finger lickin good

by Tr1x

Summary:

Trixie and Katya get in a minor vehicle collision outside a KFC on the night of KFC"s once-a-year Cyber Monday sale.

(inspired by the minor vehicle collision I witnessed outside a KFC on the night of KFC's once-a-year cyber monday sale)

(this is the craziest thing I've ever written)

Notes:

thank you so much first of all for clicking on this wack-ass fic. I know the summary is ridiculous and so is the title but this is going to be a genuine piece of writing lol.

feedback is really REALLY appreciated :)

Tumblr: trixiemateil

Chapter 1: cyber monday

“Well, coin flip it is then!” Courtney decides, fishing around in her jean pocket for a loose quarter.

“Heads or tails?” her roommate inquires. Katya scoffs, the choice is obvious to her.

“Heads” Katya states. Courtney carefully positions the gleaming metal onto her hand and she tosses the coin. Katya watches as it flips itself over, reflecting light as it spins rapidly.

“It landed on tails, so you’re picking it up” Courtney announces. Katya sighs in frustration, dropping her hands to her sides.

“Whatever!” Katya declares while snatching up her keys and stomping to the door. She drapes her leather jacket around her shoulders, slipping one arm in each heavy sleeve. She walks out of her apartment and jogs her way down the fire escape stairs. The elevator has been out of order for the past week, and god knows that the building manager isn’t going to fix it. Living only on the second floor, this was not a great inconvenience but an annoyance for sure.

Cascading down the final three steps, Katya pushes the heavy metal door and faces the windy grey weather of Toronto. Her apartment has no underground parking, and so instead Katya keeps her car across the street in front of the neighboring apartment. She has never received any complaints about this so, for the past year, the same piece of asphalt has been her automobile’s home.

Her car is definitely well-loved. She had inherited the Chevrolet from her parents a few years after graduating high school, and ever since has driven it all over the country. Unfortunately, the silver vehicle is just now starting to develop gratuitous amounts of problems. The tires make a high-pitched squeaking noise whenever Katya turns corners, and there is a small crack in the corner of the back windshield. Katya doesn't care enough to spend limited money fixing these problems, not to mention her lack of funding for such a minute issue. And so, her car remained in its battered state.

Katya jabs her key into the ignition and establishes her hands on the wheel, gripping the worn leather. The car sputters into a low hum, which Katya masks with the sound of a random radio station. She pulls out of the apartment building's garage, starting the nine-minute drive to the restaurant.

It’s a colder night than usual, the mid-autumn air is dry and has a sharp chill to it. There are fallen leaves lining the sidewalk, some of which have settled damply into the grass, but there is a thin lining of fresh, crunchy leaves layered above the damp ones. The fresher leaves are a vibrant orange, scattered over the titian wet leaves below. The road has yet to be cleared of the new leaves and they lie solemnly on the concrete.

Katya starts getting close to the restaurant and can't stop her mouth from falling open as she catches a glance of the queue to pick up orders. The doors to the restaurant were at one corner of the block and the stripe of people waiting almost reached the other corner. The line did not appear to be moving very much either. Katya felt a sudden pang of embarrassment that she was about to spend a significant portion of her afternoon waiting in the cold just to get some half-price fried food. Katya slows down as she approaches a stop sign, still absentmindedly wondering whether the chicken was really worth it. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of scraping metal and her car lurching forwards, despite her pressing hard onto the brake pedal.

 

+

 

 

Trixie is typing away at her computer rapidly, replying to one of the many emails that had long been sitting in her inbox. The satisfying clacks of her manicured nails on the mechanical keyboard reverberate through her empty office.

Trixie had put her hair in a neat bun early that day, but many strands had escaped since. The loose wisps sat in a warm blonde halo, framing her face. Trixie wipes the back of her hand over her under-eye, knocking her glasses slightly off-center. She unconsciously hopes that her makeup hasn't just transferred onto her pink blazer sleeve. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and its coordinating suit-jacket, with a simple white blouse underneath.

But Trixie isn't worried about her appearance at this point in the afternoon regardless. There weren’t that many employees left in the office, their team consisted of 12 people and the majority of them had already left for home. Trixie would stay late most nights, meticulously typing out emails and planning for future launches. Being the co-founder of her own makeup business was stressful to put it shortly. She and her partner, Kim, had to, at minimum, approve everything before it was put out: the formula, the colors, the packaging, the case design, the shade names, etc. Trixie was pleased with how everything shook out though. She handled the formulas for products and the marketing, while Kim worked on the graphic design and art for packaging. The two worked together to come up with concepts and color schematics. Their team handled other important facets: customer service, public relations, online business, social media... Trixie was forever grateful that she and Kim had assistance with their business now.

