the camera while you cum.”

When your orgasm finally hit, it wrecked you. Sucking you in with the inescapable gravitational force of a supermassive black hole, turning your insides into spaghettified mush. You could faintly feel your hole clamp down on Cassie’s strap-on like a vice, as well as the older woman’s shudders in response to her own pinnacle. Your eyes were still on the all-seeing camera lens, but your vision was dotted with black and it took your retinas a few minutes to escape the shadows. 

While you didn’t know what you looked like at the moment, you were acutely aware of how your appearance felt: your scleras were starting to feel dry from all that crying, your cheeks crusty with flaky mascara. You could sense the sliminess of snot in your nostrils, and definitely the cooled dampness of saliva on various parts of your body— or at least, its residue. Your skin felt raw and hot in areas such as your ass, your face, and your breasts, with how frequently they fell victim to Cassie’s swift blows. Oh, and the fact that you were soaked between the thighs, and so were your poor sheets below you. As for Cassie herself, she wasn’t on the bed with you anymore. You only realized what she was doing when your eyes were focused again, and you heard some oddly familiar sounds emitted in a crackly, distant quality. They almost gave you déjà vu…

Meanwhile, McKay was grinning down lazily at the footage, preparing to transfer it to her phone as soon as she could. 

“Oh, sweetheart…you truly are a star.”

cassie being so rough with her touches and her hands while she's fucking you, but apologizing so sweetly into your lips @__@ she's just so pent up and frustrated, almost feels bad for taking it out on such a sweet angel's hole. but it feels so good to be rough.

"it doesn't hurt, does it?" cassie asks breathlessly, chain swinging back and forth as she slams her hips into yours. "just tell me if it does, and i'll stop."

"i'm sorry for being so rough, baby. you're being so good for me. taking it so well." cassie grunts into your ear, nails digging into your asscheeks painfully while she thrusts into you from behind.

"i know it's too big, sweetie, but you can take it, can't you? just relax for me." cassie places open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hands gently stroking your sides while she coaxes you into taking her thick strap. she thrusts her hips forward again, feeling her cock sink in deeper. "thaaaat's it, baby. i knew you could do it."

cassie's fingers stuffed deep inside your mouth while she pounds into you, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag occasionally. god, she'd wipe your tears with her other hand and coo at you, praising you for taking her so well, but would still fuck the shit out of you. would still make you scream and squirm and babble incoherently while her strap bulges in your stomach.

cassie telling you what a pretty mess you look like while she pins your hips down!! she's between your legs, lapping at your swollen clit, rough hands wandering and groping you all over when she's not having to keep you still.

cassie whining out apologies for biting you or groping you too roughly, but still continuing to do it @__@ she'll clamp her jaw down on your neck and huff into it while she fucks you like a wild animal, will feel a twinge of guilt and hot pleasure settle in her belly when she pulls back and sees the teeth marks she left.

"shhhh, i'm sorry. i know it hurts." cassie soothes the fresh mark with her tongue and kisses it better. not even a minute later, she's got a bruising grip on your waist while her teeth break the skin on your chest.

cassie, with her fingers deep inside your hole, babbling about how good you feel while she nibbles on your bottom lip....she coos at your groans of pain, licks up your blood with her tongue when she bites down too hard.

505

or: the one where cassie just can’t keep her hands off of you 

(inspired by the scene of mckay fucking up that damn sandwich…and also by the teddy bear panties that i lost and can’t find sigh)

cw: some angst at the beginning, talks of god, drug addiction, and the custody battle, patient death, cassie has had a day, porn w/ plot, age gap (r in her early-mid 20s, cassie in her early 40s), intern!reader, kissing, fem!reader, cassie is HUNGRY, munch!cassie, munch!reader, pussy eating (both!receiving), face sitting (she sits on your face), rough sex, spit play and hair pulling, squirting, face fucking (r!receiving), mommy kink this time yippee, mean dom!cassie but she’s a little nice sometimes, praise and degradation (r!receiving), slight impact play (r!receiving), use of strap (both!receiving cuz it’s double-ended), prone bone, a bit of humiliation kink, the idea of exhibitionism is like mentioned briefly but doesn’t happen, she’s taking her stress out on you, dirty talk, nipple play (both!receiving), lactation kink (a little inaccurately portrayed i js wanted to make it happen okay), i got too lazy for proper aftercare, subspace, another long one i got carried away, might’ve gotten a little sloppy towards the end sorry yall, not proofread so there may be some errors im sorryyy

It was just grueling. 

Cassie knew it was the best path she took in her life so far, but she still couldn’t help but let her shoulders drop just a little every time her 2-minute respites between patients are harshly interrupted with a booming “incoming!”

Hand sanitizer. 2 pumps. Rub into every crevice of her hand as fast as she possibly could. Latex gloves that clung to her skin adhesively. Sprint towards the gurney. Take a gander, predict if the patient is on their first visit or last breath. Get to work. 

She sometimes wondered if this was her personal, karmic cycle. She didn’t believe in the big guy upstairs (nor did she believe in karma, really), but every time she was handed a dull-eyed patient about to slip through the cracks, it felt like God was personally rubbing it in her face. ‘See?’ He’d say smugly. ‘That’s what I saved you from. That’s where you could’ve been instead.’

Well, fuck that. It wasn’t God that held her in his arms and dragged her out of the depths of the underworld, littered with used needles and tobacco ash. They were her own arms, wound around her quivering body tightly as she came down from another high to face a brutal low. They were her own feet, that heavily trudged out of that house of horrors. It was she who has tore her way through a fresh start, the moment she was served that stupid piece of paper with “custody” printed over it several times. All of that was Cassie’s own blood, sweat, and tears. Not the narcissist who let it all happen and watched with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. 

BP dropping. Pulse tanking. Beeps echo tauntingly within the 4 walls of the ER, for everyone to hear and purse their lips at. Another one bites the dust. 

She had witnessed her fair share of deaths, even being at the scene first-hand. This wasn’t any different. But for some reason— maybe it was the accumulation of stress and anguish trapped within the chambers of her heart, or maybe it was that shitty coffee she hastily grabbed from the machine— this one tipped her over the edge. Thankfully, it was the end of her shift, and she could go home to screech into her pillow. 

Home. You.

You were her light and soul, currently enjoying the last hours of your day off. What were you doing right now? Probably watching that dumb reality show you loved so much. Or possibly messing around in the kitchen and creating some unfathomable excuse of a snack. The contemplation made the muscles in her face loosen just a little. The mundaneness of your day would subdue the chaos of hers. 

A tedious 45-minute drive later (thanks to the evening Pittsburgh traffic), Cassie found herself at her own front door. A heavy sigh eased the rigidity in her right arm, reaching for the keys and digging them into the hole. She could faintly hear the hum of music from the other side of the door, smiling weakly as Alex Turner’s voice grew in clarity when she finally opened. 

Your body was reclined on the wheat-colored couch, clad in a big graphic tee and those cotton panties with the teddy bear pattern (which you never got rid of even after McKay relentlessly bullying you for having them). She saw your eyes widen like they always do when you see her, and your delighted gasp rosed the pale apples of her cheeks just a shade. 

“You’re home!” 

“I am,” Cassie smirked lazily, letting you approach her with a pep in your step. The moment your arms snaked around her waist and your face found home in her chest, the older woman exhaled softly. It has been a hell of a fucking day. 

Your scent wafts into her nostrils, filling her lungs with rosy musk and raspberry shampoo. Oh, how she missed this; a 12 hour shift felt like 12 years without you commentating procedures by her side. Before she could contain herself, Cassie found her arms slithering away from your waist and descending until her calloused palms met your scantily-clad ass. She paid no heed to your choked snort, trapping the flesh between her fingers and breathing into the crook of your neck.

“Cassie…” You managed between breathy chuckles. “You okay?” 

All she did was hum, pulling you closer and squeezing just a little harder. 

“Long day.” 

“Must’ve been.” You smiled up at her. “You’re usually not like…this.”

“Like what?” She murmured lowly, her cracked lips brushing against your delicate skin. 

“I dunno…touchy.”

“You sayin’ I don’t touch you enough?” She teased, mouthing at your neck. “Well…that’ll have to change, won’t it?”

“That’s not what I—“ Your almost-explanation was interrupted by your girlfriend lifting you by the thighs, forcing your legs to curl around her waist. You were surprised at the fact that she had enough stamina to do so, considering what sounded like a nightmare shift. 

Ignoring your jovial protests, McKay marches into the bedroom, dumping you on the bed with unsurprising grace. All you could feel at the moment were hands— her hands, as they glide over every crevice of your body as she kisses you feverishly. 

“Cass—“ You gasped between hot kisses. “Cass, maybe not tonight—“

“I’m not that tired,” She huffed, cutting you off with her lips again. You knew she was lying. You can smell the evidence of her hard labor— sweat, hand sanitizer, and something metallic— not to mention her worn posture and almost-sleepy frown. 

“Right…”

“Just— please?” She sighed against you, hands itching to pull your shirt off. “I really need this right now…please.” Goddamn it. She made it impossible for you to resist her when she spoke like that. You eyed her for a few moments, then tugged her into you by the strings of her scrubs. 

Oh, she was ravaging you. All she was doing was mouthing and tonguing at your neck and jaw, but she was doing it with an intense hunger you were surprised she even had the energy for. Panting like a starving dog against your skin, she licked up the column of your throat and began sucking just where the side of your neck meets your jawline. Her hands, meanwhile, grabbed the hem of your shirt and eagerly lifted it upwards. 

“Arms up, Baby.” 

The shirt was off in a millisecond, leaving your tits bare and your nipples hardening as a response to the conditioned air. You could’ve sworn you saw the blue in Cassie’s eyes darken, as she immediately let her tongue circle your right areola. The sensation of hot saliva dripping over your nipple made your hips squirm, a quiet mewl signifying the sudden departure of your previous train of thought. 

“Oh…” It felt like no matter which direction your body writhed in, you couldn’t escape her hands, her mouth, her. She was everywhere all at once, filling you with warmth and a visceral desire almost rivaling hers. Her tongue was now slithering over both of your nipples, parted lips switching from peak to peak like she was furious she couldn’t suck both of your tits into her mouth. After she left them swollen and drenched with spit (and you whining with sensitivity), her reddened lips made their way down your stomach in a blazing trail of kisses. 

McKay was always the immovable object in your life— but now, she has transformed into the unstoppable force. Your could feel her grunts against your skin as she slid down, and her expression looked nearly furious at the barrier between the lowly earth and her personal heaven: the litter of tiny, brown teddy bears sewn onto white cotton. The subsequent narrow of her tired eyes made you giggle. 

“Cassie, are you—“ Your own, sharp gasp interrupted you this time, a reaction to the sound of a loud tear of fabric. 

She had ripped your teddy bear panties apart.

“Cassandra!” You exclaimed indignantly, staring down at her in shock. “I loved those!”

But she didn’t seem to hear, because she was entranced by the sight of your slicked pussy the moment she slaughtered the battalion of teddies. The impact was instantaneous; her tongue gave your folds a firm, long lick, her lips clamping down on your clit. 

“Cassie!” This time, your complaint was more of a quivery moan. She only murmured unintelligibly against your pussy in response, something about “buying you a new pair”. 

Your momentary anger has dissipated with a single lick around your tight hole, your thighs reflexively encapsulating her head like a Venus flytrap. She didn’t open open her eyes or stop as she forced them apart again, giving you a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh and an even sharper one to your cunt as she dove back in. You could barely keep up with her— nothing but a twitching, malfunctioning doll fallen prey to her relentless mouth. 

And she won’t let up. Tongue plunging itself into your sopping hole thirstily, ravenously sucking up your wetness like a parched sponge, before swimming back up to the surface to torture your clit and flick over your lips. She only parted to let a glob of spit slip off her tongue and onto your clit, before resuming her meal. You didn’t even have the capacity to feel embarrassed about the sticky, slurping noises she was making. All you could feel her do in response to your pleasure is grin madly and chuckle from time to time, according to the way your pussy clenched, your arousal leaked out of you like a lazy river, or the harshness in which you pulled her red hair. 

