Fontanelle

by castlesprod

Summary:

Victoria asks Cassie to strap her for the first time, with mixed results.

Notes:

wherein cassie mckay is put through 5000 emotional saw traps for not being strap slinger monster dildo wielder like yolanda garcia

the song is fontanel by eartheater!

There are times when it doesn’t even feel real. Cassie and Victoria, McKay and Javadi, Cassie and Javadi and Victoria and McKay - their names, the building blocks of themselves, waiting and biding their time until the pendulum swings back and beckons them forth. Cassie can hardly believe herself; wakes up most days struck with a halfhearted sense of longing, and a guilt that feels stolen, borrowed, simmering in the hearth.

Sweet and sour, she knows, but it’s worth it. She’s worth it. And Cassie is no stranger to the pendulum’s favor.

(Sometimes she thinks she’s ill. It’s worse when they have sex. That clawed-out fervor, all-demanding, pounding in her ears telling her to take and take that only quiets down when she offers herself up to Victoria- go on, take what you need, I won’t say anything, we can pretend. Pretend this is okay. Am I okay? It doesn’t matter, you’re all that matters. I’ll tell myself until I believe it.)

A couple weeks after they’d started seeing each other, Cassie had passed out on Victoria’s bed, then awoken to the sounds of rustling and a barely-concealed noise of discontent.

Bone-tired, Cassie asked her what was wrong. If she had a bad dream.

“No, I'm okay. You can go back to sleep, really, it’s nothing.” Victoria found Cassie’s face, petting her cheek as if she were a child. The irony was not lost on her.

One of her legs was swung over Cassie’s thigh. Blinking the drowsiness away, Cassie flexed her hand near the cradle of Victoria’s hip, pressing down, groaning as she felt the shift, the heat of her on her thigh.

“Oh,” Victoria said dumbly.

“You’re hot.”

“It’s fine, really, you don’t have to-“

Fuck. She was doing it again. Making her needs small. Cassie couldn’t stand it, the way she ducked her head, shrouded herself, but Cassie knew what she needed. Fumbling in the dark, she pressed her palm to Victoria’s mouth, raised her knee higher and dug harder on the skin of her hip and watched as she unfurled.

“Mmfh.” Victoria fell forward, black hair fawning out over Cassie.

Her hips jerked once, and she licked at Cassie’s palm, in an act of defiance or an involuntary bodily reaction, Cassie didn’t know. She only knew that this- that this was the totality, the sum of everything she’d been trying to tell her, don’t hide, just don’t let me hide, too…

Cassie took her hand off. “Do you want my mouth?”

Victoria’s eyes widened, big as saucers. “It’s late, I don’t- I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not a bother. It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Cassie laid her head down, moved further down the pillow, “Hey. Here. Take what you want.”

Victoria nodded meekly, shucked her shorts off and used the headboard to support herself as she got into position, thighs bracketing Cassie’s head. Still wobbly, this dizzying, sweeping feeling took hold of her at the first touch. Breathe, she had to remind herself.

Cassie opened her jaw as far as she could, stuck her tongue out and let Victoria ride it in waves, sucked when she asked, groaned when she groaned, fingernails digging into her ass to encourage her movements. Victoria, Cassie wanted to moan as she rutted against her face so hard she thought she may pass out, may permanently alter the charting-course of the peaks and valleys of her unending life, Victoria, Victoria.

~

She’d never gotten as intense as she had that first time. After the nighttime incident, Victoria loosened, ever so slightly. When she’d wake up in the middle of the night, restless and cloaked in shadows from a phantasmal dream she couldn’t remember, more and more she took, and more and more Cassie begged. The vision of her, slumped and spent as she trailed two fingers down the slick ruin of Cassie’s mouth and chin, then finally laid her head to rest on Cassie’s beating heart..

She’d foregone apologizing entirely about a month in; Cassie took note of this, just as she took note of many other things: how it took longer for her to brush her teeth in the morning than at night, how she’d set her phone down (awkwardly, quickly, usually face-down) when she received a text from her mother, her cherry chapstick pout when she couldn’t reach the highest shelf at the grocery store. Cassie was enamored. But more than that, she was humbled, fiercely and deeply, confronted by this cosmic pull she’d been denying for over a year and all that was left now was to touch, to confirm, to pass over and say, I’m sorry. It was you.

