Fool For You (Trixie/Katya × Reader - Part 7)

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A/N: This sucks and I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. I also didn't proofread lmao.

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As the days passed, they turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months. The more time that you spent with Katya, the better you began to feel. Neither you or Brian had made any contact with each other since your argument. Though, there were times during the days when he passed your mind. You often wondered what he was doing and how he was doing, but you knew better than to pursue the questions any further, and they remained nothing more than just passing thoughts. You wished that things had ended on better terms, but what was done was done.

It had been 6 months, and in that time you had kept yourself focused on work and keeping yourself together. Had it not been for Katya, you weren't sure if you would have even made it through as well as you had. You owed a lot to her, but luckily, she wasn't the type of person to hold things over your head. All you really had to do was indulge her obvious fetish in cheesy movie references, and she was perfectly happy.

She was currently gearing up for one of her first drag performances since her break. So, that meant that you were currently her makeshift audience while she pranced around her living room in full drag lip syncing to a Nine Inch Nails song.

It wasn't a bad job to have, for the obvious reasons.

Since you had been living with her, the two of you had become even closer than you were before, and the fact that you two were still actively fucking each other whenever you wanted helped with that. It was a 'no strings' type of relationship. Katya didn't do a lot of dating, and after your ordeal with Brian, you definitely had your reservations about getting involved with someone for a long time. Besides, you were very content with how things were currently going, there was no drama and you were allowed to just do what you wanted to do with no worries

She was still dancing around the living room, she was completely lost in her own little world, but she kept her eyes on you the whole time and she moved along to the beat of the song. It was good to see her back at her craft. She had come a long way, and she seemed to be happier than ever. As the song began to come to an end, she skunked over towards you, falling over onto the couch beside you, the sweat beading up on her forhead.

"You look like you just got fucked by 7 guys," you snickered at her.

"Oh, mama, that's a normal Tuesday," she wiped her forehead, cutting her eyes to you as she rubbed her fingers across your forehead.

You audibly objected and pushed her hands away playfully, "You are disgusting."

"What's disgusting is leaving you wondering whether that was sweat or semen," she smiled at you cheekily.

"God, why did I ever move in with you?" you shook your head at her.

She turned to you and slide closer, laying her chest against yours, "Because you can't get enough of my pussy, bitch."

"Hmm," you sighed, "I think I could say the same."

"I'm waiting for you to die so I can launch your corpse into space and collect the money," she smiled again.

"Does everything go back to Contact for you?" You scoffed.

She leaned in and pressed her forehead against yours, "Everything that matters, bitch."

"Awwe," you cooed, "Are you saying that I matter?"

"I'd make a jab and tell you no, but you just got over your crying fits," she sighed and rolled over onto the couch.

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