 

Trixie sends off the email with a satisfying click. The message disappears into the top corner of the computer screen, revealing the rest of her inbox from behind it. Trixie spots a new message at the top of the page with a subject line reading: “sample update!”

She opens it, excited, and beams at the long-awaited update from her lab technician. They had been going back and forth, making adjustments to the formula of a new product Trixie was hoping to release soon, and she was confident that they had landed on the right amalgam of pigments and glitter this time.

She scans her eyes over the email rapidly, searching for some confirmation that the product was ready to be collected, tested, and revised by herself.

 

Trixie slows her reading as she finds the sentence she was looking for: “Your samples are finished and ready for pick-up.” Trixie clasps her hands together gratefully, testing out the makeup as if she were a consumer was essential to the process of making a good product. She never released makeup without giving samples to friends and colleagues and hearing their feedback. Finally being able to experiment with the product and to see how it performs was exciting.

Trixie gathers her things, depositing them into her white faux-alligator handbag. She swings the bag strap over her shoulder and flees the office.

 

The reflective steel doors of the elevator break away from each other, as a dignified “ding” sounds from the tinny elevator. Trixie steps out and strides through the parking garage. The fluorescent lights fizz and hum, casting an unpleasant off-white hue from their bulbs. The garage was devoid of any other people and the clicking of Trixie's heels echoed loudly off the concrete as she advanced towards her sleek white car. Trixie tugs on the car door handle, careful to not damage her freshly polished nails doing so, and scoots in. She relaxes into the plush leather of the driver's seat and sashes the seatbelt across her chest.

The lab was not far from her office, but the afternoon rush hour would probably delay her expedition there. She turns out of the parking garage and is met with an unsurprisingly busy road. Trixie hums along to her music, playing through the car's speakers as she drives.
She turns a block ahead of the lab to avoid further traffic and very quickly has her attention stolen away by a long line of people trailing from the direction where Trixie was traveling.

Trixie follows the line with her eyes as she meanders past, confused as to why so many people were queued down the block on a Monday afternoon. Trixie eventually finds the source of people. A KFC advertising a one-time-a-year discount on all their food. Trixie laughs, still studying the queue, while she definitely would have coveted such a deal in her youth, she was far removed from that now. Her newfound wealthiness was a gift, and she was not interested in going back to her roots.

The sound of scraping metal attacks her eardrums unceremoniously. The rear headlights of the braking car ahead of her disappear as Trixie makes an impact.

Chapter 2: outside the KFC

Summary:

the aftermath of the collision+getting the chicken babey

Notes:

hi!! this one's a bit shorter, hope, you guys like it!!

any feedback at all seriously makes my day so pls throw a kudos or comment if you like it.
If you hate it comment and tell me why! I want to improve!

More coming soon, and I gotta say chapter 4 is probably my favorite so far lol

tumblr: trixiemateil

Katya stills for a moment, slack-jawed, unsure of whether she had imagined what just occurred. She wasn’t sure how, but another vehicle had just hit her. She presses the back of her skull into the car's headrest and sighs, trying to recenter herself. It wasn’t bad, she could tell, her car had just barely rocked forward at the impact. The sound of the collision wasn’t loud either, Katya had heard it over the radio, but had her car not moved she probably would have assumed it was something else.

Katya pulls over hesitatingly to an empty parking spot and the car she had collided with follows behind her. Katya steps out of the car and turns to assess the damage. There's a small dent in the aluminum where the other car bumped into her. The metal had caved onto itself and some of the paint was scratched off, but nothing happened that was lawsuit worthy.

Katya reconsiders this as she catches a glance at the logo on the car that had hit hers. Katya didn't know much about cars but she could tell that this one was expensive. It has an aerodynamic look to it and a sleek design. It’s clearly new too, a fresh coat of glossy paint is lacquered over the body of the vehicle. Katya almost feels guilty, but cuts back the feeling, reminding herself that this person had hit her with their nice car.

Katya pauses her examining at the sound of a car door opening and high heels hitting the street below. The woman is visibly a bit disheveled but walks with an air of confidence. She’s wearing a pristinely pressed suit jacket and skirt, that hug her curves beautifully. She has clear framed glasses resting over the bridge of her nose and Katya can see through the lenses just enough to see how impeccably applied her makeup is. A cut crease with gold shimmer and warm neutral shadow. She also has a light dusting of rosy blush going across her cheeks. Her face is framed by golden blonde strands that have forsaken her loose bun. She is statuesque and Katya very quickly feels underdressed, in her black Converse and baggy jeans. She attempts to conceal her t-shirt by tugging her leather jacket tighter over her chest.