(She still feels it, sometimes. The loss, the heartbreak. The erosion. It goes unspoken. She knows Victoria doesn’t blame her, dawdles around and says stuff like “we have all the time in the world”, but all Cassie can think is what if I don’t what if I don't- and, more importantly, what if I can’t..)

Cassie fingered Victoria in her car after work twenty days ago. It wasn’t planned- it never is, not unless you count the sly looks they’d exchanged beforehand, but then that was par for the course. It was Victoria’s second day back at PTMC, an intern this time, enrolled in their four year residency program after she’d graduated med school. She was welcomed with open arms. Santos, Whitaker, Dana…Al-Hashimi seemed especially delighted (which tugged at nothing in Cassie’s chest, to be clear). They managed to steer clear of Garcia; again, that was more for Cassie’s benefit, but really, how awkward could it be? Months had passed. There was nothing left to say.

“I want you to let go,” Victoria said, muffled into Cassie’s jacket, the setting sun in the distance.

“What?”

She pulled back. “I want you to be exactly who you are. With me. Can you do that?”

“You think I’m not?”

Victoria gnawed on her bottom lip. “I think there are things I don’t know.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“When you get that look, what are you thinking about?”

“What look?” Cassie asked, trying not to come across as defensive. She adjusted her sleeves, rolled her neck. The carseat dug into it when they were…moving.

“The one you have on right now.”

It took Cassie a long while to respond. Victoria kissed her cheek.

“I’m thinking that I…that I might be a bad person. For feeling more with you than I ever…”

“It isn’t bad to feel.”

Cassie swallowed loudly. “I know that. I just…why do you make me feel like that? Like you’re confirming my whole life, like everything I ever did is okay?”

“Because it is okay. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“No, it isn’t, Vic. It’s ugly. It’s all ugly. You don’t know the half of it. I was-“

“Stop. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that. I mean, my mom made me think that people didn’t deserve second chances. That whatever you were is what you’re always going to be. But I have a mind of my own. This isn’t the fucking caste system,” Victoria dropped a delicate kiss to the pad of Cassie’s finger, the one that was inside of her minutes ago, “We’re equals, right?”

“Yeah,” Cassie could do nothing but stare, now, “We are.”

Their sex life is good. All things considered, Victoria is the best Cassie’s ever had, counting and not counting the not-entirely-lucid encounters of her youth, times where she is yet to be sure what exactly happened, only that something did happen. Something bloated and monstrous, a perilous sea creature washed up on shore.

But…she has a complex. And she knows this, because she knows herself, the way one knows not to ask for seconds because it will open the floodgates and invariably they’ll ask for thirds, fourths, fifths…

You never knew when to leave well enough alone, Cassandra.

Cassie doesn’t know when this started, exactly. She thinks maybe it’s always been there, brimming just beneath the surface. When she first met Victoria, she was just…Victoria. The med student. Her med student. But the lines got blurred, and really, it was as inevitable as anything, that this would eventually bloom into something they both had no control over. (Cassie’s concept of the word has been waning as of late - she finds it improbable, now, to think that either of them have any real control over the other. But every time they’re together, she wants to ask Victoria, did you fall apart, too?)

Victoria is patient, with her. Probably more than she deserves. At times it registers as a dull humdrum, a constant, aching reminder that despite the caverns that separate them - of life experience, of pedigree - she’s entering something entirely new, a world she’s never known before. They both are. Well…

She fucked me. With a strap. I wanted- I wanted to feel whole.

Why did she ask? Sometimes Cassie goes through it all in her head. Calculating. The steps of that day, the rhythms. She’d like to think it was out of character, the whole routine, nothing more than a side effect of a bad cold. But the contagion remains.

Victoria brought it up first. She’d been pawing at Cassie’s shirt, then dancing across her belt, nimble fingers working themselves to undo the leather, when suddenly she halted all her movements.

Cassie’s hand found Victoria’s cheek in an instant, smoothing, rubbing over. “What is it, baby?”

Victoria loved it when Cassie called her that. Confessed a couple weeks ago in the dimness of her apartment, tongue pressed against the pad of Cassie’s thumb like it belonged there. Like she’d found the cheat code to mold every surface of Cassie’s body to her own. And maybe she had. I wanna be good for you. I know, baby. You are. What? You like that? You know I do. Wanna hear you say it.