Your squirming does nothing to deter her famished feasting, but you know the warnings of your orgasm tumbling out of your mouth along with your helpless whimpers don’t fall on deaf ears. Her arms slithered down to hug the bottom of your thighs and palmed at your asscheeks, growling  against your pussy as she buried her face in your folds and propped her nose against your swelling clit. Usually, she’d be more verbal— even when she was eating you out— but at the rate she was bringing your orgasm closer with every gluttonous lick? You can let it slide. 

It doesn’t make a single difference to her when your limbs are tensing with a notable tremor. Or when your back arches off the mattress, toes curling tight. Or even your loud squeal as you sprayed her mouth and parts of her face. She doesn’t even flinch. Her head moves side to side as she sloppily tongues at your cunt, cleaning up your cum and moaning at the taste. Your overstimulation doesn’t deter her in the slightest for a few minutes; until your incessant, weak pushes against her scalp finally persuaded her to pull away with a deep inhale, thick strings of saliva connecting her lips to your swollen flesh. 

You almost passed out at what you saw when you looked down. Cassie’s eyes were trained on yours, leadened with lust. She was soaked in your squirt from the tip of her nose to the bottom of her chin, the right side of her face leaning against your left inner thigh. What you didn’t realize until now is that she’s been rutting against the edge of the mattress this whole time, the telling clue being the slight twitch of her hips against the bed. Yet you could tell she was far from done with you. 

You can’t lie and say you weren’t a little surprised by what she managed to have you do— you usually needed her fingers to squirt like this. But you didn’t have time to contemplate the dimensions of your orgasm, because she was pouncing on you again. 

“Fucking missed you,” She muttered, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth with a soft hiss. Her right hand emerged from below, silver-ringed fingers clutching your cheeks and squishing them together. 

“Open your fucking mouth,” She snapped. You did, and she shot a rope of spit right onto your tongue, patting your jaw to close and silently commanding you to swallow. 

“You wanna be good for me baby?” She sighed, tilting your head up so you could face her properly. McKay takes one look at the haziness of your pupils and flush of your cheeks, then smirks wickedly.

“Yeah, you look like you wanna be good…”

She strokes your hair gently with a hum, before she grabbed a fistful and used it to tug your lips onto hers once more. You felt her push you firmly against the bed while she crawled upwards, until she was straddling you just below your bare chest. It was clear to you in that moment what she needed, drool beginning to pool under your tongue at the realization. 

“Cass,” You breathed. Your hands went to hug her hips and pull her closer, but she slapped them away. 

“Not so fast, hon,” She taunted, gently pinning your wrists to the pillows. “Don’t tell me you forgot your manners so quickly…” You groaned at her humiliating demand. 

“…Please, mommy.”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“You know what!”

“Of course I do,” She cooed, thumbing at your bottom lip. “But I wanna hear you say it, baby.”

“Please sit on my face, mommy.”

“Oh, what a good girl!” She gasped mockingly, prompting a squeaky yelp from you when she reached down to tweak your nipples. “Using her words so nicely…”

Ignoring the way your skin mimicked a lively bonfire beneath her, She quickly slipped her pants and boxers off in one go, rising until her drooling pussy— in all its auburn glory— was hovering over your awaiting mouth. A string of her wetness dribbled down onto your exposed tongue, and Cassie snickered at how you moaned at the taste. 

“I just realized you never thanked me for that hell of an orgasm I gave you,” She frowned playfully. It seemed as though McKay’s energy has been replenished by drinking from the Fountain of Youth (your pussy). “Say, ‘thank you, mommy’.”

“…Thank you, mo—mmmph!” 

“Yeah,” She huffed, smothering your lips with her slick folds. “That’s enough from you, baby.” 

You didn’t miss a single beat. Your tongue immediately gave her cunt an obscene lick before sticking itself up her hole, caressing her contracting walls devotedly as she began to grind against your face— specifically your nose, considering how it pressed against her throbbing clit. 

“What a good, little bitch,” Cassie hissed, now beginning to fully ride your face with her fist in your hair to control you as she pleased. “Finally, putting that chatty mouth to better use…”

You whined hoarsely against her skin, sticking your tongue out as far as it would go so she can roll her hips against it comfortably. Honestly, you could barely recall how long you spent with her plush, pale thighs squeezing the sides of your head; you easily got pussydrunk on her. The smooth glide of her juicy cunt, up and down your pink tongue. The way the tip of your muscle occasionally dipped shallowly inside her, because she was just that wet. The assertive, predatory glare she fixed you with as she filled the room with her moans. And her scent— oh, her scent. It filled your nostrils and made your head lighten, better than anything you have ever smoked in your life. You can’t even get started on her taste; her essence surrounded you from every angle, concentrated in the form of a sticky, viscous substance glossing your lips. You could only roll your eyes back in their sockets and relax your body to let her take it all. 

You don’t even realize it when she climaxes on your tongue, too busy with your mindless, lazy lapping and clouded head— the only indicators, you come to learn, were the difference in taste and the light shakiness in her legs. You feel her use your hair to tug your head back while she takes off from your mouth, and that’s when you open your eyes and smile at her drunkenly. 

“Fucking pathetic, aren’t you?” Cassie laughed breathlessly, giving you a mild smack on the cheek in an effort to bring you back to Earth. 

“You’re one dumb little girl if you think I’m done with you yet.”

She stripped off the remainder of her uniform until she was fully naked. You began to salivate again, this time at the sight of her plump tits, and she scoffed at you as she got up. 

“Keep that tongue in your mouth, babygirl,” She hummed, rummaging through the drawer in her wardrobe until she fished out her finishing blow for the evening: 7 inches, concerningly thick, and the color of night. Double-ended, of course, the harness base being the facilitating barrier between your pleasure and hers. 

You watched her like a hawk as she slowly eased in her end of the strap, sighing contently as she moaned at the stretch before securing the harness around her hips and joining you back on the bed. 

For a few moments, she didn’t say anything. Then, her hands clasped around your waist, and she unceremoniously flipped you over so you were flat on your stomach. 

“Stay that way,” She grunted, pushing down one of your shoulder blades for emphasis as she loomed over you from behind. You soon sensed her fingers taking a quick swipe over your quivering pussy, and flinched a little at the sensitivity.

“Aww, look at you!” She chuckled, admiring the now-damp tips of her digits. “Still wanting more, like a goddamn slut…”

Cassie rested her naked front against your equally naked back firmly, so that the tip of the dildo nudged your swollen cunt and her face was right by yours. 

“You want something in your mouth?” She grunted, gripping your hair to lift your face from the pillows. The action made you gasp quietly, which she took as an opportunity to shove her slightly wet index and middle fingers inside your gaping cavern. “Suck.” 

And you did, grateful for the temporary relief of that frequent itch in your tongue. You moaned around her fingers, tongue languidly swirling around them and drenching them in your saliva. She let you have a minute or so, before she hastily pulled them out (much to your dismay), and roughly smeared the spit over your face. 

“There you go,” She grinned wolfishly, shoving your face back into the pillows and bringing her body back upright. “Just what you needed, right?”

Without another word, she reached down to guide the silicone dick to your hungry hole, sighing when it was immediately suffocated by your walls as if it was an extension of her own flesh. 

“Oh, what a greedy, fucking pussy,” She groaned, spreading your lax asscheeks to observe the way you sucked her in. You whined at the stretch as she bottomed out, and Cassie herself was moaning at how deep her end of the harnessed appendage was delving. 

She began to rock against you, slow but hard. She’d withdraw almost lethargically until your pussy was hugging the tip, then shove back in with a delicious sharpness that had your toes curling and your whimpers falling into the pillows. It didn’t take long for her to find her desired pace, hips snapping against your ass with lewd, wet slaps. 

“Shit!” You gasped, one of your hands reaching behind you to palm at her moving, right hip. However, she just used a hand to pin your arms behind your back in reaction to this, the other descending to give your asscheeks a few, scolding smacks. 

“Hands to yourself, baby,” She sneered breathily, pressing her plump tits to your back once more and inhaling shakily as her pale nipples brushed against your skin. In that position, she had you firmly trapped between her and the mattress, legs held down by hers and your arms manually bound to offer you no merciful escape from her thrusts. 

Your muffled mewls were a delectable symphony to her ears, paired with the vulgar, squelching noises your flooded pussy was making with every, impaling propulsion of Cassie’s dick. Deciding she wanted to add to your humiliation, the older woman bit her lip and pulled your head up by the hair. 

“Y’hear yourself, dirty girl?” She hissed tormentingly, deliberately gaining speed just to make the crude singing of your cunt louder. She cackles when you whimper, driving the navy cock into your spongy G-spot harder. 

“So fucking loud…wonder what everyone at work would think if I told them that their most beloved intern enjoys getting her back blown out by me.”

“Cass!” You wailed, her brutal thrusts forcing you to teeter on the verge of tears. Unsurprisingly, your exclamation earned you a stern and stinging slap on the cheek. 

“Not my name, slut.” 

“M-Mommy!”

“That’s right,” She crooned, her hot, minty breath fanning your right ear. “Good girl…”

Her punishing pace never faltered. Cassie was always freakishly good at focusing on you during sex— the only indication there was that she was being fucked behind the harness were her uneven exhales and her muttered “fuck”s. 

Noticing the way drool began to slide from your lips onto the comforting cotton, her icy blues suddenly lit up with another, sick idea. She waited until your lips parted wide enough in a horny moan, and forced 4 of her fingers near your throat. Her palm dug under your chin as she made you salivate all over her digits, while trapping the spit pooling behind your bottom front teeth. 

“C’mon,” She asserted, continuing to fuck you hard as she held your jaw open around her fingers. “Make a mess for me, honey.”

You made a wet, choking noise, eyes stinging with involuntary tears from the combination of her near-violent drilling in and out of your hole, and her fingers bathing in your overflowing mouth. 

Eventually, she retracts her hand sharply, extracting more drool with it…seeping down your chin from your bottom lip, down the column of your neck, staining the white beneath you with small, circular spots. 

“Messy, fucking whore,” McKay tutted with a feral grin, smothering the entirety of your face with her sullied hand. Suddenly, her index and middle fingers plunged back in to hook themselves to the inside of your cheek, and her other hand released your hair to do the same— stretching your lips into an open line that revealed your glossy teeth. Molding your expression into one of pure debauchery, a representation of what happens when your girlfriend’s pushed to her limits in the ER. 

“Breathe through it, baby,” She coos softly, her fingers stretching one hole while her dick stretches the other. “Just breathe.”

And you were trying to comply, but between her filthy words and pornographic thrusts, any air that graced your lungs escaped just as fast. She was rendering you breathless by fucking you like this, leaving you wailing muddily through bubbles of spit and writhing helplessly like a fish out of water— if the fish was majorly turned out by being taken out of its home and thrown onto the deck of a boat, that is. 

So here you were, spit slicking your skin, being pounded into next year by the PTMC’s wisest doctor. Your body was accelerating towards a second orgasm, and so was hers; you could tell by the way her nasty sentences began to slur. 

Using her anchored digits to pull your head back by your cheeks, Cassie hammers your swollen pussy with dizzying harshness. Being flat on your stomach meant your clit rubbed deliciously against the sheets with every pummel, blackening your vision and filling it with colorful stars. 

The stars…they were all you could see. Dancing in absolute nothingness, shining more and more with every step you take closer to your pinnacle. Brilliant hues brightened the darkness behind your eyelids as your walls tightened and tingled, and your nerves burned intensely. One last, unholy press of the phallic tip against your spot and you were dancing with them…the stars doubled in size, then grew so exponentially you saw nothing but light. You remembered reading about supernovas in the 4th grade, when you went through your astronomy obsession. You never imagined it was possible to see one, feel one up close. NASA said it was incomprehensible. 

Well, NASA can eat your shit. 

Peripherally, you could feel her trembles and hear her sharp cry as she reached her own pinnacle, chest firmly pressed to your now-sweating back. However, you couldn’t seem to come down from your own…maybe you didn’t want to. Maybe you could just remain in eternal bliss, floating in bright hues and dallying with dying stars. Maybe you’d find Cassie there with you, day burdens evaporated for good to leave her airy and light. You vaguely felt something pleasantly hot and liquid grace the skin of your back, rapidly sailing down, down, down…

You were not on your stomach anymore. Head still in the clouds, but perception less blurry now. There was a steady arm encompassing your body, welcoming you into a loving embrace. Cassie. You could hear her soothing whispers now. Or maybe you did hear them this whole time, just without comprehension. Opening your eyes, you were met with one of your favourite wonders of the world— your girlfriend’s tits. Pillowy, soft, and…Oh. 