 

“Alright, I'll call the authorities, you can start writing down your information here” The other woman starts, handing Katya a pocket-sized notebook and pen, procured from her purse. She opens her phone to dial for assistance but is stopped by Katya's hand on her wrist.

“Hold on now, I don't think there's any need to do that” Katya articulates.

“What?”

“Well, both of our cars are barely damaged, I don't think we really even needed to stop” Katya affirms nervously.

“You're always supposed to call the authorities if there's a collision” the other woman explains, looking at Katya quizzically.

“That's only if we’re injured or we cant drive our cars, and I don't think that's the case here.” Katya insists, gesticulating grandly “listen, I don't care about this car that much and I'm sure you can have yours cleaned up no problem. Why don't we just go our separate ways and not make a big deal out of this?” Katya argues, clearly anxious to leave.

“I can't let you do that, I hit your car, I should pay for the repairs…” The stranger pauses, trying to think of a possible compromise. “Can I get your name and number, at the least? “ She offers.

 

“Well, my name is Katya, but I insist on not allowing you to pay to fix this piece of junk. You can definitely still have my number though” Katya finishes with a playful wink. The stranger’s cheeks flush red.

“Oh- I- my name’s Trixie” She stammers out trying to not make her bewilderment too obvious. She turns over the pen and pad to Katya, who accepts it this time. Katya flips the notepad back open and writes out her phone number, adding a small heart next to it. Trixie holds out her hand expectantly for the notebook and Katya pauses, pulling the book back towards her chest.

“I'll give it to you if you wait in line with me,” Katya proposes. Trixie shakes her head in disapproval but can't stop the corners of her mouth from curling up.

“I’m not waiting in that line ” Trixie eyes the length of people standing on the sidewalk. Katya rips the paper out of the book, stuffing it into her coat pocket. She turns on her heel towards the end of the queue.

“Fine,” Trixie says, rolling her eyes, Katya turns back around to face Trixie and grins.

 

It was a pretty long wait, possibly more than an hour, and Trixie was beginning to regret not wearing something to cover her legs. The pair take a longer time exchanging numbers and emails than Katya had expected. They keep interrupting each other, making casual conversation she finds strangely engaging. They've made it further than halfway through the line by the time they both have substantial contacts for each other but Trixie doesn't seem to be leaving.

“‘So what do you do exactly?” Katya inquires, curious as to how Trixie could afford all the expensive things she seemed to have on her person.

“I'm the co-founder of my own makeup brand” Trixie explains excitedly. Katya looks intrigued. Trixie goes on to give a brief rundown of the company's history, how it started, why it started, how it got to where it's at. Katya remains attentive all the way through, now even more interested in Trixie's life.

“What do you do, Katya?” Trixie inquires.

“I’m a teacher! I only just started so I don't work much but I love it.” Katya slows her speech as she notices Trixie start to shiver, rubbing her hands together. The coolness of the night has settled and Trixie’s breath is visible in the chilled air.

“Do you want my jacket?” Katya says, cursory. Trixie denies Katya's coat, insisting that she's fine. But Katya persists. Trixie finally accepts the offer and Katya shrugs off the heavy leather jacket, draping it over Trixie’s shoulders. She thanks her, pulling it snug over her torso.

They were slowly approaching the front of the line and the sizzling scent of fried food was beginning to waft towards Katya's nostrils. The smell is salty and warm, comfortable compared to the harsh cold of the Toronto air. She shrugs away the clawing hunger growing in her stomach in favor of conversing with Trixie further.

“So where do you live?” Katya asks

“I live in Bridal Path,” Trixie answers casually. Katya nods, to her knowledge: Bridal Path was an affluent neighborhood. She wouldn't say anything about it though, not wanting to impose.

“How about you?” Trixie questions

“The Annex” Katya replies, it was an area with a lot of university students and near the school she taught at. She opens her mouth to explain this to Trixie but is caught off-guard by an unfamiliar voice loudly declaring her name. Katya turns her stare to see a restaurant worker holding her dinner in a large bag. She jogs over and accepts the bag, thanking the employee.

 

They part ways once Katya has received her food. Katya feels a strong amalgam of emotions saying her goodbyes to Trixie. Disappointed to not be able to talk to Trixie anymore but relieved to finally be able to eat her dinner and escape the cold. She drives back to the apartment in silence going over her and Trixie's interactions in her head, almost getting in another collision when she realizes she never got her coat back from Trixie.

 

 

+

 

 

Trixie collects the cardboard box, superfluous with makeup samples, and drives back to her apartment. She nudges the heavy wooden door open with her hip. She struggles for a few moments, kicking it open further whilst trying not to drop the box. She pushes through eventually and sets the box on the ground. Trixie discards her heels and places them carefully on the shoe rack. Still bent down, she retrieves the cardboard box, hoisting the makeup samples up and onto her marble kitchen counter.