“I want…,” Victoria cleared her throat, ducked her head so her lips just barely brushed along the waistband of her pants and took a kind of cruel delight in the way McKay’s hips subtly rocked forward, “I wanna try something.”

Even if it stays behind my eyes

I can’t deny

It’s on my mind

This fantasy

Fell from heaven

You fell right through my fontanel

“Okay,” Cassie said breathlessly.

Victoria’s hands started working again. Lazily, almost, with an air of infuriating unhurriedness, pulling Cassie’s pants down and licking her through the damp patch of her briefs like she didn’t care if she came or not. It took Cassie threatening to not return the favor for Victoria’s mouth to kick into action, taking all of her in, sucking her clit and twisting a finger inside. Cassie lasted one minute.

“I was thinking that I wanted more of you,” Victoria began after they’d cleaned up, tracing idle patterns on Cassie’s wrist, “Just- when I was with…”

“You can say her name. I’m not gonna burst into flames.”

Victoria chuckled at that, “I liked how it felt. But it wasn’t- I mean, we weren’t looking at each other. It was just a thing that I did, that was happening to me, and she happened to be there. It would be different, with you. Everything is different.”

“But you chose her.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I already tried choosing you.”

Cassie deflated a bit, tucked her head in Victoria’s chest. She didn’t like being reminded of that. Of the time they could’ve had, if she just…stopped being such a coward, bucked up and faced the music. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just be with me.”

“Okay,” Cassie nuzzled deeper, taking in a grounding, steadying breath, “so, you want me to strap you?”

It was a deflection, maybe. Or just a continuation of their conversation. She tried her best attempt at her signature low, gravely sexy voice (which Victoria had commented on, but it always got higher when she was close, these whiny, doglike moans she tried to muffle against her hand, or Victoria’s neck).

Victoria had the decency to blush. Took Cassie’s wrist and pressed it to her mouth, looked down at her with such precision, such single-minded focus, that Cassie had to look away. Sometimes it was just…too much.

“Yeah. I really do.”

“I don’t know how…I’m not like Garcia. I don’t have this levy of experience. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Stop,” Victoria muttered softly, tilting Cassie’s chin up with two fingers so she could seal their lips together, a soft, sweet thing, “you’re all that I want. Don’t get in your head about that. Hey,” she had to tilt her up again, “Do you wanna fuck me?”

“More than anything in the world.”

Victoria kissed her jaw. “Good, then. You’re already halfway there.”

God, she was so sweet. So fucking sweet. She didn’t know any of it, the storm brewing in Cassie’s head. Yes, she wanted to fuck her, fuck her so hard she screamed and shook and clawed at the sheets, or down Cassie’s back like animal prints, like nails on a chalkboard, and think no one’s ever reached this deep inside me before, and Cassie would respond, telepathically, and now no one else ever will.

Could she ask that? Fuck, Victoria still winced at two fingers sometimes, how could she take a proper-sized cock? How did she take Garcia’s?

“How deep did she go?”

“Fuck, Cass.” Victoria flicked her head. “Weirdo.”

Cassie searches. She feels sick for doing it- also a little embarrassed, struck with humility when she sees the sheer expanse of different sizes, colors, whips and gadgets and harnesses and boxers and the rings that slide the dildo into place. The semi-realistic (or fully realistic) ones don’t really appeal to her at first, but then she thinks about pounding into Victoria with a cock almost indistinguishable from her own body and her hand flies to the seat of her pants and she rubs herself at lightning speed and chokes into her hand, so. Maybe it does do something for her.

She’s been online for hours, hunched over her laptop and neglecting all of her other needs. She’d meant to discuss it with Victoria before looking, but curiosity got the best of her, and her search parameters were wider this way, anyway. There were some that gave the wearer stimulation, or at least claimed to, which Cassie thought she should steer clear of but which, like the realistic ones, formed a nugget inside her brain she found she couldn’t easily dislodge.

(It seeps into her, drips poison like a broken faucet, the awareness that this isn’t her scene the way it’s Yolanda’s. That she’s only slept with two women before Victoria and that neither of them involved toys. Where does she even start? Are there tutorials on this? Victoria probably expects - if not expertise, then at least...something. And Cassie can’t give her that.)