Now you know what the hot liquid was. 

Her rosy nipples, erect and a little swollen from the friction, were dripping with thin, white milk. You knew it happened to her from time to time, even physically unprovoked. It typically occurred when she got pretty stressed, or occasionally during sex— tonight, it seemed to be both. 

Usually, she’d look a little bashful as she turns to the bathroom for a quick clean-up. But you couldn’t let that happen right now; why would you wanna risk her moving even an inch away from you? Besides, your sick, hazy little mind had other plans…it wanted your mouth to be the clean-up. 

“Baby, you okay?” Cassie asked worriedly. You’ve been pretty out of it since she pulled out, which she knew was normal for you sometimes, but she still needed some assurance that you were alive and well after all…that. 

You tried to tell her you were, but what came out instead was more akin to a pitchy hum. So, you opted for actions rather than words. 

Lethargically, you scooted closer, until your lips met her left nipple. The tip of your tongue lolled out, collecting minuscule droplets of milk before your mouth closed around the moist bud. You hummed again— this time, in sleepy delight. 

“Sweetheart…” She breathed, the subsequent rise of her chest encouraging you to bury your face in her delicate skin. Instinctually, her hand goes to your hair— gentle this time, stroking your strands and soothing your tender scalp. 

Your eyes fluttered shut again, eyelids heavy as your exhaustion really began to set in. You were suckling the sweet, pearly essence out of her sensitive nipple lazily, the repetitive action of suction and relaxation, tongue pushing back and forth, putting you in a trance. Naturally, she didn’t produce much; it’s been 11 years since she gave birth to her only child, and she’s now 42 with a highly demanding life. That didn’t bother you at all, though. All you wanted was her in your mouth forever. 

Cassie only moved to switch you to her other nipple, hissing quietly with overstimulation. She figured that if it helped lull you to sleep and relax your body, it was the least she could offer after using you as a stress toy. Besides, there was something about her bright, young girlfriend being put in a deep slumber with her tongue on her tits as a self-soothing mechanism that made her brain feel almost as fuzzy as yours must be. 

You lay there on your side, body sticky and naked as the day it emerged from your mother’s womb, drooling all over your ethically questionable girlfriend’s sore nipples…it was possibly the best send-off you’ve ever had to the 12-hour catnap you were about to surrender to. 

If this was what happened when McKay had a bad day, then perhaps you must try your hand at causing them.

Do What You Want

You needed to get this pervertedness out of your system, so you do. Abby would never need to know- right?

Cw| Spanking, strap on, Abby takes control but its not like planned idk its consented tho, rough, degradation, porn video, fingering, spit, angry sex, filthy nasty thoughts

_

You loved Abby. Abby was so good to you. So good. She was sweet and thoughtful. In bed she treated you like how the love of someone's life should be treat. You couldn't ask for more.

Except you could- you wouldn't though. There was nothing that could make you reveal to Abby the sick and perverted fantasies that lingered in the back of your mind.

That even after she made you come on her strap with such gentle loving thrusts, you laid in her arms thinking about her pulling you across the bed like a sex doll.

Folding your legs into an uncomfortable stretch where she wanted to. Slamming into your tight hole as you claw at her chest. Bending you over and taking everything from you even if you cried from it being too much.

God that would break her heart. You couldn't ask her to take on that burden- that responsibility and fear of getting carried away. Who would want to be treated like that anyways?

It was dirty. It was wrong. And you wouldn't let it take everything- including Abby- away from you.

But you needed it so bad.

It was starting to eat on your nerves. The irritation lived on your skin, clouded in your eyes. Your voice gaining an edge from pent up frustration. Becoming short with Abby when she was as patient as ever, worry written across her face every time you rolled your eyes and turned away from her with an attitude.

So today, you just needed to fix it. Scratch that itch- so that you could put it all behind you.

Abby had gone to run errands. You knew she would be gone for at least an hour.

Usually you would go with her, cling to her side, enjoy the domesticity of things. But it came as no surprise to either of you when you woke up with the attitude of a petulant child this morning. Pressure inside your head and core coming to full hilt- so it was best everyone took some space apart today.

So you stayed home. And as soon as that door closed you opened your laptop. Fell back against the middle of your shared bed. And clicked the first video that looked promising.

The title was a broken conglomeration of words like, slut, fucked, hole, and lesson.

You felt like it was cheating, but you didn't want to think about that sticky controversial line. This was the first and the only time you would do this. The only time.

The video wasn't even that good, but you didn't have time to be picky. Options for good rough lesbian porn were slim, surprise. And like you said, you didn't have time to scourer the internet for the perfect video.

So you focused on the girl. Picturing yourself as her. Picturing Abby fucking you like that. Using her strong thick arms to hold your head against her in a vice grip as she pounds into you. You wished she pulled pained cries out of your body just like you heard from the girl.

It was a quick release. Your fingers focusing on your clit more than anything else-just to get it out of your system. After you came the video kept playing.

The girl's loud wails echoing in the silent room. Skin slapping against skin. You cringed in embarrassment.

Sticky fingers evident of the filthy act moving quickly to shut the laptop so you could pretend like this never happened.

You left it on the night stand. An urgent need to take a shower- clean your skin of the smell of your release and scrub everything new before Abby came back- taking precedent.

By the time you finished your routine, she had walked through the door. Groceries in tow. bracing herself for the storm of emotions following you like a raincloud as you turned the corner.

Instead, to her pleasant surprise, you gravitated towards her side; chipper, rejuvenated. Abby didn't know what to make of it, but she played along. Kissing the top of your head with no clue of what you just did.

Steps still lightly treading around you as if you could snap any moment.

But she was just happy that her girl seemed to feel better. The rest of the evening played as normal. Dinner; snuggling on the couch. She had picked up your favorite slice of cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory too, which you ate guiltily as you leaned against her.

Guilt didn't stop you from falling asleep in her arms like a baby though. And, Like usual, Abby carried you gently to bed.

You woke up just enough to pull the covers over yourself and tug on her wrist to stay. Clingy as ever and needing her close to forget what you had done earlier.

"I can't baby, I've got work to do." Abby whispered, kissing your head in apology.

You whined but rolled over anyways. She turned off the lamp, stepped out the room. She would work quick, she thought to herself, eager to crawl in bed with you. She had just pulled the door to when she realized something.

Her laptop- she left it in the car. In the parking lot. The freezing cold parking lot.

There was no way she was going all the way down there to get her laptop as tired as she was. She could sign in to her accounts on your device though.

She turned on her heel. Tip-toeing back into the room. Picked your laptop off the night stand, and walked back out.

None the wiser she flopped back against the sofa. Legs outstretched on the coffee table, computer in her lap. The screen lit up with your open desktop as she typed in your anniversary date.

"What-?"

A heavy thud against your body woke you from your peaceful sleep. You groaned, rolling over and hoping whatever that was would go away. You felt the cold surface of your laptop in the bed.

"Hey." Abby barked like she was running drills.

You murmured a strangled what, becoming pissed.

Abby didn't care. She raised her voice louder, "Wake the fuck up."

The covers were pulled from your body.

"Abby?" You were wide awake now, worried and confused, "What's wrong-"

She pulled you down the bed, your legs falling off the edge. She caged you underneath her. She looked scary, angered by your sheer audacity.

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what the fuck is wrong."

She flipped open the laptop, the video you had open earlier instantly playing. Filthy moans echoed across the room.

Oh god. Oh god.

You left the tab open. Even at 17 years old you knew better than to leave the tabs open.

You didn’t look at her. Entranced by the video you had handpicked. Burning lust somehow still firing up in your body. Mind reeling as you tried to think how you could pretend to have never seen this before. But your face told all, eyes guilty with recognition.

"Abby..." You whispered her name like you had no words.

She didn't want to hear it even if you did have the words. It felt like a slap in the face as she watched you not even try to deny it.

That was it. That was enough.

With ease your shorts were pulled down your legs. You weren't fighting her yet, out of shock. When her hands reached for your panties with intention you brought your legs up against your body, out of instinct thighs clamping shut, ashamed.

Abby didn't feel like playing those games. She grabbed your ankles, pinning your squirming body down as she pulled your underwear off.

"Abby-no-"

You gasped as she spread your legs. Bare cunt on display.

"Unbelievable." She scoffed.

You were wet. Dripping. The smell of sex and need filling the air.

After a thick swallow of pride you opened your mouth to beg, maybe you could still explain- convince? Beg? You chose the latter, seeing in her eyes what you've always fantasized about seeing.

"Abby- please. I need you."

She threw your legs back down as if disgusted by your request. Caught like this, red handed, and still thinking you could have her. Still thinking you could get what you wanted. She backed away, hand running down her face as she tried to process how wrongly this night ended up.

Her back turned to the silent room. You watched her shoulder blades tense with emotions as the porn played on.

Then in a second she switched. Giving in as she manhandled you across the bed. She'd give you what you wanted, but you were going to get it her way. A lesson that could only be taught this way.

"All this time I thought something was wrong, that I did something wrong."

Her grip on your throat was pure anger. You hated that you made her feel that way. And you hated that her hand threatening your oxygen made you feel the way it did.

She pulled you into her lap. Your back pressed against her chest. Your legs folded in on themselves, still struggling as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening.

Using her weight she wrapped her legs around yours, pulling your thighs apart and keeping you locked in position. Spread thin and visible so you couldn’t hide from the discomfort of being exposed.

"Whole time you just wanted to be fucked like a fucking whore."

Her hand forced your face straight on. The screen burned into your eyes. Video still rolling as if the most humiliating moment of your life wasn't currently unfolding.

She crowded you from all sides, her forehead pressing against your temple with bitterness.

"You're gonna fucking watch that shit since you want it so bad." Abby practically spit it against your ear. Her voice full of resentment.

This wasn't your sweet Abby. You basked in it.

She pulled the laptop between your legs. The vividly bright screen filled the dim room like it was flashing your dirty secret to the world. You whimpered in shame. In need.

A close up of her gaping cunt flashed on the screen. Used and treated like an object. The camera spanned up her body, chest raising and falling. Her face utterly fucked.

A strap entered the frame. Pushing slow into her overworked body. Abby didn't let up, in fact you swore you could feel her grip getting tighter and full of possession the more you watched.

"You wish that was you? Held down and fucked like a dirty slut?” Abby chastised, her hand shaking your head as if to knock some sense into you.

Her interrogation was met with just hurried breathing. Abby could play that game. Her bicep squeezed against your throat. Like a snake curling around its prey.

"I said, do you wish that was you?" She whispered low against your ear.

Your hands wrapped around her arm. The calm and low tone her voice conveyed instilled fear and submission in you. Like you didn't want to disappoint her again.

She let her arm up. Giving you just a seconds breath before she smacked your clit, the sound of her hand cracking across the room.

"Answer me."

Another crack against your clit. It was swollen and neglected, pulsing so hard it started to hurt. You squirmed against her, body running but your mouth begging for more.

"Yes, yes. I wish it was me."

Even if It was the answer she wanted to hear it didn't lessen her touch. She pushed two fingers inside of you, jerking them up and deep, shaking your entire body.

She knew exactly where to find you weak. You clawed at the bed and her arms, so stunned and thrown into the deep end. Not used to this harsh and fast pace you begged for.

The video continued; she was forced face down into the bed, crying with over exaggerated moans as someone pounded into her from behind. The sounds were obscene. It felt sinful to watch. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't look away.

She pulled them out, slapping your clit and taking all her frustration out with each slap.

Her pained cries mixing with yours fed the starving monster in your core. It made your back arch and your hips grind into the air. Out of shame, hot tears swelled in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but Abby noticed.

Abby always noticed.

Her thumb pushed against your cheeks, smearing the tears right back into your skin. The sudden of assault on your clit left you clenching almost painfully.