. Proceeding through the apartment she finally relaxes, feeling her socked feet gliding over the polished wood floor. She continues her trudge to the base of the stairs and Trixie lazily unbuttons her blazer as she shambles up the steps. She swings the door to her bedroom forward and flops onto her thick covers. She lays for a few moments. Driving back from the lab had taken much longer than expected, seeing as she had somehow managed to bump into another car on the way there. Her thoughts derail at the reminder of the charismatic woman she had met hours previous. Katya wasn't much younger, fresh out of university and working as a teacher.

Trixie reaches for her phone and pulls up the contact she had made for Katya while they waited in line. She opens up a new chat and types out a message, informing Katya that she had forgotten her coat. She deletes it, unsatisfied with the wording. She tries a few different phrases, trying to find a subtle way to make sure Katya would reply. She had just met the woman but she was undeniably interested. Trixie finally settles on a greeting and hits send before she can regret it.

 

Trixie: Hi Katya! It's Trixie, just sending this so
I know you have my number, how are you?!”

Trixie: also, you forgot to take your jacket back

 

She almost immediately regrets it, her failure to be casual would probably come across obviously to Katya. She tosses her phone in defeat and puts the heels of her hands over her eyes. She gently massages over her closed eyelids, seeing spots of light, and feels small particles of her mascara crumble and smudge onto her eye bags. She decides to get herself up to prepare for bed.

 

Trixie steps into her sherpa slippers and shuffles to her closet. She glides on a silk nightie, The fabric cool against her skin. Trixie advances to the en-suite bathroom. She runs the tap for a few seconds allowing it to adjust to her preferred temperature. She cups her hands, collecting the chilled water, and splashes it over her face. She blindly reaches for her cleanser and begins massaging it over the apples of her cheeks. She follows this with some makeup remover and an additional splash of water from the sink. She subsequently applies a few expensive skincare products to her face, finishing off with a moisturizer. With that done she turns back to her bed. The mattress was springy and oversized, draped with expensive velvety duvet covers and Trixie dives in, becoming unconscious the moment her head hits the pillow.

Notes:

THANKS FOR READING! :)

any feedback at all seriously makes my day so pls throw a kudos or comment if you like it!
If you hate it comment and tell me why! I want to improve!

More coming soon :)

 

tumblr: trixiemateil

Chapter 3: elementary school

Notes:

this one is a bit short so I'm hoping to update again tomorrow or possibly in a few hours lol, hope you enjoy it!

all feedback (even the smallest bit) is very much appreciated, thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments :)

tumblr: trixiemateil

Katya double checks her makeup in her car mirror, ensuring none of her lipstick has transferred elsewhere. This has become a habit for her, due to all the times she’d randomly discovered a splotch of red had renounced its place on her lips mid-day. One time a student of hers had noticed that Katya had a small smudge of the red on the tip of her nose, despite it being a very small blotch, this corporeality had been enough to derail the entire lesson. Katya had since learned to not touch her face during the day. Her choppy blonde hair was held back with a black cloth headband, it being too short for a ponytail, to keep it out of her face while she teaches. The black velvet juxtaposes itself harshly with Katya's over-developed platinum strands, both in texture and color. She pulls into her parking space and hurriedly shuffles to her classroom, trying not to trip over her patent leather pumps.

 

+

 

Katya collapses onto an uncomfortable staff room couch, usually she would be bothered by the rough fabric and tangible springs but she was too grateful to finally be able to unwind after her long morning of teaching. Trying to get unwilling 9-year-olds to understand various french word tenses was demanding. She deposits her lunch into the grease coated microwave and collects her phone from her pocket, filling the time while she waits for her leftovers to heat up. She hadn't been able to check her phone the entire day and beneath a few random notifications, Katya was surprised to see a message from the woman she had met the night before. Trixie’s text was short, professional, and casual. Katya was well aware she would not be able to reciprocate Trixie’s easy-going demeanor. Katya drafts out a few responses trying to think of a subtle way to keep the conversation going.

 

Trixie: Hi Katya! It's Trixie, just sending this so I know you have my number, how are you?”

Trixie: also, you forgot to take your jacket back.

 

Katya: Hi Trixie! I am not doing great! How’s your day going?

 

The microwave beeps angrily at her and she tucks her phone away, hitting send. She walks steadily to a table, pulling out a chair with one hand and setting her steaming food down with the other. Katya recalls her phone from her pocket and is shocked once again to see a reply from Trixie. She had answered pretty quickly too.

 

Trixie: I’m at my office, a bit stressed ‘cause I’m trying
to rush out our next products release date lol
what are you up to?

 

Katya: that sounds exciting, good luck!