She knew Victoria wasn’t being intentionally disparaging, calling her a weirdo, but she still let the comment get under her skin. She was a weirdo. And inexperienced, at least with this, and God, what if she couldn’t make Victoria cum? Was it normal to get this brand of performance anxiety as a fourty-three year old woman with a son and a blossoming career in emergency medicine, with bills to pay and lives to save?

No. The answer was no. Still, it felt…like something major had been discovered, like bedrock exposed, like she was just now coming into a truth about herself she’d been putting off for years. It had been so long, too long, since she’d been on a date, even, much less had sex or thought about sex- not in the literal sense, God no, but in the existential what do I really want and what does this make me if I want it kind of way. Could she be able to unlock the door, the gates of destiny revealing the shutter-shock curtains fanning out over the end stages of her life if Victoria let her strap her within an inch of her own?

“What do you want?” Cassie asks inconspicuously, Victoria’s feet on her lap as they watch a movie.

It was her turn to pick. They’ve been staying over at Victoria’s more, and slowly but surely, she’s been sprucing up the place. Last week, Cassie hung up a poster of The Vampire Diaries with that industrial non-stick stuff she’d swiped from her own apartment when Harrison wanted a Fathead of his favorite basketball player for Christmas, and okay, there she goes paralleling them again.

(Victoria wanted to do it, but she couldn’t quite reach, and then she’d asked, with a hidden, teasing lilt to her voice, how is The Vampire Diaries different than Twilight? And the immediate twinge in Victoria’s brows made it all worth it.)

She’s had more questions than answers lately. Well, maybe she always had.

“Want what?”

“I mean, the strap. Size, color, texture…”

Victoria gets this sparkle in her eye, and then she carefully untangles her legs from Cassie’s lap and scoots closer to her, their shoulders touching against the couch pillows.

“Kinda thought you were gonna surprise me.”

“Tori, I don’t…I wanna know what you want. This isn’t about me.”

Victoria tilts her head. “It kinda is,” she glances down at Cassie’s crotch meaningfully, then finds her eyes again, her own doe-like, effervescent as they often are, “It’s for both of us. To make us feel good.”

“To make us feel good,” Cassie repeats, voice lower, almost in a trance as Victoria presses a finger to the seam of her mouth. Not quite in a silencing motion, not quite to suck, but…something else.

Cassie can’t help it. She bows her head ever so slightly and sucks, half-amazed and half-hopeful that Victoria will use her again, force her head down or ride her thigh, anything to empty her roaring mind… Don’t let me do this, she is thinking. Don’t let me hate myself.

**

Her second search proved slightly less of a humiliation ritual. Armed with Victoria’s requests (purple, no balls, decent size but not too decent (Cassie tried to ignore this part, the thump in her chest as Victoria recounted how big Yolanda was, although- surprisingly or not surprisingly- she wasn’t, which Cassie took a perturbed, distorted sense of pride in. Another thing to investigate later, or never.))

She purchases one on her phone, and the accompanying harness, no-frills, a little on the expensive side but it’s a worthy investment. It will get here in five days. She can be normal until then.

(She can’t.)

The strap-on arrives on Tuesday. It shipped to Victoria’s, a discreet package she quickly intercepted and opened without much consideration, crossing her legs on instinct as she took the dildo in hand and studied it, imagining it attached to Cassie, or to herself. With Garcia, she hadn’t had much input (well. Obviously.), but it was a pleasant experience, as pleasant as she imagines first-time-rebound sex could be. Cassie is Cassie. It would be different, with you. Everything is different.

She doesn’t know the full extent of what Cassie likes; had tried to ask on more than one occasion but it was like her throat closed up. She knows…bits and pieces. Things she can infer. Like the way Cassie always stutters inside of her when she tells her to go harder, faster. Like she’s Bella and Cassie is Edward, fearing her vampiric powers might be enough to shatter her completely.

Victoria thinks about telling her that she’s already shattered - not like that, just…that she doesn’t have to hold back. That there’s nothing Victoria could see that would scare her, or make her shy away. (Sometimes Victoria wonders if Cassie even wants her. At least Garcia could say it, all the things she’d wished streamed from Cassie’s mouth instead..)