You needed relief from her so bad. So bad you could cum from the simplest of things, imaging it so vividly. And the video wasn't helping you, the way she took it all so well.

On her knees, fucked ruthlessly, and body suspended as her arms were held behind her back, she let out the most vulgar cries. Each one straight to your burning clit.

Your chest tightened, eyes closing and nose breathing through sharp breaths that raised your chest high. Abby picked up on it immediately, clocking your perversion, your proximity to having sweet release.

“You like to hear her cry?" She taunted, "You want to hear every filthy sound she makes?”

You shook your head, still desperately trying to deny it. Abby was sick of you running from it. It was like you were intentionally provoking her.

So she turned up the volume.

Your cheeks reddened. Entire face twisting with tension as you tried to fight how turned on her cries made you.

They filled the room. You hoped they didn't seep past the walls. This was humiliating. The most demeaning thing that's ever happened to you. Your fingers sank into her skin like she would take it away from you at any moment.

She pulled your head by your hair, forcing your body forwards. Pressing your face so close to the screen that it warmed your cheek.

She towered above you. Your glassy eyes looked up at her as if to beg for mercy.

“Well c’mon you wanna cum so bad, cum.”

You braced yourself on all fours, weakly keeping yourself afloat. The vulgar video flashed against your face. Unable to do anything but stare at Abby's pretty face. Her pretty face that was so overrun with anger because of you.

She reached between your thighs, entire hand grabbing you by every inch of skin. Her fingers moving forcefully against your clit.

“No, Abby, stop-”

But your hips said other wise, raising higher and higher as she rubbed against your tightening clit. Skin slick as ice and warmth making your body sweat.

Then she was inside you, at her own discernment when she pushed in and pulled out her two thick fingers. You whined and pleaded, hoping your own voice would drown out the audio.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You dropped your head down, unable to face it anymore.

Her hand wrapped around your jaw. Forcing your gaze back to the video. She squeezed your cheeks, all your cries now trapped in your closed mouth. Your body shook. Tears drying sticky on your skin along with your spit.

“You're so loud the neighbors will know exactly who you belong to.” Abby taunted, "You'd like that though wouldn't you? Fucking pervert."

You nodded, whining in submission. Her words were harsh, but deserved. And so well received. She scoffed, unable to keep her judgements to herself as she spoke.

“Do you think about me when you get off to this shit? Or just of your own needs?"

Her. Her. Always her. The softness of her tummy that was actually all muscle. The sweat on her skin and heavy breathing after she works out. Her wide back that flexed under the band of her bra. It was selfish. You were so selfish with your needs.

Her hand left your face, wrapping your hair in tangled knots around her fist. She craned your neck uncomfortably, pulling your upper body straight as a pin, still making sure you didn't miss a second of your filthy video. Every minute of her pussy being pounded into. Every shot of her face being drove into the ground.

You were teetering on that edge, first sparks of release unraveling through your body, a promise that was warm and gratifying.

Her finger rubbed violently inside of you, hitting every mark- your back arched- you held your breath- then the computer slammed shut.

The video stopped playing. Abby's fingers gone in an instant. All that was left was your embarrassing pants of air.

“No! No, Abby-wait!”

Your body deflated back into hers. Loop of pleasure completely disrupted. Your voice utterly destroyed. You swallowed and winced from your sore throat. She pulled you off of her, wrangling you with ease before pushing you face down against the bed.

The air knocked out of your chest. It hurt so bad being denied again. Your thighs ached. Clit sore and throbbing.

"You stay the fuck down." Abby whispered cruelly against your neck, her palm hot and heavy in-between your shoulder blades.

You nodded weakly. Understanding completely, not even daring to stop this from where it was going.

Ears intensely listening as Abby removed her pants. The familiar noise of the strap fastening around her hips. The bed dipped from her weight.

She pushed your leg up with force. The tip nudged past your entrance. You twisted your head around to look at her, she hesitated, eyes softening. Your eyes were dark, spaced out, you weakly nodded as if to say, do what you want.

She pushed in with full force. One instant thrust that rendered your body pliant. Your arms laid slack, hands fisting the sheets and comforter she buried you into.

A sharp gasp echoed past your lips. She pulled out all the way. Then slammed back in.

She was punishing you. She wasn't simply fucking you, definitely not making love. Instead making sure you could feel the sting from each drag that she normally distracted you from.

Each thrust a reminder of your filthy thoughts. Each one filled with anger that you wouldn’t just ask her for this.

Her hand snaked around the back of your neck. Pulling you up taut and against her front.

She pulled your hair to the side, hand clamping underneath your jaw. Fingers pressing into your cheeks like she was branding you.

Her head pressed into the back of your neck as she spoke low and pointed.

"You think of this next time." Abby ordered, hips thrusting to pound her words into your brain, "You ask me to fuck you, like a good whore should."

The words she spoke settled deep in the pit of your body. Burning your face with shame as you made your understanding clear.

Her forearm wrapped around your waist, keeping you plaint against her body. She held you like a fuck toy being used for her release. Like a dog claiming its property. You thrived on it.

It ate away at her, the thought of you seeking this out from something else, someone else. She made sure you could feel it in each disciplined stroke.

The drag inside of you burned. Your entrance pulsed and squeezed around her. She used her whole body as she pushed inside of you- the force threatening to knock you over if it wasn't for her abrasive grip.

Irritation boiled over and coursed through her body the longer she thought about it. About you seeking out porn instead of her.

You need to hear her. Her voice. The low groans she would usually let out as she fucked you slow and intimate. But there was none of that.

Just heavy huffs of breath behind you and her hips against your skin.

You cried out her name. She ignored you. You tried again- nothing. You wrapped your hands around her arm, nails digging into her skin.

"I'm close- Fuck. Please- don't stop" You cried out, strangled and begging.

Begging. You never had to beg Abby before.

She usually just gave it to you before you even asked. It occurred to Abby that maybe she had been doing too much of that. Maybe the spoiling was making you a little too spoiled.

Abby stopped. Pulled away from you without warning. Her palm pushed you down by your neck. You tumbled back against the bed. Bottom arching back into her hips as you choked around moans.

Her rough hands pull your cheeks apart. She looked at the still strap sucked around your entrance. The pool of slick and the way your hole stretched. You stayed withering beneath her.

Then she spit. It pooled down your skin. Running slow over your hole and past your lips. You whimpered like an animal, like the pornstar she forced on you earlier. Needing her more than you ever have, on a level that was visceral.

She pulled out. A sharp slap echoed against your bottom. A sound of shock left you. You didn't get to cum. Your clit pulsed angrily.

You laid there. Completely boneless. Used and spent. Satisfaction coursing through your body. A wicked, but weak, smile spread across your face.

Abby looked at your mess. Threw the strap to the side before pushing on knee against the bed. Her thighs spread right in front of your face. You tried to raise yourself, only to be pushed right back down by her heavy hand.

“You fucking watch and you don’t say a fucking word.” Abby ordered, knowing it must have been humiliating for you to be disarmed like this.

And it was. It was humbling and so maddening as you watched her with permission to make her feel good.

Her own fingers already rubbing her reddened clit.

You cried against the mattress as she forced you to watch. Pain still soaring through from being denied. Y

ou wanted to touch her so bad. She wouldn’t let you. Instead using her slick to rub faster. Her hips tightening and bucking up into her own hand as she reached her peak.

Using your beaten down body as her own personal porn. Power making her feel higher on a release than she ever has before. Control and dominance feeling like a natural and intuitive position for her.

And she looked at you, who still stared with adoration at her despite the nasty words she degraded you with.

Soft gasps of satisfaction left her lips. Your hands fisted the sheets in restraint as you watched her drip into her own hand.

Her sticky fingers not missing a beat she grasped your face. Rolling you over and dragging her slick and cum across your cheek and lips. You cried with need as you tried to chase her hand. Wanting to show her just how could you could be. That you could lick every drop for her.

She came close. Her breath on your lips as she gave you one last lesson to remember, "Whores who watch porn don't get to touch their girlfriends."

She pushed you away, stepping back like she was assessing the damage. Letting her words sink in as you struggled to push back tears and whimpers.

Then she walked away- returning back with a warm wet hand towel like the Abby you've always known.

"You okay?" Abby leaned over your body.

She still sounded pissed. Tense. But she also loved you. She wiped down your tear and cum coated cheeks tenderly. Flipping the towel and cleaning your thighs and bottom. Skin still stinging from the abuse it took on.

You nodded eagerly until you felt like your head was going to fall off, "Amazing."

She thew the towel to the side. Stripping off her shirt she never bothered to take off and pulling you up from the mattress.

"Come on, we'll talk in the morning." Abby said as she guided you back under the covers.

You wrapped yourself on top of her chest.

"Abby?" You said, voice drowsy.

She hummed in response, eyes still wide towards the ceiling.

"I love you." You kissed her collarbone. You needed her to know.

"I love you." She responded, kissing the top of your head. She did know.

You held her hand, staying awake as long as you could to graze her thumb before you both drifted off.

warnings : fem!reader x cassie . nsfw , mdni . strap use (r!receiving) . manhandling . spanking . orgasm control / denial . light restraint (wrist held) . overstimulation . slight dacryphilia .

you can find the request here

cassie’s just off a brutal shift, when she walks through the door she drops her bag by the couch without a word. you’re on the kitchen counter eating leftovers while scrolling on your phone, legs dangling, and the second she sees you her whole face softens in that way it only does when it’s just the two of you.

she crosses the room in three steps, hands finding your thighs, sliding up slow like she’s memorizing the shape of you. “hey,” she says, voice low and rough from talking over monitors all day. you set the phone down, tilt your head, and she leans in to kiss you. it starts soft, almost careful, but then her tongue slips past your lips and everything shifts. you feel the way her shoulders relax under your palms, the quiet sigh she lets out against your mouth. her fingers trace little circles on your skin while she kisses you deeper, slower, like she has all the time in the world now that the hospital is miles away.

you wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. her hands move up your sides, under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. “missed you,” she murmurs against your mouth. “all day i kept thinking about coming home to this.” the words are quiet but heavy, like she’s been carrying them through every code and every long hallway. you feel her heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong, and it makes something warm bloom low in your belly.

you laugh softly, breathless already. “you’re such a sap when you’re tired.”

“when it comes to you? yeah,” she says, nipping your bottom lip. she lifts you off the counter like you weigh nothing, carries you to the bedroom with your legs still locked around her. the hallway light spills in behind you, casting long shadows across the bed. she sets you down gently, but doesn’t let go, keeps kissing you while her fingers work the buttons on your jeans. each kiss drags a little longer, her mouth moving to your jaw, your neck, the spot just below your ear that always makes your breath hitch. she peels your clothes off piece by piece, careful and patient, like she’s unwrapping something precious. when your shirt hits the floor she pauses, just looking at you in the low light, eyes tracing every curve like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

when you’re both naked she steps back for a second, just looking. her eyes are dark, pupils blown. “turn over,” she says, not a request exactly, but gentle enough that it feels like one. you do, knees and forearms sinking into the mattress. she runs a hand down your spine, slow, fingers tracing every knob of your vertebrae. “god, look at you.” her palm is warm, and it leaves a trail of heat everywhere it touches. she keeps stroking your back, down to the curve of your ass, squeezing gently, like she can’t stop touching you.

you glance back over your shoulder. she’s already buckling the harness, the silicone cock jutting out proud. she’s done this enough times that her movements are practiced, efficient. she pauses to squirt lube into her palm, warming it between her fingers before she touches you. her hand slides between your legs first, fingers circling your clit until you’re rocking back against her, whining softly. she takes her time here, rubbing slow circles, then dipping lower to feel how ready you are, spreading the wetness up and around until everything feels slick, warm and aching.

“you’re so wet for me already,” she mutters, almost to herself. “you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?”

