#yfb

aaaa thank you!! i’m really happy that you’re enjoying it!

They’ve been laying in bed for a hour, silence stretching between them as the settled from their day. Katya can hear Trixie’s breathing, can hear the way it’s slowly starting to even out, and she knows Trixie must be asleep.

She’s been staring at the high ceiling since they crawled into bed, tracing the wooden beams with her eyes while she tries to process the information she’d received from the head of the advocacy team. It hadn’t been good, and the rest of the day she had to pretend like everything was fine because it was something that wasn’t hers to share. But it had been draining to put on a show, to convince everyone that they hadn’t received terrible news.

The act hadn’t lasted past the front door. When Katya had come home, she had dropped her purse on the floor and immediately headed for the wine fridge, managing to drink two glasses of Pinot Noir in record time. Trixie hadn’t said anything, just sat across the counter from her with eyes soft and curious. Katya knew she could talk to Trixie, she could tell Trixie what was wrong and share the grief with someone. But it didn’t feel right to burden Trixie with her emotions after she’d already been through so much. So she had sucked it up, ordered dinner for both of them and clicked through Netflix to find a movie to watch. Trixie had picked Katya’s favorite. She hadn’t paid attention to a single word.

Katya had managed to refrain from crying until much later that night, when she was standing under the hot spray of the shower. Her music was blaring, Stevie Nicks singing about going your own way loud enough to drown out her sniffles and uneven breathing.

When she had come out of the bathroom, padding across the plush carpet with a towel wrapped around her body, Trixie had been sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing lotion over her legs. For once, Katya had been too lethargic to be distracted by her thick thighs. She had dressed for bed in an oversized sleep shirt, yanked a brush through her hair, and tucked herself into bed without another word to Trixie.

And now here she is, still staring at the ceiling an hour later, Trixie asleep next to her, and she can’t even enjoy the way she’s there, steady and still.

She’s about to give up when it happens, get out her sleep medication and drift dreamlessly. Her hand is on the drawer of her nightstand where she keeps the prescription bottle when she feels fingers brush across her shoulder.

Katya turns, she can see where Trixie has sat herself up and pushed the covers down to her round thighs, the night’s light filtering through the gap in the curtains painting her skin silver. She could’ve sworn Trixie was asleep just seconds ago, but there’s no trace of drowsiness in her eyes now and Katya can’t make sense of what’s happening. Trixie is moving closer, and Katya can feel anxiety weighing on her chest, a hundred bricklayers working in tandem to box Katya in and she’s not supposed to do this, she’s not supposed to have feelings for Trixie, she doesn’t know what’s happening or what to do about it but she isn’t sure she cares anymore.

And then Trixie’s lips are on Katya, she reacts without thinking about it, pushing herself up to sit against the headboard. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed off camera, Katya knows that, but something is different about it this time and Katya thinks they can both tell. The kiss is unhurried and torrid, Trixie’s tongue tracing Katya’s lower lip, mouths falling open for Trixie to lick her way inside Katya’s mouth, an aching to be closer, closer, closer.

Trixie swings a leg over Katya’s lap, settles with her hands pressed loosely to either side of her neck while Katya grips her waist, thumbs resting on her ribcage just under her the edge of her bust. She can feel Trixie’s heart start to beat harder when her lips migrate to her jawline, down her neck, Katya’s teeth dragging over her collarbone. Trixie’s fingers tangle into Katya’s hair and tug when she sucks at the spot, and Katya knows there’s something she’s supposed to remember but she can’t right now, she doesn’t want to, she just wants to focus on the way Trixie is whimpering and her hips are starting to shift a little restlessly, the pink silk of her pajama shorts slippery against Katya’s bare thighs.

Katya slides a hand under Trixie’s bralette, pinching at her nipple and massaging her heavy breast. She’s scrabbling for friction and she can’t find any, and her whimpers are getting more desperate and Katya is soaked, she’s heard so many of Trixie’s noises during scenes but none of them sounded anything like this. Something about her soft keening is so new and so genuine and Katya wants to hear more of it, she wants to hear the sounds Trixie puts up on the highest shelf, away from prying eyes. Katya wants to know the sounds she makes that no one else gets to hear, wants something to share between the two of them, wants to be connected to Trixie in every way she can be. Katya wants.

She grabs onto Trixie’s hips and parts her own legs, lifts Trixie from her lap and positions her over just one of her thighs. Trixie is so grateful for the pressure of Katya’s thigh flush against her, breathing an airy moan as she begins to rock her hips.

Then she’s biting at Katya’s neck, teeth scraping skin and Katya lets her head fall to the side with a raspy moan. She can feel Trixie on her thigh, slick through her shorts and Katya’s head is swimming with it, she can’t think of anything except Trixie’s body moving against hers, Trixie’s fingers still yanking her hair at the root, Trixie’s moans and her whimpers and Katya is sure there’s something she’s supposed to remember but all she can think is Trixie, Trixie, Trixie.

Trixie is kissing her again, full-on this time, urgent and desperate and Katya feels herself melting in the heat of it. Katya sucks at Trixie’s lower lip and swallows the moan that follows, Trixie’s hips rutting onto Katya’s thigh harder now, more frantically.

Katya slides her hands back, fingers slipping under where the hem of her shorts is riding up and pressing into the soft flesh of Trixie’s ass. When Katya pulls back to look at her, her features are soft and tinted blue in the moonlight, curls bouncing around her arms and halfway down her back with her movements. Katya’s never seen someone look so ethereal, she thinks Trixie must be an angel, some celestial being far too breathtaking for this world.