But then that line of thought is markedly unproductive. She strokes the fake dick again and puts it away, sighing into her hands.

When Cassie arrives later, Victoria can’t contain herself. She’s all over her.

“Hey. It’s here,” she manages between kisses, tugging Cassie in by the waistband of her pants.

Cassie chuckles. “Someone’s excited.”

Victoria kisses her again, deeper, paying no mind to the way Cassie fumbles to set her bag down on the countertop. She grips the fabric of Cassie’s shirt, noses up her neck and smells of home, home..

“I want you..”

“Baby,” Cassie breathes out painfully, pitifully, hips knocking against Victoria’s, “you want it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let me get ready.”

Cassie disentangles from their embrace, ignoring the groan it pulls from Javadi, checks her phone and gives Victoria one final kiss before scurrying off to the bathroom, grabbing the (now-opened) box along the way.

She can’t be sure how long she just…stares at it. Stares at herself in the mirror, hates what she sees, scrubs her face raw and brushes her hair like a madwoman and she thinks she’s two seconds away from an impending breakdown. Why is her face like that, can she ever get clean? Victoria will know, sniff out her sickness like a loyal hound dog and cut off the whole thing-

Cassie sits on the toilet, shimmies her pants down to her knees and inspects the harness. Fingers the nylon material, then lets it fall at her side, that same queasy feeling overtaking her. Her early sexual experiences were all, for the most part, transactional. Sucked dick in the bathroom for a couple of lines. Pounding bass, delirium. Throwing up outside with a hand planted firmly against the brick wall. Sucked a woman off, too. She gave her more.

“Cassie?” Victoria knocks gently against the door.

She groans, and it might’ve sounded bad enough to warrant Victoria coming in (the door wasn’t locked, anyway), because she does, concern etched across her face when she sees her.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna pressure you, are you- are you okay? Cassie? Do you need-“

“I’m okay. Don’t…,” Cassie waves her off.

Victoria crouches, looks at her pale, bare thighs. Then down to the strap-on still gripped loosely in Cassie’s hand. Gently, she takes it from her, fiddles with it briefly before setting it down beside them.

“We don’t have to. It was just an idea,” Victoria says, voice unsure.

“But you want to.”

“Not if you don’t. I just thought this way you could…finally tell me. Or show me, I guess.”

“Show you what?” Cassie is pleading, now. She thinks she may actually cry.

“You.”

Cassie is speechless. Her throat is bone-dry. All she can do is nod, even though she can’t possibly know what for. With Victoria like this, haloed beneath her, eyes reflecting the unsung paths of light around them, she could do anything she wanted. Anything at all. So when Vic begins peeling her pants off all the way, kissing every revealed inch of skin, it’s too much. It’s - peace.

“Can I help you?” she asks, gazing up at Cassie.

Another nod.

Carefully, precisely, Victoria loosens the plastic and lets Cassie slip into it, stopping when it hits the tops of her thighs and rising up to stare back at her.

“I read the instructions, before,” she explains, a little sheepishly, as if trying to not come off as overzealous.

Cassie kisses her on the mouth, and lets Victoria finish adjusting, re-buckling and tightening the straps around her waist as if she were a worker at an amusement park. (It doesn’t fully dawn on her until later how tender the act is, even as she feels pinpricks in her eyes.)

She feels an apology is in order, for even having Victoria be the one to do this, something as simple as putting on a strap-on-

“Now for the finishing touch,” Victoria says grandly, clearly trying to make Cassie laugh, which she does. Of course she does.

“Sorry for killing the mood.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m like, so wet right now.”

Cassie understands she’s joking, but she’s still curious. There was some heavy petting when she first walked in, but that was like…half an hour ago by now. Well, it doesn't matter, because the dildo is attached, Victoria secured it, and Cassie looks down and…huh. There it is.

Victoria gives an experimental tug, and her cheeks flush. She can’t feel it, but she can feel it happening, like anything Vic did to it she’d also be doing to her because it’d be happening to her, too (and is this the realization for everyone?). Her delicate hands wrap around the purple cock, and she thumbs the head like it’s real and Cassie thinks she could die.

“Can we get outta here?” Cassie doesn’t fully recognize her own voice.