Katya: I'm currently trying to teach children about past-tense french verbs which are honestly kind of a lost cause, but I try my best!

 

Trixie: that's very noble of you, I was always terrible at french in school! I always wish I had l learned it though, it would come in handy a lot.

 

Katya: I could... teach you?

 

Trixie: would you really!?

 

Katya: I don't see why not!
Katya: are you free this weekend?

 

Trixie: I am! Does Friday afternoon at My place work for you?

 

Katya: for sure!

 

They continue texting all throughout Katya’s break, setting up a time and working out how much french Trixie still remembered from high school. They set up a vague outline of what Trixie wants to learn and say their goodbyes just before Katya’s break is over. Katya sets her phone down, exhilarated, and starts packing her things to head back to the classroom.

 

 

+

 

 

The pair talk very frequently in the days leading up to their meeting at Trixie’s house, texting during the workday and calling in the late afternoon. On Friday morning Katya wakes up undeniably excited. She picks out a simple black cotton lingerie set she had purchased from Calvin Klein a week prior. She had originally bought the set with the intention of loungewear but had discovered, upon trying it on, that the color and shape looked quite nice on her. The black fabric allowed for the tattoos running down her arms and across her chest to stand out beautifully and the shape of the garments complemented her toned physique.

 

She still had the entire workday before her lesson with Trixie, though. Katya puts on her meticulously crafted outfit, peeling it up carefully from her bedroom floor. The night prior she had spent upwards of an hour careening through her and Courtney's apartment trying to find an outfit that fit her dress code as a teacher but could be quickly adjusted to look good for Trixie. She had settled on black jeans and a billowy silk button-up. The top was a deep maroon, and Katya could easily loosen up a button if she needed to before arriving at Trixie's. Her jeans were high waisted and undeniably made her ass look excellent. She also wears her only set of nice jewelry, a simple gold necklace and earrings that gleam when light hits them.

 

Katya operates throughout the entire day on autopilot. She gives her students as much attention as she can muster but her brain is much more focused on finally seeing Trixie in person again. Their constant communication leading up to the day had only served to heighten Katya's elation. Anticipation burbles in the pit of Katya's stomach all day and slowly proliferates to her chest as she drives towards Trixie's neighborhood. The feeling spreads to her hands as she draws them from her pockets, and presses the flat of her pointer finger into the buzzer of Trixie’s apartment, hands tense.

Notes:

THANK YOU FOR READINGGGGGGGG!!!!!!

The next chapter will be up very very soon

 

all feedback (even the smallest bit) is very much appreciated, thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments :)

tumblr: trixiemateil

Chapter 4: The French Lesson

Summary:

Trixie and Katya have their first french lesson

also smut :)

Notes:

I'm adding another chapter!! I wanna round this out a bit more so there will be another one after this! hope you guys enjoy :)

pls interact lol the tiniest bit of feedback means the world!!! feel free to share any positive or negative opinions in the comments.

pls, leave a kudos if you liked it!

tumblr: ageofaquria

Trixie’s building is tall and daunting, a huge rectangle made up of large panes of glass and reflective iron. Some of the large windows glow orange with light, and Katya absentmindedly wonders whether Trixie’s was one of the illuminated apartments.

Trixie buzzes her in and Katya pulls on the weighty glass door into the apartment lobby. The elevator ride up is nauseatingly fast and Katya has to put a hand up to lean against Trixie's door frame before knocking on it, trying to clear the motion sickness from her brain.

The door swings open and Katya is greeted by Trixie in a thulian pink patterned dress. It clings tight to her buxom figure, curvaceous hips on full display. Her long blonde hair is tied half-up and the rest falls in loose honey blonde curls over her shoulders to her mid-back. She exudes comfortable energy.

“Hi! Thanks for coming, it’s great to see you again” Trixie opens warmly.

“It’s lovely to see you, too,” Katya replies politely despite unabashedly peeking over Trixie's shoulder to glance at the upscale apartment.

Katya can see into all of Trixie's living space as she kicks off her shoes. The entire area is open concept with ostentatiously high ceilings. There's a kitchen on the left side and a living room on the right. The kitchen has pristine marble countertops and a very large stainless steel two-door fridge. The living room is furnished with a salmon-colored L-shaped couch and oversized TV. The space in between the two is filled with an elegant glass coffee table. She has a palatial faux-fur rug on the floor by the couch and a matching blanket splayed luxuriously over the arm of the couch. The flooring is completed with polished wood paneling that spreads throughout the entire unit. The back wall consists mostly of floor to ceiling window panes, filling the whole room with a dim light from the streets outside. The only other light is a floor lamp situated next to the arm of the couch.

“Thanks so much for offering to teach me!” Trixie acknowledges as she waves Katya in, directing her towards the couch.