“yeah,” you breathe. she leans over you, chest pressing to your back, lips brushing your ear. “you’re doing so good for me.” the praise hits like a spark. she lines herself up, the blunt head nudging against you, and pushes in slow. you both groan at the stretch. she doesn’t rush, lets you adjust, one hand braced on the mattress beside your head, the other gripping your hip tight enough that her fingers dig in. she rocks forward inch by inch, pausing every time you tense, whispering soft little “breathe for me, baby” until you’re fully seated on the strap and trembling.

when she’s fully inside she stills, breathing hard. “god, you feel so good.” you push back a little, testing. “move,” you say. “please.”

she starts slow, shallow thrusts, letting you feel every inch sliding out and back in. the bed creaks under you. her hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair, not pulling hard yet, just holding. “that’s it,” she murmurs. “just like that.” she keeps the rhythm easy for a long time, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep, letting you feel the drag, the fullness, the way your body opens up for her over and over. each thrust makes your toes curl, makes little sounds slip out of you that you can’t hold back. she listens to every one, adjusting the angle until you’re gasping louder, hips twitching back to meet her.

she eventually gets more impatient, hips snapping harder, her grip on your hair tightens, yanking back just enough to arch your spine. you gasp, loud, and she growls low in her throat.

“you like that?” she asks, voice rough. “feel good when i pull you like this?” you nod as much as you can with her hand in your hair. “yes… fuck, cassie.” she laughs, short and warm, and starts really moving, pounding into you with deep, deliberate strokes that make your arms shake. her free hand leaves your hip and smacks your ass once, then again on the other side, heat blooming under her palm. the sting fades into warmth that spreads everywhere, making you clench around her harder.

“god, you’re so tight,” she groans, letting go of your hair to grab both hips instead. she yanks you back onto her cock with every thrust. your knees slide wider on the sheets and she follows, one hand sliding up to press between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down into the mattress so your ass is higher, perfect angle. “stay just like that,” she orders, voice steady even though she’s breathing hard.

you moan into the pillow, fists twisting in the sheets. she’s relentless, hips slapping against you loud enough that the sound fills the whole room. every thrust drags the strap against that spot inside you and her fingers dig bruises into your hips, pulling you back harder each time. she keeps that pace for what feels like forever, pulling you onto her over and over, the wet sound of it mixing with your moans and her quiet grunts. “you’re taking me so well,” she pants. “god, you feel incredible.” she reaches around without slowing down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast. your legs start shaking and she just holds you tighter, keeping you exactly where she wants you.

“cassie, i’m- fuck, i’m close,” you choke out. she leans over you again, chest to your back, teeth scraping your shoulder. “not yet,” she says. “hold on for me, baby.” she slows just enough to torture you, grinding deep and slow, circling her hips so the strap rubs everywhere inside. you whimper, trying to push back, but her hand on your lower back keeps you pinned. the pressure is constant, perfect, dragging against every sensitive spot until your whole body is buzzing. “please,” you beg. “i need it.” she chuckles against your skin. “i know you do, sweetheart.”

she keeps that slow grind for what feels like forever, whispering sweet praise in your ear the whole time. “you feel so good for me, baby. you’re so perfect.” every circle of her hips makes you shudder, makes your breath catch. she kisses your shoulder, your neck, anywhere she can reach without losing the rhythm. tears starts pricking in your eyes from how intense it is, how full you feel, how her voice wraps around you like another layer of touch. finally she straightens up, grips your hips again, and starts fucking you harder. her hand cracks down on your ass one more time and that’s it, you come hard, walls pulsing around the strap, crying out her name into the pillow. the orgasm rolls through you in long waves, your thighs shaking, vision blurring, and she never once stops moving, just fucks you through every single pulse like she’s chasing it with you.

but she doesn’t stop. doesn’t pull out. doesn’t even slow down all the way. she just keeps thrusting through it, working you through the aftershocks while you tremble and gasp. “one more, baby,” she says, voice wrecked. “i need more from you, please.” she pulls your hips back even harder, angling deeper, and you’re so sensitive now that every slide feels like electricity shooting up your spine. she keeps the strokes long and steady, letting you feel every inch again and again while your body tries to settle and can’t. “cassie, oh my god,” you moan, voice hoarse.

she reaches forward and grabs your wrists, pulling them behind your back and holding them there with one strong hand while the other keeps your hips in place. your chest is still pressed to the bed, arms pinned, and ass up as she fucks into you with long, punishing strokes. “you’re mine,” she says, voice thick with emotion. the new angle has you seeing stars, the strap hitting perfect every single time. your second orgasm is already building fast, too fast, and she can feel it in the way you clench around her.

“gonna come again already?” she asks, breathless. she lets go of your wrists just to wrap her arm around your waist, hauling your upper body up so your back is against her chest. she keeps one hand between your legs, fingers on your clit, and the other across your collarbone, holding you tight while she thrusts up into you. you can feel her heartbeat against your spine, her breath hot on your neck, the sweat sliding between your bodies. “come on, baby,” she whispers right against your ear. “i want to feel you come again.”

you’re shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks from how overwhelming it is, but it feels so good you can’t stop. “i’m coming, fuck, cassie, i’m-” the orgasm rips through you even harder than the first, your whole body locking up, a broken moan tearing out of you. she fucks you through every pulse, hips stuttering, grinding deep and desperate. “that’s it, that’s my girl,” she pants. “you’re so perfect.” she keeps moving through the whole thing, drawing it out until you’re whimpering, oversensitive and still coming apart in her arms.

only when you’ve gone limp in her arms does she finally slow, easing you both down to the mattress. she stays inside you for a long moment, just breathing with you, kissing the back of your neck soft and slow. then she carefully pulls out, unbuckles the harness with shaky hands, and tosses it aside. she rolls you over, pulls you into her chest, arms wrapping around you like she never wants to let go.

“you okay?” she asks, thumb brushing your cheekbone, her voice soft.

you nod, still catching your breath, curling into her. “i’m okay.”

warnings : fem!reader x cassie mckay . nsfw , mdni . oral (r!receiving) . fingering . (r!receiving) . marking (r!receiving) . minor injury (finger cut, blood mention) .

synopsis : after a long shift and a small kitchen accident, cassie slips into doctor mode to patch you up. but the way she takes care of you turns into something much less clinical and a lot more intimate.

notes : just a silly idea that came to mind and had to be written asap. i need this woman sb sigh

you’d had a long day, the kind where everything at work dragged on forever, emails piling up and your boss nitpicking every little thing. by the time you got home to the apartment, all you wanted was to throw together a quick dinner and crash on the couch with cassie. the place smelled like the lavender candle you’d lit earlier that morning. you kicked off your shoes by the door, padding into the kitchen in your socks, the cool tile floor a relief against your tired feet. the fridge hummed softly as you pulled out carrots, onions, and some chicken, figuring a simple stir-fry would do the trick.

cassie had texted you she’d be home soon, her shift at the hospital running a bit over as usual. you heard the door click open maybe twenty minutes later, the jingle of her keys hitting the bowl on the entry table. “hey, baby,” she said, voice already carrying that tired rasp from yelling orders in the er all day. you glanced over your shoulder, smiling as she shrugged off her jacket, still in her scrubs that always looked so good on her, the fabric a little wrinkled from the chaos of her shift. her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands escaping around her face, and she had that focused look, like she was still half in work mode. she kissed your cheek, then dropped her bag by the couch and flopped down, letting out a deep sigh that made her shoulders slump.

“rough one?” you asked, starting to chop the carrots on the cutting board, the knife making sharp thuds against the wood. she nodded, rubbing her eyes. “yeah, non-stop. had a kid come in with a broken arm, then a car accident pile-up. barely sat down.” her voice was low, that gravelly edge from exhaustion kicking in, and it sent a little shiver down your spine. you loved when she talked about her day like that, all professional but casual, like she was debriefing with you. she stretched her legs out on the coffee table, the scrubs pulling tight over her thighs, and you had to force yourself to focus on the veggies instead of staring.

you kept chopping, the rhythmic slice of the knife calming in its own way, the crisp snap of the carrots breaking under the blade. the onion next, its sharp scent hitting the air immediately, making your eyes water a tad. you wiped them with the back of your hand, blinking hard. cassie glanced over from the couch, her phone in hand as she scrolled through whatever - probably emails or some medical article. “need help?” she offered, but you shook your head. “i got it. you just relax.” she hummed in response, that soft sound vibrating through the room, and you felt a warmth settle in your chest. living together like this was nice, the little routines you’d built, her coming home to you cooking, sharing the space that felt so much like home now.

but then the knife slipped, just a bit too much pressure on a stubborn carrot, and the blade nicked your finger, slicing clean through the skin. “shit,” you hissed, dropping the knife with a clatter on the counter, blood blooming bright red on your fingertip. it stung sharp and immediate, like a paper cut on steroids, throbbing with each heartbeat. you grabbed a paper towel, pressing it against the cut, but the blood soaked through quick, warm and sticky between your fingers.

cassie’s head snapped up at the sound, her eyes locking on you instantly. “what’s wrong?” she asked, already on her feet, crossing the room in a few strides. she took your hand without hesitation, peeling back the paper towel to inspect the damage, her touch cool and sure. “okay, let me see… how deep?” her voice dropped into that low and raspy tone, all business but with that underlying softness she reserved for patients, and you.

you tried to play it cool, but the way she held your hand, thumb pressing lightly on the side to stop the bleeding, made your pulse pick up for reasons that had nothing to do with the cut. “it’s not bad, just clumsy,” you muttered, but she shook her head, leading you over to the stool by the counter. “sit,” she commanded gently, hands pressing down on your shoulders, and you obeyed, perching on the edge as she turned to grab the first aid kit from the upper cabinet. the stool was a bit wobbly, creaking under your weight, and the counter felt cold against your elbow as you leaned on it.

she pulled up another stool right in front of you, knees bumping yours as she sat close, her scrubs brushing your bare legs since you were in shorts. the fabric was soft, worn from washes, and you could feel the warmth of her through it. “alright, first things first, we gotta clean it,” she said, her voice that perfect mix of calm and authoritative, the rasp scratching just right. she turned on the faucet, testing the water temperature with her free hand before guiding yours under the stream. the cool rush hit the cut, making it burn fresh, and you sucked in a breath. the water swirled pink down the drain.

“easy, breathe slow,” she murmured, her face close to yours as she watched the wound rinse clean. her breath was warm on your skin, carrying a hint of the mint gum she chewed during shifts. “it’s gonna sting, but we need to get any dirt out… you’re doing fine.” that voice, god, it wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing but commanding, the same way she’d talk you through it in bed. you shifted a little on the stool, thighs pressing together unconsciously, the heat building low in your belly as you thought about her whispering similar words, guiding you with that same steady patience.

she shut off the water, patting your hand dry with a fresh towel, the soft cotton absorbing the droplets, her movements precise and gentle. “looks clean. no need for stitches, lucky you,” she said with a small smile, but her eyes were focused, determination shining through as she tore open an antiseptic wipe with her teeth. the sharp alcohol scent filled the space between you, stinging your nose before she even touched you. “this’ll be the worst part. hold still for me, okay?” she warned, and you nodded, biting your lip as she swiped the wipe over the cut. it burned, a hot flash racing up your arm, making you flinch, but she held your hand steady, her grip firm yet comforting.

“almost done,” she coaxed, voice dropping even lower, that rasp like velvet over gravel. her thumb stroked the back of your hand in slow circles, distracting you from the pain, and you focused on her soft skin instead. the kitchen light cast shadows on her face, highlighting the lines of exhaustion around her eyes, but she looked so in her element, and so pretty. it was hot, the way she switched into this mode, all compassionate and unflappable. your breath came a little shorter, not from the sting anymore, but from how close she was, how her knee pressed against your inner thigh as she leaned in.

she blew gently on the cut to ease the burn, her lips pursed, cool air tingling over your skin, and you had to swallow hard, the sensation shooting straight down. “better?” she asked, glancing up, her eyes meeting yours, and there was that knowing spark, she could read you like a chart. you nodded, but your voice betrayed you, coming out husky. “yeah… thanks.” she smirked faintly, grabbing the antibiotic cream and squeezing a bit onto her finger, rubbing it in with light pressure. the cream was cool, slick, easing the throb, but her touch lingered, fingertips tracing the edges of the wound unnecessarily, sending sparks up your arm.