She’s led out to the bedroom, where Victoria instructs her to sit-stand by the bed, and there’s a whole ‘nother beast of self-consciousness rearing its ugly head as she tries not to be embarrassed by the dick bobbing between her legs. Victoria said something about that, once. How just existing is embarrassing, sometimes, and the only way to get out is to get through. Are they out? Will they ever be?

“Is this…sexy?”

Victoria takes her shirt off and flings it across the room. No bra. Nice. “Yes,” she says decidedly.

Cassie sits properly on the bed, raises up her own arms as Victoria strips her shirt and sports bra off (she’s only undressed her a few times before. But Cassie doesn’t wanna dwell in that. She just wants…this). Lips find her neck, and she gasps when they hit that spot on the right side of her ear.

When Victoria softens her mouth, Cassie moves away slightly, addressing her, “Shouldn’t I be doing this to you? Foreplay and all?”

“You are my foreplay. You, just existing. You could paint drywall and it would turn me on. Hey! Don’t laugh.” Cassie stops, because she senses the thread of vulnerability lurking within her tone, “I never thought I could have you. ..No one’s ever made me feel the way you do, you know? But sometimes I can feel you pulling away.”

“Because I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“That hurts me. You know I can handle it.”

“I know…,” Cassie groans, hand automatically going to cover Victoria’s on her own thigh, “I know it isn’t fair. There’s just, the things that I want, I-” she clenches her jaw, “you wouldn’t think of me any differently?”

“Cassie. Of course not,” Victoria says seriously.

Cassie laces their fingers together. Victoria is staring at the dildo again, like she’s just remembered it’s there. That makes two of us, Cassie starts to think, but then Vic takes it in her hand and pushes the base against Cassie this time, watching on with glee as she moans softly, and she cannot think any more.

It’s the first time it occurs to her with any sort of bright-eyed clarity just how turned on she is - her clit throbs in tune with her heartbeat, and when she shifts her thighs feel wet- uncomfortably so, and it only gets worse when Victoria drops to her knees, licks her lips and wraps them, gingerly, around the tip.

“Oh…”

Victoria looks at her, assessing, and takes her in more. Swallows the head and a couple more inches of the length, and Cassie’s hips stutter without meaning to, because the sight of Victoria’s mouth around her cock (and could she call it that? Her cock? Was she allowed? Was that proper strap-on etiquette?) sparks such a deep, firelight arousal in her lower belly. She can hardly stand it.

She’s doing- good, Cassie thinks, fuck, she’s wet, fuck- and she doesn’t wanna hurt her, but then, she realizes, this is what Victoria wants. And this is what she wants, too. So she threads her fingers through Victoria’s hair, scrapes at the base of her skull, and pushes her hips forward.

Vic gags. Cassie tries to pull away, but she’s got her other hand secured around the base, and she doesn’t let the dildo slip out. The sounds…slurping, gentle moans, the silicone hitting the soft palate of her throat..

“Is this okay?” she asks, and Victoria pops off the strap to nod, frantically, and there is spit everywhere, collecting at the corners of her mouth, bubbling out, and Cassie is a fucking mess. It hurts, her clit is so swollen she thinks she’d cum from one careless swipe, and she wonders dreamily how many more thrusts it would take for Victoria to cry.

“Fuck, Vic. You’re perfect. Oh, my God. Wish you could see yourself right now. You like when I fuck your mouth?”

Victoria twists the cock back with her wrist and it knocks against her clit, and Cassie moans raggedly, bites into her hand to muffle the sound. She’s in pieces. Her cock falls out, and she grabs it, squeezes, strokes it a little like she can feel it, and sits it on Victoria’s tongue. Once more, Victoria sucks in as much as she can, the two inches she can’t reach are covered by her hand, circular motions- and God, where did she learn this?

But that doesn’t matter, because Vic’s saliva coats her cock, the connective string as she pulls away, and Cassie needs her mouth right now, needs to feel the suction, this isn’t enough- she acknowledges later, with the sort of clarity that only comes once one is distally removed from the moment, how unseeming it would be to push the straps out of the way and force Victoria’s mouth on her clit, but she can’t stop..

“Vic, I’m so close- fuck, please-“ she grits out, grabs the dildo and moves it upwards, her other hand still fisted in Victoria’s hair. She wonders if Victoria can smell her. Then, she thinks, there’s no way she can't.