“It’s no problem! I love teaching, especially people who are actually interested in learning the language.” Katya replies earnestly, abandoning her shoes at the door. The pair situate themselves onto the suede couch, Trixie crossing her legs elegantly, as Katya scrambles to tuck hers beside her snugly. Katya’s baggy jeans bunch uncomfortably where her thighs meet her hips and an excess of denim folds over itself at her pelvis, she subtly tries to pat down the protruding fabric. There are two glasses of red wine on the coffee table sat next to a random assortment of writing utensils, Katya notices.

“It’s Cabernet Sauvignon,” Trixie explains. “I thought French wine would be appropriate” Katya chuckles.

“It definitely is, we need to work on that pronunciation, though” Katya quips. Trixie gasps jokingly.

“But seriously, it’s ca-bahr-né so-veen-yon”. Katya sounds it out, over-dramatizing the French accent. Trixie nods slowly, enticed by the way Katya purrs through R sounds. Katya’s lips, dipped in a cut ruby red, move slowly as she explains the syllables, pursing at O’s and widening at E’s. Her bright teeth disappear and reappear in flashes of white behind her painted lips.

“Trixie?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to try saying it yourself” Katya reiterates.

“Oh! Uh- yeah sure” Trixie blurts, unsure of exactly what Katya wants her to say. Trixie sounds out the name again as Katya takes a long, opulent sip of the wine. She leaves a small lipstick stain on the side of the glass and sets it back down onto the table.

“Very good, Trixie. Why don’t we start doing some longer sentences now?” Katya offers. Trixie nods and they proceed to go back and forth conversationally in French. Katya helps Trixie through most of the way, but she starts picking up and remembering certain grammatical rules as she goes.

“Je suis froid” Trixie announces, pulling the fluffy white blanket over her and Katya's legs. Trixie scoots forwards and sidles her knee in between Katya’s, their faces now only a few inches apart. They sustain eye contact as Trixie pats down the fabric over their bodies cozily but Katya breaks it, her cheeks reddening. She busies herself studying the blanket. The strands of faux-fur are long and delicate, and Katya runs her hand back and forth over the fabric, watching the fibers move with her fingers. Katya stills as she feels a hand ghost over her cheek. She looks up to meet Trixie’s caramel eyes, and her fingers dance gently over Katya's chin. Trixie’s pointer finger settles on Katya’s jaw and her thumb rests in the concave dip of her cheekbone.

 

“Tu est trés Jolie” Katya whispers, sensuality seeping through her words. Trixie’s eyelids flutter and her lips part, in awe, before she smiles lightly. Katya reaches her hand up to mirror Trixie's and leans in slightly. Their foreheads are only centimeters away and Trixie can smell the wine on Katya's tongue, bitter yet seductive.

Katya finally eliminates the distance between their lips and Trixie melts into it right away, kissing back sweetly. It starts off soft and kind as Katya moves her mouth with Trixie, allowing her to take the lead. She slowly introduces her tongue to Trixie’s mouth. She pokes in gently a few times before retracting it again and Trixie hums in excitement. Trixie’s plump lips are soft and damp with saliva, Katya’s are smooth and waxy with lipstick. Katya nips Trixie's lip with her incisors and drags her teeth along the skin. Trixie, whines and reaches her hand to the back of Katya's neck, running her hand up and entangling into Katya's roots. Katya swirls her tongue over Trixie's, and Trixie rolls hers back. They continue to massage one another tongues gently getting more aggressive as they continue.

 

Katya pulls away for air, chest heaving, and lipstick smudged in a wide proximity from her lips. Her hair is mussed up and frizzy at the back from Trixie’s grabbing of it, and her shirt is sitting wonkily, the collar wrinkled. Trixie, unbelievably, looks perfect. Her nude lipgloss had barely moved from its place and her hair and clothes still looked recently pressed.

“Would you want to maybe take this upstairs?” Trixie suggests.

“Absolument” Katya replies with a grin, accent thick with lust.
“Just so I’m 100% sure that means yes, right?” Trixie confirms, Katya giggles,

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Good”

 

Katya stumbles up the stairs behind Trixie, fumbling to unbutton her top. Trixie is shedding her dress as they climb up the steps. They turn sharply at the top into Trixie's bedroom, and Trixie throws her dress into a corner of the room as she nudges the door open. Katya slams the door shut whipping around to aggressively grab Trixie’s waist and press her against it. The two paused for a moment, breathing raggedly, taking each other in. Trixie is in a pink peony bralette and pantie set, adorned with delicate lace. She studies Katya's chest, decorated with intricate pieces of inked artwork that extend over her collarbone and dip behind her half unbuttoned shirt.