“bandaid time,” she announced, unwrapping one and securing it snug around your finger, pressing down to make sure it stuck. her hands were warm from holding yours, and she didn’t pull away immediately, instead bringing your finger to her lips to plant a soft kiss over the bandaid. “all fixed.” you were squirming on the stool, the wood hard under you, trying to ignore the ache between your legs, but she noticed. of course she noticed, her eyes dropping to where your thighs clenched.

“something else hurting?” she teased softly with a small chuckle. her hands settled on your knees, thumbs rubbing idle patterns, pushing your legs apart just enough to make room. the counter dug into your back as you leaned against it, heart hammering. “cass,” you breathed, but it sounded needy, whiny. she chuckled low in her throat, leaning in until her nose brushed yours. “tell me,” she murmured, breath mingling with yours, mint and her natural scent overwhelming.

“you… in those scrubs, being all doctor-y.” you admitted, hands finding her waist, fingers bunching the fabric. she grinned as she hooked her fingers under your shirt hem, tugging it up. “yeah? like when i take care of you?” her voice was low and intimate, and you nodded, lifting your arms to let her pull the shirt off, the cool air hitting your skin, nipples hardening instantly. she tossed it aside, eyes raking over you, then her hands were on your shorts, unbuttoning them slow.

“up,” she said, tapping your hip, and you lifted, letting her slide them down with your underwear, the material dragging over your thighs, leaving you bare on the stool. the wood was smooth but sticky now from your arousal, and she knelt down, knees hitting the tile with a soft thud. she looked up at you, hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, the cool air teasing your exposed skin. “gonna make you feel better,” she promised, voice gentle but with that commanding undertone, and you threaded your fingers in her hair, pushing her bangs out of the way.

she leaned in, breath hot against your center, making you twitch, then her tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, tasting you. the first contact was electric, wet heat dragging up, and you gasped, head falling back against the cabinet with a thunk. she hummed approval, the vibration buzzing through you, and started in earnest. tongue circling your clit, then flattening to lick broad stripes, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet kitchen. her fingers dug into your thighs, nails biting just enough to ground you, the slight pain mixing with pleasure as she sucked gently, pulling a moan from your throat.

“fuck, cassie,” you panted, tugging her hair, and she glanced up, eyes dark and intense, mouth glistening. “too much?” she asked, pulling back a fraction, strings of saliva connecting her to you, but you shook your head. “no, keep going.” she dove back, tongue probing deeper now, fucking into you slow before returning to your clit, swirling faster. the kitchen smelled like dinner half-prepped and the faint musk of your arousal, her scrubs scratched lightly against your calves as she shifted closer.

you were building embarrassingly quick, thighs quivering around her head, the stool groaning under your shifting weight. she could tell, murmuring against you, “come for me, baby. i’ve got you.” the words vibrated right to your core, her voice coaxing pushing you over, and you came with a silent cry, body arching, waves crashing through you. she licked you through it, gentle laps until you were oversensitive, pushing at her shoulders with a whimper.

she stood up slow, wiping her chin with the back of her sleeve, that satisfied smirk playing on her lips as her eyes locked onto yours. she didn’t say a word at first, just reached out and grabbed your waist, her fingers digging in just enough to make you feel grounded, pulling you off the stool with ease. your legs were shaky from what she’d just done, but she steadied you, turning you around to face the counter. the granite was ice cold against your forearms as you braced yourself, the shock of it against your heated skin making you gasp softly, goosebumps racing up your arms. you pressed back into her without thinking, feeling the warmth of her body mold against yours.

“lean forward for me,” she murmured low in your ear, her voice that perfect rasp, like gravel wrapped in silk, sending shivers straight down your spine. her hand slid up your back, pressing you down just a little more, arching you perfectly, while her other hand trailed down your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there. you could feel her breath hot on your neck, her chest rising and falling against you, syncing with your own ragged inhales. she kicked your feet a bit wider apart with her foot, opening you up more, and you bit your lip, the anticipation building like a coil in your gut.

“god, look at you,” she whispered, her fingers finally dipping between your legs, circling your entrance slow, collecting the wetness that was still dripping. the touch was light, almost torturous, making you whine and push back against her hand. “so wet for me. just from me patching you up?” her voice was full of praise, that low rumble vibrating through you, and you nodded, head dropping forward as her fingers kept teasing, dipping in just the tip before pulling back.

“please, cassie,” you breathed, voice needy, nails already scratching lightly at the counter for something to hold onto. she chuckled softly against your shoulder, nipping the skin there gently, her free hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in lazy circles. “patience, baby. i’ve got you. just let me make you feel good.” she pressed a kiss to the spot she’d nipped, soothing it with her tongue, and finally, her jaw went slack as she slid two fingers inside you easy, curling them deep right away. the stretch was perfect, filling you up, and you moaned, arching back into her which made her let out a ragged breath.

“fuck… yes,” she groaned, her own breath hitching as she felt you clench around her. she set a slow rhythm at first, thrusting in and out deliberate, her palm grinding lightly against your clit with each push forward. the kitchen echoed with the wet sounds of it, mixing with your gasps and her soft grunts. her body pressed closer, her scrubs rubbing against your skin, the fabric warm and textured, making every movement feel more intimate.

“you’re doing so well, taking my fingers like this,” she praised, voice raspy and close, her lips brushing your ear. “right there, yeah?” she curled her fingers again, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes, and you whimpered, nodding frantically. “yes, right there, don’t stop.” she sped up a little, her thrusts firmer now, thumb finding your clit and rubbing steady circles that had your thighs trembling. her other hand pinched your nipple gently, rolling it between her fingers, sending jolts straight to your core.

“oh, you like that, huh?” she rasped, biting your neck lightly again, then licking over the mark. “tell me how it feels, sweetheart. i want to hear you.” her words were like fuel, making the heat build faster, and you pushed back harder against her, meeting her thrusts. “feels so good, cass. you’re making me… fuck, i’m so close already.” she hummed in approval, her breaths coming ragged now, hot against your skin as she leaned over you more, her weight pinning you just right. “that’s my girl. you’re so tight… come on, give me another one. i know you can.”

the rhythm built relentless, her fingers hooking deeper with each thrust, thumb pressing harder on your clit, circling faster. sweat beaded on your forehead, the counter cool under your arms contrasting the fire everywhere else. her free hand left your breast to tangle in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, exposing your neck for her to kiss and suck, leaving little marks that stung sweet. “such a good girl for me, hm?” she praised, her voice steady even as her own hips ground against you subtly, like she was getting off on this too. “you’re gonna come so hard for me, aren’t you?”

“yes… fuck, cassie,” you said, voice breaking as the pressure mounted, coiling tight. she thrust harder, the wet squelches louder, her palm slapping against you with each push. “that’s it... i’ve got you, baby. you can come for me.” her words pushed you over the edge, clenching hard around her fingers, vision blurring white as you came again, louder this time, body shaking uncontrollably. waves crashed through you, toes curling, and she held you through it, murmuring praises the whole time - “so beautiful, fuck, you’re perfect” - her fingers slowing but not stopping until you were whimpering, oversensitive.

she pulled out gently, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, pulling you upright and turning you to face her. your legs were jelly, but she held you close, kissing you. “you okay?” she asked softly, thumb stroking your cheek, her voice soft. you nodded, nuzzling into her neck, the afterglow humming through you.

💌 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇!𝗈𝗇𝖾-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖢𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖾 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

oral (cassie!receiving!), fingering (f!receiving, cassie!receiving), clit play, mentions of messiness (towards the end), face sitting, masturbation (mentioned in past tense), praise, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby), wc. 6,180 18+ MEN & MDNI

a/n: So....this isn't really a Valentine's Day one-shot to be honest, but it also is because I felt bad I didn't upload on Valentine's Day, so here you go! A very, very, very late Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours, lmao. Anyyywayyyyy, I meant to upload this yesterday, but I got sick (I still am sick to be honest), but yeah! This is based on an ask I got, here: sex pollen request so I hope it held up to their standards!!

Valentine’s Day wasn’t for you, particularly. 

You didn’t have a Valentine’s, and you don’t think you ever would. Sad truth, really, but that’s the way it was. You didn’t think much about it other than when February 14th rolled around. 

The lobby was drowning in pink balloons and cellophane-wrapped bouquets, volunteers smiling like they weren’t actively blocking foot traffic. Meanwhile, the morning shift looked like it had been dragged through gravel. Everyone wanted to go home on time. Everyone had somewhere to be.

So to say you were unaffected by working on the National Holiday wasn’t a lie. Truly, you could’ve cared less. Everyone else, however, was complaining all day. You heard it first from Matteo, ‘I hope we get off at a good time tonight because boooyyyy do I have something planned for me and my girl.’ and then Mel, ‘I just hope I can spend it with my sister’ (which you can’t really get mad at her for) Trinity came next ‘If we don’t get done at a decent time tonight and I have to miss my date with Garcia I swear to god all of you are burning in the pits of hell tomorrow’, etc. etc. 

You heard it in every conversation drifting through the trauma bay: “—picked up flowers on the way in—”, “—he better not forget this year—”, “—we’re doing fondue—”, “—I hate Valentine’s Day, but she loves it—”

Needless to say, everyone on the morning shift needed and wanted to get out at a good enough time to be able to spend Valentine’s Day with whoever they had made plans with. So you were running around all day, making sure everything was tidy, patients were charted correctly, nothing was out of place, and the place was spotless, so that when the night crew came in, everyone could clock out and get the hell out of there. If people had dinner plans, surprise getaways, rose petals waiting at home, they deserved to make it on time. You could cover an extra hour. Two, if you had to.

You just wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly as well. With patients coming in with rose thorns in their fingers, candle wax burns, chest pains from bad seafood, an allergic reaction from discount chocolate, and even someone slicing their thumb trying to open a bottle of wine with a knife after they ‘saw it in a movie once,’ all of that good stuff…nothing was going to get done. 

You were elbow-deep in supply inventory when the first Valentine’s Day comment of the morning floated across the nurses’ station.

“Dinner reservation at eight,” one of the residents said, grinning at his phone. “She wouldn’t tell me where, so I’m guessing somewhere expensive.”

Another nurse groaned dramatically. “Must be nice. My girlfriend booked us one of those candlelit pottery classes.”

You snorted quietly to yourself as you scribbled down the count for gauze packs.

“Hey,” someone nudged your shoulder. “You doing anything tonight?”

You glanced up.

It was Cassie.

Cassie McKay.

Sharp eyes. Steady hands. That slightly crooked half-smile that always made you feel like you were in on a private joke. She leaned against the counter, arms folded loosely across her scrub top. She looked tired, faint shadows under her eyes, but she still radiated that grounded, solid energy that made patients trust her instantly.

“Working,” you said simply.

Her eyebrow arched. “All night?”

“If that means you get out of here before seven? Yeah.”

For a moment, something softened in her expression. “That’s nice of you.”

You shrugged. “It’s just another Saturday.”

Except it wasn’t really. Because everyone else had somewhere to be.

The only person you hadn’t heard complain was Cassie. 

Doctor McKay just head nodded and smiled when someone talked about their plans, and when asked about the ones she had, she just shrugged, saying, ‘I only have a date with me, my bathtub, and a generous amount of chocolate-covered strawberries.’

At least she had more of a plan than you did. 

When you got home, your great Valentine’s Day plan was to sit down with a glass of white wine and watch Love, Rosie, which really was like every other Saturday night. But truthfully, you had always wanted to know what she did on Valentine’s Day. If Doctor Cassie McKay had an admirer. 

You’ve had a crush on her for quite some time now, but thankfully, it’s never been obvious, especially not to her directly. When you went home at night, all your thoughts would be filled with her as your hand moved between your thighs to satiate the ache there. 

By mid-afternoon, the department was running at a steady pace. Cases to keep everyone moving, none of the paperwork piling up, things were constantly being stocked, etc. 

The storage room light flickered when you pushed the door open with your shoulder, already juggling a clipboard, a half-dead pen, and the mental checklist of things you still needed to finish. The air in here always smelled faintly chemical—cleaners, plastic packaging, dust that never quite settled.

The overhead light flickered faintly as you entered, and you had to turn on your phone flashlight to see better. You don’t have terrible eyesight to begin with, but the on-and-off flickering light makes it harder to see the imprinted letters on everything. 