“No,” Victoria says sturdily, sitting back on her heels and wiping the obscene amount of spit from her mouth, “I want you inside me.”

“Baby, please. Please. It’ll be so quick. I can’t-“

“Yes, you can.” Victoria doesn’t move.

Cassie feels her clit, cunt pulse. She feels wrecked. Was this Victoria’s plan all along? Make a mess of her, leave her begging, a pathetic thing, reduce her to her bare elementals and then wash her hands of it all? Does she enjoy this? You have so much control, I can’t believe I ever thought- I’m sorry, do what you wish…

There’s a few seconds where they’re just staring at each other. Then Victoria strips fully down, and Cassie readjusts herself, making sure the dildo sits at the right angle. Her ears flush at the knowledge that she could just reach down, slither through the harness, and cum from a few well-timed strokes of her clit. She chooses to ignore this.

Victoria gets up. Lays on her, and the wet cock pressed between them, against her stomach, and she’s kissing her, tongue searching, searing into her mouth. Cassie has never been more horny in her life.

“I wanna fuck you,” Cassie mutters, says it like she’s at confession, voice needy, scraped raw.

“You wanna fuck me?”

“Can I?”

“Feel me,” Victoria says, and it isn’t a command, but to Cassie it lands like one. She’d go anywhere Victoria asked. She’d throw herself to the wilds for her.

Victoria is- hot. Cassie reaches to stroke through her folds with two fingers, and she’s so hot, she’s sopping, Cassie could fit in three, easy. Fuck. She settles for one, sliding in down to the knuckle and rubbing against that spongy spot inside of her and Victoria kicks a leg out and Cassie steadies her hip with her hand, says something about calming down, which they both find incredibly ironic.

“S-stop. I don’t wanna cum yet,” Victoria shudders, grateful when Cassie pulls out and doesn’t make any effort to touch her clit. She doesn’t know if she would survive that. “Get on top of me.”

Cassie has never moved faster.

Victoria lets her legs fall apart, staring up at her with that devouring, devout expression- or maybe it’s new, maybe she’s never seen it before, all of this is new- reaching an apex previously unknown, uncharted waters. Cassie wants to explore everything. Every nook and cranny, all the things that make Victoria Victoria.

“Are you ready, baby?”

Victoria nods, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Cassie goes to kiss her again, but Victoria’s looking down at the strap, as if she’s just connecting the dots that it will go inside of her. For a brief moment, Cassie wishes she’d picked a smaller size. (Curse her dumb lust-addled brain, bigger isn’t always better, she knows this. But then, God, if her mouth took her that well, who knows what her cunt could do…)

“I’ll go slow, okay?” she offers, stomach doing flips. “Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“Wait, lube?”

Cassie’s face blanks.

“No, fuck, I didn’t buy any, I-“

Victoria cups her cheek, rubs over. Cassie’s breathing like crazy. “It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Cassie says, but she spits into her palm for good measure, lathers it around the cock as much as she can. Repeats the action for quality assurance.

She grabs the head and runs it through Victoria, bites back her own moan when it nestles against her clit and Vic jerks. Cassie tells her to breathe and she doesn’t know who needs to hear it more, not when she finally teases the toy at her entrance and they both still, no sound save for the ticking whirr of the ceiling fan, and no sound when she pushes inside, past the barely-there ring of resistance and into warm wetness.

She’s transfixed at the way her face changes, the slight pinch of her brows as Cassie eases more inside. Cassie uses one hand to cup Victoria’s jaw; Vic turns her head to try and suck her fingers.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so-“ Cassie’s speech eventually devolves into incoherent mumbling. She thinks she may purchase two burial plots for them both when she finally bottoms out.

Once she’s a few inches in, Cassie pauses her movements, letting Victoria get used to the feeling. She pushes away the voice telling her to snap her hips down and chase her own orgasm.

Victoria strums down her back, tightens her legs around Cassie’s waist. Breathe in, breathe out. The mantra.

“Is this okay? Are you-“

“Cass, stop. ‘M fine.” Victoria grips the dildo and arches up slightly, trying to angle herself to take more. Cassie moans. She doesn’t even know what she’s moaning for, specifically. Does it matter?

“Baby, you’re doing so good. Fuck. Can I have more? Can you give me more?”

“Patient,” Victoria reprimands, but she’s just as affected.