“You knew this was going to happen, huh?” Katya whispers, heeding Trixie's choice of lingerie.

“And you didn’t?” Trixie retorts before she takes leadership, clutching Katya's ribs and spinning her to the bed as their lips reconnected. Katya feels Her calves against the base of the bed frame and allows herself to fall back, Trixie on top of her. The mattress is foamy and sinks slightly where they fall back, embracing. Her eyelids slowly open and she looks at Katya, their noses brushing.

“Are you sure this is ok?” Trixie asks. Katya nods in confirmation. Trixie dives back in, gently sucking on Katya’s bottom lip. She nips and licks over it, teasing. Meanwhile, Trixie trails her hand lightly over the side of Katya's torso, feeling her muscular build and the curve of her waist. She finds the bottom hem of Katya’s top and dips a hand underneath, snaking towards Katya’s breast. She ghosts the tips of her fingers in light circles around her tits, making Katya even more desperate. Katya lifts her lower half from the mattress instinctively, Trixie is just a bit too far away for her to grind up on and she groans in frustration. Trixie rearranges herself to unbutton the final buttons on Katya’s top. She then reaches behind Katya's back and unhooks her black bralette, revealing a few delicate tattoos that Trixie had yet to see. She caresses both of Katya’s breasts, massaging them gently. Katya hums low.

Trixie goes in with her mouth now, circling and sucking on Katya's nipple. Katya responds more to this, moaning from low in her throat, and bucking her hips futilely. Trixie tongues over Katya’s sensitive buds, flicking the tip of it before closing her lips around it and sucking. Trixie finally moves one hand lower. And very slowly slips off Katya’s jeans, taking her panties with them. She circles around the area with her middle and ring finger and lightly dips one in. It goes into Katya's entrance smoothly, she’s soaked. Trixie pumps her fingers a few times, finding what angle gets the most reaction from Katya before adding another. Trixie continues to draw her fingers in and out of Katya, still mouthing over her nipples. Katya’s body rocks with Trixie's fingers and she tilts her chin up with every stroke of her g-spot.
“Fuck, Trixie, keep going” Katya slurs, drunk with pleasure. Trixie readjusts her thumb, rubbing gently over the hood of Katya’s clit, and Katya throws her head all the way back, moaning loudly. Trixie teases her thumb over the area until Katya is begging for more, legs shaking and hips bucking into Trixie. Trixie gives in, rubbing her thumb onto Katya's clit, synchronized with a thrust of her fingers. Katya moans loudly, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Christ, Trixie- so good,” Katya rasps, “I’m so close.” Trixie thrusts into her harder now, massaging over her clit with more pressure. Katya relinquishes any poise she previously pretended to have, allowing herself to unravel before Trixie. Katya comes with Trixie’s name on her tongue, electricity rippling through her body.

Notes:

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!

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Chapter 5: Breakfast and bed

Summary:

Trixie makes katya breakfast and Katya makes Trixie's day.

Notes:

The last chapter!!! (maybe) I'm considering adding another one at the end or possibly making a series, lmk what y'all think!

feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated!!!!!

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Trixie awakes entangled in Katya’s body. They are a knot of limbs, radiating warmth in Trixie’s dimly lit room. None of the lights have been flicked on, but natural luminescence still travels through Trixie’s oversized window panes. Rain pitters softly against the glass, and through it a thick blanket of clouds is colouring the city sky a stormy blue-grey. The room is still mostly dark, Trixie can’t see much save for the high points of Katya’s cheekbones and the helix of her ear, glowing with a fresh sheen of moisture. Most of the room is shadowy, furniture appears as vague inky shapes, seeming to droop and shudder as Trixie lifts her head, eyes adjusting.

Her stare focuses on the girl before her: peaceful and cozy in Trixie’s embrace. She sighs before neatly untangling herself from Katya’s arms and slinking out of bed.

Katya wakes to the smell of freshly cracked eggs drifting through the apartment. And blinks away her tiredness. She rolls onto her stomach, taking some duvet with her, and stretches her spine, feeling the satisfying cracks echo through her vertebrae. She rolls half over and suddenly becomes aware of the grandeur of the space she’s in. The distant corners of the room are still darkened but from where she is, she can tell the bedroom is easily twice the size of Katya’s. It’s decorated cozily, shelves decked with personal mementos and charming trinkets. The bed is luxurious, to say the least, blanketed in a thick pink velvet duvet and an overwhelming number of pillows. Katya groans, sitting up, and abandoning the bed.

The soft sizzle of oil in a pan becomes more audible as Katya meanders down Trixie’s staircase.
Trixie stands at the marble counter wearing a simple lace bralette and lounge pants. The frying pan is overflowing with ingredients: eggs, some kale, vegetarian bacon, a potato, and a few other unidentifiably cooked vegetables sizzling in the middle. There are two porcelain plates sat next to the pan with slices of toast sitting on them, one of which Trixie is delicately scraping a pat of melting butter onto.