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself. “Syringe packs, saline, and—” Once you found what you needed, you stepped toward the back shelf to turn around in the small space, and the fabric of your elbow caught on something. 

A small, unmarked glass vial tipped. It hit the floor and shattered into a million glass pieces before a faint golden dust burst upward like sunlight through smoke. You coughed immediately when it reached your nose. “What the—” The air filled with the smell of something… floral. Sweet and thick. Not like hospital disinfectant. More like warm honey and overripe fruit.

The label fragment near your shoe read: SEZ Pollen – Research / Respiratory Study.

“Great,” you whispered hoarsely. “That sounds safe.”

You covered your mouth instinctively and reached for paper towels, but your head felt oddly light. Your skin prickled.

The storage door opened, then suddenly, the room was invaded by more light.

“Everything okay in—” Cassie stopped mid-sentence. Her gaze dropped to the floor. Then to you. The golden haze hung between you like suspended sunlight. “What did you spill?” she asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

“I don’t know,” you coughed. “Here,” you say, pointing to the broken shard with the small handwritten label. 

She grabbed gloves and crouched to help clean the shards. “You inhaled that.”

“So did you,” you pointed out.

She paused. Right. The scent grew warmer. Heavier. Your pulse started to feel… louder. In your ears. In your throat. Cassie’s jaw flexed slightly. “Feels weird in here,” she muttered. “Come on, let’s clean this up. It’s almost time to go home, anyway.” 

The room suddenly felt too small. Too warm. Your scrub top clung to your skin in a way you were hyper-aware of. Cassie shifted closer to sweep the glass toward you — her knee brushing yours, and it made your skin sing. It shouldn’t have felt like that. It was just a brief contact.

Just fabric against fabric.

But your breath hitched nonetheless. Her head snapped up at the sound. The golden dust had mostly settled now, but the air still hummed. Your heart was racing. Your palms tingled. “You okay?” she asked. Her voice was lower than usual.

You swallowed. “Of course, this is happening today,” you muttered.

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day?” Cassie asked dryly.

“Because everyone’s already in a mood. If we have to fill out paperwork, we’re never leaving.”

Cassie sighed. “Don’t remind me. I have reservations at six.”

Your hand paused. “Oh.”

She noticed. Of course, she noticed. “It’s just—” she shrugged, a little too casual. “It’s fine. It’s not even that serious.”

You forced your focus back to the glass. “Yeah. Totally.”

Something prickled at the back of your throat. You coughed again, harder this time. Your eyes watered slightly.

Cassie sniffed. “Okay, is it just me or does it feel… warm in here?”

“It’s a storage closet,” you said. “It’s always warm.”

“No, like—” She stopped, pressing her fingers briefly to her temple. “I don’t know. I’m just—”

“Irritated?” you offered.

She blinked at you. “Yes.”

“Me too.”

You both looked at the powder. “Oh,” you both said at the same time.

Cassie straightened slowly. “You think this stuff does something?”

“It’s pollen,” you said defensively. “Pollen makes you sneeze.”

“Yeah. And sometimes hallucinate. Or die.”

“That’s bees,” you shot back. 

She stared at you. “That’s when they sting you.” 

“No, it’s not. I saw it on the news once.” 

“I assure you, you didn’t.” 

“Okay, fine, asshole,” you snapped.

Her eyebrows lifted. You felt it then—sharp, unnecessary annoyance blooming in your chest like static electricity. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m literally just looking at you.” Your heart was beating too fast. Your skin felt too tight. Cassie exhaled slowly. “Sorry. Don’t know where that came from.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we should step outside.”

“Maybe you should stop implying I don’t know basic science.”

Her mouth fell open. “I didn’t— You’re the one who brought up bees!”

“Because you said die!”

“Oh my god.” Cassie sighs, her head falling into her hands as you watch her pace around the small area. Then, at the same time, you both started laughing.

But it wasn’t something that came from the belly or after something funny happened. It’s hysterical. 

Cassie dragged a hand down her face. “Okay. We definitely inhaled that.”

“Fantastic.”

She nudged your shoulder with hers. “At least we’re both going down.”

You swallowed. “Comforting.”

You finished cleaning in tense silence, sealing the broken glass and powder remnants in a biohazard bag. 

“Let’s go.” She grabs your arm, guiding you from the room and back into the main part of the ER. But you can’t keep your mind focused as she touches you, and you want to reach out and touch her. Her hand moves from your arm to your shoulder and then down to your forearm like she can’t get enough. The noise of the unit also hits you like a wall. Had it always been this loud today?

It sounds like fifty different phones are ringing. Someone is arguing about discharge paperwork. A volunteer carries a heart-shaped balloon that smacks directly into your face as you walk by.

You jerked back. “Can we not?”

Cassie smiled at the volunteer and excused your behavior. “Careful,” she says, turning to you, “You can be mad at me all you want, but don’t take it out on the decorations.”

“I’m serious,” you said, rubbing your forehead. “Everything is too loud.”

She looked the same—jaw tight, movements sharper than usual. “Okay,” she said. “New plan. We survive the next hour. No snapping at attendings, nurses, or patients. Then we go home.”

“Deal.”

But you only lasted exactly eleven minutes.

It started with a nurse asking for a chart you had already handed over. Then a monitor alarm that wouldn’t stop beeping as you were trying to talk to a patient. Then Cassie correcting you on a dosage calculation that you were absolutely sure was right.

“Are you kidding me?” you snapped.

“I’m literally just trying to help.”

“It doesn’t feel like help. It feels like you’re breathing down my neck instead.” You didn’t see it, but Robby, Yolanda, and the other people in the room all looked at each other as you guys argued. 

She recoiled slightly, hurt flashing across her face before irritation replaced it. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

“You don’t have to be condescending.”

“I’m not being—” She stopped herself, exhaling sharply. “Y’know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Robby can be your new attending.” She says, before walking out of the surgical room, throwing her protective scrub in the trash. 

You pressed your lips together and just shook your head, but followed her directions anyway. After that, you had excused yourself to one of the single bathrooms on the floor, locking the door and pressing yourself against the wall to try and cool yourself down. 

But it didn’t help, and as your hand slowly sank down to try and ease the buzzing pang of your cunt, you felt like you could breathe again. It felt so good, maybe too good. You tried to keep yourself quiet as you shoved your fist into your mouth. 

Instantly, when you reach your clit and circulate the small bud, it feels like someone has injected ice-cold water into your veins. You let out a moan of relief behind skin between clenched teeth. 

But the moment was soon interrupted with a bang on the door. It startled you, and you immediately took your hands out of your pants and felt the immediate heat rush back into your system. 

When it was finally time to leave, you felt not only exhausted but also your nerves felt like they’re on fire, there’s a horrible ache between your legs that you’ve been trying not to deal with until you get home, it feels like your scrubs are suffocating, and you can’t help but think about Cassie and how you don’t want to keep your hands off of her. 

You couldn’t find her after work, which means she must’ve clocked out early. Everyone was walking on eggshells around you, and you felt bad, but what were you to do? You can’t help it, literally. It’s like the words just come out of you. It’s another problem with what seems to be an ever-growing list of causes of this powder/pollen. 

Speaking of Cassie, you’re halfway to your car when your phone buzzes. You almost ignore it, actually. You just want to get home and try to quell the heat under your skin and the buzzing between your legs. 

But the keyword is ‘almost’. 

Cassie: Where are you?

Your stomach flips in a way that has nothing to do with the lingering pollen-induced irritability.

You: Parking garage. Why?

The typing bubble appears instantly. Disappears. Comes back.

Cassie: Don’t leave, come find me instead.

You stare at the screen and have to take a few minutes to figure out how to respond. Should you even respond? She was pissing you off the whole day. Well, everyone was really.

You: What if I don't want to?

A full thirty seconds pass before the grey dots pop back up again. 

Cassie: Unused west wing. Level 3. Please.

Please.

Please? That’s certainly new. Especially from Cassie McKay

However, you don’t even think about it. You turn around and head back into the hospital, up to the West Wing. 

The west wing has been “temporarily closed for renovations” for almost a year, which in hospital terms means: stripped, quiet, and forgotten. The lights are dimmer here; half of them are turned off to conserve power. Your footsteps echo too loudly against the tile.

It’s colder than the rest of the building. Or maybe you’re just not.

Your skin still feels off—too tight, too sensitive. Like your nerves are sitting closer to the surface than they should be.

You round the corner and call out her name, “Cassie?” 

A door opens to an abandoned room, and a door opens, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room with her. She looks— not okay.

Her hair is slightly mussed, like she’s been running her hands through it. Her cheeks are flushed. She’s grabbing at the collar of her scrubs like it’s choking her. When she sees you, she exhales sharply. Relief. Immediate and unfiltered.

“What are you doing up here?” you ask her, striking up a conversation just for any type of distraction from the ever-present ache between your legs. And it does ache; you’re pretty positive you may have ruined both your underwear and the shorts you’re wearing from the way your cunt is dripping. 

“I went back down there and tried to figure out the name of the pollen we inhaled.” She says hurriedly, grabbing her phone. She pulls up a picture of the label she had taken, and your eyes glance over the letters. 

“Like I said, SEZ pollen.” You say, shrugging as you hand the phone back to her. You begin to feel hot again. It’s like on and off. Like heat flashes. Your eyes zero in on the hollow of her neck, your entire body buzzing with the need to attach your mouth to it, to see what noise she’d make if you did. You can’t drag your eyes away. 

“I don’t think you passed first grade letter learning that says ‘Sex’ pollen.” 

You frown, grabbing her phone again and zooming in with your fingers. “Holy shit.” Holy shit, it does say Sex pollen. How didn’t you see that before? You think it’s because you actually didn’t remove the dust that was on the label before reading it entirely. 

“So what do we do?” You ask, starting to freak out. Well, you were freaking out before, too, but now it’s like it’s been amplified to one million percent. Her gaze is on yours, and she finally manages to lift her eyes to drag down your body, her pupils blown so wide you can no longer see the blue of her irises. 

“I haven’t figured that out.” 

“Cassie…I think we might have to….” You try to insinuate, not wanting to say the whole thing.

“No, no, no.” She says, huffing out a laugh and shaking her head. 

“We might not have a choice,” you mutter, glancing at her. “I mean, we’re in an unused part of the hospital. No one would hear us, and no one would know.” 

“We can’t. I’m your attending.” She protests, but the argument falls flat with the way her eyes are locked on your cleavage, glistening with sweat. 

“And if we don’t get this out of our systems, then what?” You ask. You have to take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your shorts to keep from reaching out. “How long are we gonna push it? Are we gonna let it kill us just so we don’t have to-” 

She interrupts you with a rasp of your name, and you almost moan out loud at the sound of it. Fuck, you’ve never needed anything like you need her right now. Like breathing. “That’s the thing, I don’t want to have to. I- it feels like….forcing you. Tha-that's wrong.” 

Is that the only holdup for her? She thinks you don’t want this? You’ve gone this whole time thinking she’d literally rather die than fuck you, and it turns out she’s just scared you didn’t really want her, that this…pollen was making you feel things you’d never feel otherwise. Apart from the attending thing. 

“McKay, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re hot. I want you. And I’d rather have sex with you than die.” 

You watch her hands flex, her fingers spreading before she balls them into fists, and your cunt flutters. “Actually, the list of things I’d rather do to you than fuck you is probably significantly shorter than the opposite. Not…not just because of this pollen stuff.” Of course, the pollen is definitely making it worse. You can’t stop thinking of how good her fingers would feel curling inside you, imagining how attentive she’d be. How generous. Normally, you can curb all of these images and feelings until you get home, but right now they’re sticking to your skin, they’re sticking to the forefront of your mind, no matter how hard you try to think about literally anything else. 

You watch the conflict of her mind playing out on her face before she groans and rubs her hands over it. “You don’t get it; it’s not- I don’t want to just be someone you fuck, I want…I want a lot more.” She tells you, and if your heartbeat wasn’t already erratic, it would be skipping in your chest right now. “And this is the last way I wanted you to find out, but that’s why I’m not….I just don’t know if I can-” 

“Cassie.” Her name falls from her lips before you even realize you’re saying it. You walk closer to her, and you don’t miss the way her throat bobs as she swallows, the way her eyes flick down your body for just a moment, the way she twists her fingers. “Come here,” and suddenly her lips are on yours. 