Cassie looks down, and- oh fuck- her pretty cunt is taking the strap so well, enveloping her cock, and her hips jump without her permission, driving in deeper-

“Sorry,” she says automatically when she catches Victoria wince, “sorry.”

But she feels Victoria’s fingers dig harder, almost pressing her down, and she looks to her, and sees- acceptance? Understanding? Urging her on? They’re both sweating, hips almost slotted together, just another inch and they’d be flush, skin-to-skin.

“Please fuck me,” Victoria begs, and Cassie catches the exhale with her mouth, tastes the gasp when she thrusts properly for the first time.

Both of their mouths open, their foreheads bumping together, and Cassie’s babbling again, squeezing Victoria’s tit in one hand and stabilizing herself with the other, but she still can’t…there’s still that voice in the back of her head, a warning signal, blaring in her eardrums…

“Cassie.”

Cassie blinks. She doesn’t move inside of her, but her hand trails down from her perky nipple to rest on her lower abdomen, just above her mound, and she presses down and her cheeks tint immediately. She can…she can feel herself. This little bulge under her patch of belly. She’s so enraptured she barely registers the hand on her face, but it’s there, Victoria is here, grounding her, and she licks and kisses at her fingers and glances at where their bodies connect once more, the contrast of skin tone, the flash of purple when Cassie draws out only to plunge back in.

“Cass, Cassiee-”

“Do you hear that? Oh, fuck, Victoria-” her voice splinters off, she’s gone, falling.

The sound of skin slapping skin unravels her, but Victoria’s wetness even more so, she hears it all around her, soaking her cock, soaking the sheets..

Victoria mouths at Cassie’s neck, gripping her weakly. She’s draped her body weight over the girl, her thrusts inconsistent, clumsy. Neither of them particularly care.

It feels too good to stop, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing but it doesn’t matter, every time she fucks into her and Victoria makes those half-grunt half-whimpers, keening off into a hiccuping sound. She has to grab herself when the cock slips out to push back in, but Vic takes her so well, like her cunt was made for Cassie- fuck, she has to stop thinking like that because she’s gonna cum-

“You gonna cum?” Victoria asks, grabs her face like playdoh. Cassie feels her stomach drop.

No, no, no, fuck, this wasn’t- this was supposed to be about you, I screwed it up, I screwed everything up-

Suddenly, everything quiets. “Yeah. ‘M gonna cum.”

She hears Victoria click her tongue in disapproval, and- oh, she likes that. Needs it, probably. Is this what she’d been monologuing about, the missing key in the lock?

“Call me pathetic.”

“What?”

“Please, just say I’m-just make fun of me, just…,” Cassie’s hips stutter as she trails off.

“...you’re pathetic. Can’t even trust you to make me feel good, not when you’re fucking yourself against me, so fucking…,” Victoria moans as the strap hits deeper, “needy, I- Cassie, fuck-”

Cassie whines, that oh-so familiar doglike sound, thrusting faster and sloppier as the friction gets better and better and she can’t imagine what would be greater than this, cumming inside her baby girl -

One more press against her clit and she falls, hips still rutting into her, and she doesn’t know why she called Victoria a loyal hound dog when it’s her, it’s always been her…she’s going to worship at Victoria’s feet for the rest of her days, build a shrine in her honor and never leave. She’d be happy to be the blanket Victoria drapes herself on. The stool she steps on.

Victoria smooths over her forehead, peels back her bangs slick with sweat, places a kiss to the crown of her head. Does she deserve this gentleness?

“I’m sorry…,” Cassie gets out, and Victoria presses their bare, sticky bodies together, ignoring the ache in her cunt, because she wants her to stay just a little longer, ignoring the frantic throb of her clit, because she finally saw her, her beautiful, glorious girlfriend.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“For what?” Cassie frowns.

Victoria gulps. “For making me feel like…me.”

Cassie carefully pulls out and Victoria helps her unbuckle the harness, throwing it on the floor with no regard for the mess.

“We’ll clean up later.”

“Later?” Victoria says cheekily, gets this twinkle in her eye.

“Later,” Cassie confirms, lightly taps her ass and they both break out into giggles. Home.

Notes:

thanks for reading comments kudos etc appreciated!

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Garcia & Javadi Canon