Katya approaches Trixie from behind, smiling wide.

“You made breakfast?” She mumbles softly into Trixie’s neck, wrapping arms around the girl's waist. The corners of Trixies mouth turn up.

“Of course, you deserve it” Trixie replies before setting down the piece of bread she was working on and spinning around in Katya’s arms. Their foreheads rest against each other’s and they kiss tenderly. Katya breaks it, unable to hold on her giggles.

“What?” Trixie whines, Katya’s grin spreads further.

“I like you”

“You’re stupid” Trixie replies, unable to stop herself from mirroring Katya’s contagious smile.
They move to the other side of the island counter, sitting on the swiveling barstools and slowly munching away at the meal between conversation.
Katya gets up to put the silverware and plates into the dishwasher, stacking the plates carefully between the racks. She turns back around only to almost bump noses with Trixie. She steps back, leaning into the counter to regain her balance. Trixie puts a hand on the countertop, either side of Katya’s hips. Their lips brush before they connect, languid and sweet. Katya sucks on Trixie’s bottoms lip before licking the swollen flesh and sucking again.

Trixie breaks the kiss suddenly and Katya frowns at the loss of contact. Trixie reaches out for Katya’s hand, fumbling with it limply until it is comfortable in her own palm. She turns on her heel confidently and leads Katya across the apartment towards the stairs.

“I have a favour to ask of you, you can say no, though” Trixie begins , Katya nods tentatively.
They turn the corner to Trixie’s bedroom once again, much less rushed than the night before, but with a similar excitement. Trixie traipses ahead to her nightstand and pulls out a strapon.
Trixie doesn’t even need to use one of the explanations she had prepared in her head before Katya is vigorously nodding, and motioning for Trixie to hand her the toy. She steps into it, sliding it over her black underwear and adjusts it accordingly.

Trixie lays back on her elegant bedding, her entire body engulfed in a sea of velvet duvet. Katya approaches Trixie slowly, but does not take any time discarding Trixie’s sweatpants and bralette, leaving her in only her panties.

Katya spends even longer on Trixie’s breasts than Trixie had for her the night before. Trixie's tits are bigger and more sensitive than Katya’s, she enjoys teasing them as Trixie squirms beneath her. Katya dips her face into Trixie’s cleavage, grabbing a handful of her breasts as she goes. She moves to lazily kiss around Trixie’s nipple, slowly moving in before getting to the center. Trixie chuckles sweetly, feeling a tingling in her stomach. Katya continues working her tire until they are overstimulated and Trixie is panting, lifting herself from the mattress with every one of Katya’s caresses.

Katya finally works herself down to Trixie’s center, removing her lacy panties on the way down. Trixie is already soaking wet.

Katya starts with one finger briefly before adding another. She gently pumps her two digits and Trixie is already hazy with pleasure. Katya moves her fingers in and out lazily, until Trixie pleads with her to use the strap.

Trixie widens her legs for Katya to situate herself between Trixie’s thighs and position the head of the strap at her entrance. Katya begins slowly: easing it halfway in, pulling back out, and sliding back in. Katya moves her hips ever so slightly and Trixie whines. After doing this a few times Katya slides all the way down to the base of the strap. Trixie lets out a long moan, dropping her head onto the pillow. Katya starts rocking her hips in a slow steady rhythm, thrusting all the way into Trixie before sliding out. Trixie breathes small moans with every one of Katyas movements. Once she feels more adjusted she starts to move with Katya more. Katya revels in the view, Trixies head back, eyes scrunched closed, her tits bouncing animatedly with every thrust of Katya’s hips.

“I- f- fuck” Trixie whimpers, her body shaking with pleasure. Katya cranes over her and reconnects their lips, Trixie arches her back to deepen the kiss, Katya still slamming into her.

Trixie steals away. “Shit- Katya, I’m so close,” Katya intensifies her thrusts and Trixie sees spots in her vision. Trixie scrunches her eyes closed and jerks her hips, coming hard.

“Fuck!” Pleasure crackles through her, she feels static in her fingertips. Katya eases her movements as Trixie comes down, and pulls out of her. Trixie flickers her eyes open and smiles softly.
“How about we finish that French lesson?

Notes:

THANK YOU FOR READING!! Hope you liked it :)

thanks so much to all of you guys who have read this whole thing or have been commenting or leaving kudos!! Reading your comments seriously makes my day!

 

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Notes:

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!
pls leave any kind of feedback if you enjoyed it or if you didn't
updates coming soon

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HAVE A GOOD DAY ILY