You thought you would be nervous your first time kissing Cassie. If you ever got the opportunity to kiss her. But all you felt was…good. Really good. 

She takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, her free hand coming up to the back of your head to hold you close, guide you how she wants you. It’s not how you imagined she would kiss you, not really, but it’s exactly what you need right now, and the magic sparks down your spine in a wave of cool respite from the heat that had been eating you alive. 

Then she pulls away- to speak, or maybe just to breathe- and the heat surges back in instantly, stealing your breath away and leaving you panting into her mouth as you frantically drag her back in. “No,” you groan, shoving your hand into her hair to keep her from pulling back again. “We have to keep- ohhhhh, fuck jesus christ.” 

The feeling of her hand shoving under the fabric of your scrubs and pushing it up to expose your bra shuts you up quickly. She brushes her thumb over your nipple, and you moan, pleasure rolling through you. She doesn’t pull away to speak this time, well aware now that the relief you’re both feeling is very dependent on the contact. 

“I wish I could take this slow,” she mumbles, and you feel her voice buzzing against your lips. “I wanna lay you down, wanna take my time with you, fuck.” She swears as your hand enters her scrubs and begins to rub over her underwear, over her clit. You can feel how wet she is even through the layer of fabric separating you from her. Her lips leave yours and go to your forehead, kissing the skin there before pushing you back onto the unoccupied bed. 

She climbs on top of you, and you drag her bottom lip between your teeth. The noise she makes goes straight to your cunt, and you begin to urge her to take off her pants. “Next time,” you start, although it’s a little hard to speak with Cassie’s tongue dragging over yours on nearly every other word- “we can have slow and sweet or whatever you want. But if some part of you is not inside me in the next two minutes, I’ll kill you before the pollen even gets a chance, I swear.” 

Cassie laughs, like you’re joking. You absolutely aren’t. “Okay, okay,” she mutters, and your brain registers the sparking across your skin before her hand as she shoves it under the waistband of your shorts. Your entire body jolts as she brushes a finger over your center through the fabric of your panties, but only because it feels so good, more intense than it has any right to be. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” 

“Fucking hell- off. Off, take your scrubs off.” You tell her, and tragically, she removes her hand from your cunt, and you could actually cry at the way the overwhelming heat comes back, rising to the surface again, the second her touch leaves. But it only takes a moment before you feel good again as her hands brush your hips in her efforts to drag your shorts and underwear down your legs. 

You take over once she’s got them halfway down your thighs on the thin bed, crawling off her lap in favor of ridding yourself of the offending garments. And while you’re at it, you drag your bra over your head too. In the time between you crawling off her and tossing your clothes carelessly aside, Cassie has followed suit. When you turn your attention back to her, she’s entirely bare, having tossed her scrubs and underwear to the same floor you abandoned yours to. 

Despite your desperate urgency, you take a moment to let your eyes fall to her lap and then to her chest, the chain hanging around her neck, and fuck, your mouth waters at the sight of her. You can’t help but reach out, gingerly feeling her breasts before your hand dips lower, between her thighs. Your fingers run over the coarse hair before finding her warmth. She spreads her thighs slightly, her head falling to your arm. You’re so engrossed in the way she feels that you almost miss the choked little moan she gives, her body bowing towards you. 

“Please,” she groans, and then she reaches out to grab you by the shoulders, tugging you back in close again, urging you to reclaim her. “I need to- please let me taste you, baby. Please.” 

You nod, kissing her lips as she lies back on the bed, and you crawl ontop of it. She urges you to then climb onto her, your thighs going on either side of her head. “What are you doing?” You ask her, breathless, but you don’t get an answer as her arms curl around your thighs and press you down ontop of her mouth. 

Your jaw instantly drops open as her tongue moves up and down your lips. “Fuck, Cas-” you choke out, your head coming to lean against the wall there. Your head is at an angle where you can still look down at her, and you watch her eyes look into yours as she moves her tongue around inside you. “Holy shit!” You yelp when her tongue flicks your clit before going back down to move against your hole. 

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth as your other hand goes to her hair. “Jesus Christ, Cassie!” You yell towards the ceiling, removing your hand from your mouth, moving your hips on her mouth. You begin to grope yourself, looking down every once in a while at her to see her eyes still on you. 

Your body shakes on top of her, your hips move to keep that pleasure going. God, this is messy. So messy. You can feel her blunt nails dig into your thighs, drawing blood to the surface. You look over your shoulder to see her thighs clenched together to get pressure on her clit to ease some of the heat in her own stomach from the noises you’re making and the way you’re leaking when she mouths at your pussy. 

“Holy f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell her, and you don’t know if it’s the pollen or she’s just an expert with her tongue, but you suddenly lock up on her, letting out a whine before shuddering as you orgasm. You keep your eyes on hers the entire time, seeing her eyes light up with a smile as she doesn’t stop until you’re tapping her head to. 

But it doesn’t stop the heat that’s still bumbling under your skin, nor the feeling of wanting to stop. And if it didn’t subdue how you felt, it certainly didn’t quell how she felt either. She pulls you to her again once you’re settled into her lap and kisses you. You can taste yourself on her lips, and it makes you moan against her. 

“Don’t stop.” You tell her as her fingers enter inside you. You gasp against her mouth, and she smiles. 

“You’re still so fucking wet.” She comments, and you snake your hand down to enter her as well. 

“So are you.” 

Your fingers and hers pump in and out of each other at the same time, pulling moans from both of you. You whine against her lips, and she moans against yours. You’re both so aroused that it’s incredible you guys haven’t leaked onto the floor. 

“I want to taste you too.” You tell her, the tip of your finger 

She nods instantly, and you shuffle down the bed while she shuffles back up. Your hands gently push her legs apart, and you groan at the sight of her. You place her thighs on your shoulders, getting onto your stomach to kiss her all around before actually putting your mouth on her. 

She tastes like everything you’ve ever imagined, but every dream you’ve had of her can’t compare. 

You watch her, you watch as her hips tilt upwards, her head falling back against the bed’s pillow, and her hands find something to grab a hold of. Your own hands leave her thighs and intertwine with hers, holding them there against her stomach. 

“So good,” She says, over and over again, like those are the only words she can come up with in her mind. The only words she can speak. Your tongue glides through her slit, and she arches her back even more in presentation. There’s just something about the mind-blowing eroticism of her right now, how she’s holding onto your hands against her stomach for dear life. Just letting you lick through her folds, and something about it hits just right and makes both of your orgasms suddenly rear their heads fast. 

“Shit-” Cassie breathes frantically, her legs trembling and her hips pushing back against your mouth. “I’m gonna cum-” 

Your hands pull away from hers and come up to clamp around your thighs and hold them steady. And then you lower your chin to seal your mouth over her clit, slowly, very achingly slowly, drag your slick tongue over it, again and again and again, and she can’t do anything to stop it unless she pulls on your hair or uses the muscles you know she has to force your head away. 

You watch as everything surges up, searing hot and wet as she goes rigid and gasps your name, shuddering her way through the debilitating bliss as it arcs brilliantly up and down her spine. You come after her, moving your hips against the flimsy mattress for friction as you keep moving your mouth on her. 

By the time you’re both finished, it still feels like you’re still only getting started. You pull away and get up on your knees, and she tries to push herself up too, but you plant your palm firmly on her stomach, which stops her. The sound she makes is needy to say the least. 

You maneuver yourself so that one leg is near her side and the other is crossing over her thigh. One of her hands comes to your knee, and the other plants itself on the mattress, and your hand reaches behind you to grasp the end of the bed’s railing before the other one finds her thigh. 

As soon as your cunt makes contact with hers, it’s like relief spreads itself through your body. You both let out moans and sighs as you got moving, both trying to once and for all satiate the hunger down there. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispers, watching as you move your hips against her, kissing your knee that’s closest to her.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask her, and she shakes her head. 

“No, no, no, no. This is the best I’ve felt all day.” She says, letting out a moan as she speeds up the movements of her body. She sits up a bit, and your palms drag down her wrists and forearms as she gropes your breasts, throwing your head back in ecstasy. Your hands cup her tits as well, and Cassie hisses. 

You feel desperate, your blood pounding through your ears. “Holy shit, this feels amazing.” Your toes curl, and your body locks up, and you gasp her name to the ceiling of the room, flexing every single muscle in your body in response to her every touch on your skin. 

You’re not sure which way is up and which way is down. You feel so dizzy with sensation, shaky as her mouth comes forward to slowly drag across your nipples, and you actually feel water rush to your eyes in torment when she pulls away. 

You open your mouth to beg her not to stop, but she’s already latching onto the other one. Grabbing your sides and coming up to cup the back of your head, pressing her lips to your neck. She drags out the anticipation until you’re downright hurting for it, waiting with your mouth open. 

“You’re so pretty,” she whispers, “So, so pretty.” 

When her hot, velvety tongue finally slides into your mouth, something about it makes you moan brokenly against her lips. Her hands go down to your ass, holding you steady as she writhes against you. It’s blinding, making you squirm. 

It’s as agonizing as it is blissful, and you moan softly into her shoulder. Except- you’re too full of mindless pleasure, too stimulated to want to remain stationary for this long. You need to move, you need to show her how much you think about her, how much you think about her, especially when you shouldn’t. 

How much Robby has caught you staring at her hands when you’re supposed to be watching the procedure she’s explaining. The number of times you’ve had to be snapped out of your imagination during break by Trinity or Victoria. Even Mel on some occasions. 

But of course, she’s never noticed. Why would she ever notice? “Fuck, you’re amazing,” Cassie says, her voice sounding tighter and more desperate in the darkness, like it’s coming out against her will. “I want you. Please. F-fuck, please? All those times you’ve been caught looking at my hands. A-and Trinity having to snap you away from looking at me.” 

You choke out a cry as another wave of euphoria all but fucking eviscerates you. That’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear from her. All you wanted to hear for six grueling months. “I th-think about you all the time,” she groans, husky and low next to your ear, “every….fuck, every fucking day- thought about yo-” 

Both of your bodies tense up, Cassie’s hips stutter to a halt as she cums and you grind down into her, gasping her name into what is now the pitch black room. Your body is crushed into her chest when her hips jerk up against yours, and you bite her shoulder in satisfaction. 

It feels as though the effects of the pollen have finally dissipated. You don’t feel the heat anymore, or the irritation, or the throbbing that had been persistently between your legs all day, even after trying to alleviate it once. Cassie thumps back against the mattress, and you do the same, your legs still intertwined. 

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, I’m. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” 

You laugh lightly, swallowing and turning your head to look at her. Your knees break away from hers. As soon as you lift off the bed, you know you’re going to see a mess all over the thin blankets, so you decide to put it off for as long as she does. 

Cassie doesn’t seem to have a problem with it at all. In fact, her hand goes to your leg and pulls a little bit, slightly asking you to join her. You lie on top of her, and she reaches down to catch one of the blankets and pull the fabric over both of you, collapsing back into the pillow with an exhausted sigh and doing absolutely nothing to encourage you to move whatsoever. 

“How long?” You ask her. 

“How long what, baby?” You feel the tip of her finger beginning to trace lines on your arm. 

“How long have you…y’know…known about all that?” 

“What? With Trinity and Dr. Robby?” 

“Yes.” You say, and you feel her stop dragging her other finger up your spine. You can feel her chin lower slightly, her jaw brush against your forehead. 

“I’ve known for a while. You’re not as subtle as you’d like to be, clearly.” She whispers, and her words hang in the still air immediately afterwards. 

“I guess that’s what I get for staring at your hands while you’re trying to teach me a cricothyrotomy.” 

“You’re right,” she says jokingly, brushing your hair back from your shoulder. And, for some reason, you’re not expecting it. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t stare at you, too. I meant what I said. I want you.” 

Though her voice is soft, it’s like she’s reached through your rib cage, wrapped her hand around your heart, and squeezed until it popped. Your shoulders tense at the feeling, and you instinctively want to curl around her. All you can do is hide your face as best you can in her neck and let the unfiltered truth weigh heavily on you in the silent room.