Trixie leans forward, her breath catches in her throat and then she’s whining, hips moving urgently. Katya can tell she’s close, and she keeps one hand squeezing at her backside but moves the other, dipping easily under the waistband of her now-damp shorts to rub circles against her clit.

Trixie comes with a wail, the sound muffled into the crook of Katya’s neck. She can feel the vibrations of the sound trailing through her chest and into her core; she’s so amazed by Trixie, she always has been and now she’s gotten to experience so much more of her and she’s so grateful, she’s so grateful as Trixie rests against her chest while coming down from her high.

Katya can feel Trixie’s breathing, soft puffs of air fanning across her collarbone, and then Trixie is standing on wobbly legs, pulling at Katya’s hands to get her out of bed.

“Trix-” she starts as her feet hit the carpet, but she’s cut off by Trixie’s finger pressing against her lips.

“Shh, no talking,” and she’s backing up, leading them through to the bathroom, standing in the mellow white lighting. Her shorts are slung low on her wide hips, an obvious damp patch between her thighs that Katya finds devastatingly hot, even though she figures should feel a little bad about causing such a mess. Her nipples are straining against the fabric of her flimsy lace bralette, her stomach soft and bare with a gold bar glinting against the skin of her belly button.

She shimmies her hips, pushing her ruined shorts off and unhooking the back of her lace bralette, dropping them both to the floor. Her fingers loop through the sides of Katya’s thong to remove it, lift the hem of Katya’s sleep shirt over her head, and she takes Katya by the hand again, pulling her into the shower.

Katya needs Trixie, she’s aching with it as she watches the water from the showerhead trickle down between her breasts and over her abdomen, the light catching on the pink gem near her navel.  She steps forward to reach out and touch Trixie, to ghost her fingers over her cheeks and down her shoulders and pull her closer, but Trixie takes a small step backwards.

She picks up her pink mesh bath pouf from its hook, running it under the water. The sweet smell of roses permeates the shower, bouncing off the tile walls with the steam. Trixie locks eyes with Katya as she glides the lathered pouf up one arm, across her shoulders and down her other arm.

So she watches her, that’s all Trixie will let her do right now, just stand there and watch as her hands travel over every inch of her own body. And Katya wants to touch Trixie, wants to feel her soapy skin under her fingertips, wants to feel her breasts heavy in her hands and kiss her and breathe her in, the intoxicating rose scent that always faintly clings to her now so strong. All Katya can smell is Trixie, all Katya can think is Trixie, all Katya wants to taste is Trixie. And then Trixie is rinsing off and moving to stand in front of her, pushing her gently until her back collides with the wall, and Trixie is kissing her deeply, teeth nipping at her lower lip.

Trixie steps back again and Katya is startled by the loss, her eyes fly open, she wasn’t even aware they had been shut but now Trixie is on her knees in front of Katya and she’s sure she’s having a stroke, there’s no other reason for this to be happening, not now. There’s no logical explanation in her mind right now as to why Trixie is nudging her thighs apart and nosing her way up from her knees, but she really doesn’t care because she’s never needed anything like she needs Trixie.

Her tongue is on Katya’s clit, a hand wrapping around the back of her thigh to lift it over her shoulder, and Katya is certain her knees are going to give out. She tries to steady herself, threads her fingers into Trixie’s hair, warm and damp from steam and mist, and she’s mewling as Trixie flattens her tongue, licks a broad stripe over her lips before moving back up to her bundle of nerves.

She traces circles around it at first, avoiding direct contact to tease her but Katya’s so desperate, so needy, she’s writhing and she can’t help it, she’s fucking sobbing with it, and Trixie has to give in. She presses a kiss to Katya’s clit and then sucks at it, swirling her tongue over the bud. Katya’s fingers tighten in Trixie’s hair and she can feel a hum vibrating through her core, the muscles in her legs are starting to shake and Trixie cements her grip on her thigh.

Trixie moves further down, licking tentatively at Katya’s lips before she stiffens her tongue to thrust into her. Katya gasps as Trixie fucks in and out of her, her nose bumping rhythmically against Katya’s clit.

A finger is brushing against Katya’s asshole and she’s gulping down air, she could go cross-eyed with how good it feels, with how overstimulated she is. The steam of the shower and the beads of sweat rolling down her temples are working together to make strands of Katya’s hair stick to her forehead and she doesn’t care, she can’t make herself care right now and that’s so different, this is so different from scenes at work when the only thing Katya can think about is how she might look.

But right now she doesn’t care. She’s sweating and panting and her fingers are buried in blonde curls that have frizzed up in the humidity of the shower, and she’s sure her own hair has done the same. She’s babbling, whimpering Trixie’s name over and over, the only word on her lips.

Trixie’s finger is pushing against her, sinking into her at a torturously, deliciously slow pace, the ring of muscle gradually giving way to the pressure. And then it’s in, just one fingertip, and Trixie’s tongue is in her cunt and her nose is against her clit and Katya’s eyes are rolling back into her head as she cries Trixie’s name and comes undone around her.

Katya’s not sure exactly what happens next, everything is a bit hazy from the intensity of her orgasm, but she knows that she’s dried off now, tucked back into bed next to Trixie. Trixie is pressed against her, warm skin against skin and Katya’s eyes are slipping closed.

Early in the morning, when the first few rays of light are low over the horizon, Katya wakes up and realizes what she’s done. She’s become the one thing she swore she never would. She doesn’t know how to reconcile that thought in her mind, doesn’t know how she can make it better. She feels just like the rest of them.

Suddenly she’s no better than Ed.

Trixie’s still asleep, blissfully unaware of the existential crisis going on in the mind of the woman her arm is draped over. Katya shifts carefully so she doesn’t wake, rolls out of bed and gets dressed as quickly as possible, grabbing her bag and heading out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.