syn. ♱ daniela can’t keep her hands off you at the club; unfortunately, dani struggles with telling you what she wants. so, you take her to the bathroom and fix that.
warnings ♱ semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex, daniela being touchy, mentions of alcohol, sub!daniela, dom!reader, degradation, slight mami kink.
♫ ♱ body by don toliver, sex on the beach by adela .
the club was packed, bass thumping aggressively as you and dani danced together.
the latina wore a black shirt with matching baggy bottoms, her silver cross necklace shone brightly in the lights, gleaming in your eyes.
you matched her with a black dress that cut off at the knee, cross earrings dangling from your ears.
…
the building smelled of vodka and way too many shots; though, you didn’t mind.
another hype song came on, the crowd jumping up and down. the two of you were grinning at each other, jumping with the crowd.
the only thing that crossed your mind was how handsy daniela was being tonight.
it started at home; while you were fixing up your makeup she came up behind you, hand on your waist as she kissed your neck slowly.
“you look nice, amor. but do you still wanna go? we could just stay here..”
you brushed her off lightly, touching up your mascara. daniela’s lips formed into a pout, her hand sliding lower, towards your thigh.
“dani, control yourself, baby.”
you warned her, knowing how touchy she could get. you also knew what you’d end up doing if you didn’t stop her.
the latina huffed, removing her hand from your body. she kissed your hair instead, a non verbal apology.
now, at the club, she was barely holding back. you looked overly sexy in that dress, and she just wanted to reach her hand out, touch the skin beneath it-
no. she already said no. daniela thought, stuffing her hands in her pockets. you noticed her change of position; how she wasn't jumping, how stiff her posture was…which wasn’t the only thing that was stiff.
daniela’s erection was clear with how thin her pants were. she was pulsing, no doubt. probably pent up adrenaline, you thought.
then it hit you.
how she was acting earlier….with her hands roaming your body.
it couldn’t have been just from dancing.
you snapped out of your thoughts, pulling away from dani briefly. her head tilted, like a puppy almost.
you took her hand, leading the girl to the bathroom. she followed happily, going wherever you wanted.
once inside you led daniela to the biggest stall, locking the door. her fade was flushed, dick twitching pathetically in her pants.
“well, you have my attention now, dani. what is it you want, hm?”
the latina struggled to find the words, your sharp, low gaze making her nervous. you stalked towards the girl, pushing her against the stall door. the sound of the party faded in daniela’s ears, her mind only focused on you.
“go on, put your hands on me, baby. i won’t bite, i know you want to.”
daniela hesitated, which you didn’t like your hands went to her shoulders once again, making her face a deeper shade of red.
“oh, now you don’t want to? but you were desperate for it at home, and out there on the dance floor. what happened, daniela?”
your hand went from her shoulders down to her dick, brushing it slowly. daniela yelped, her knees buckling. you chuckled at her reaction, your lips close to hers.
“c’mon, daniela. take what you want. or i won’t go any further.”
at that daniela lunged forward and kissed you, hard. it was sloppy, your tongues meshing together.
her hands gripped your waist, causing you to gasp unexpectedly.
she continued to kiss you, grinding her hips into your hand. daniela whined, needing your hands on her cock.
you bit the girl’s bottom lip, making the latina shudder lightly. the two of you broke apart, a string of saliva between you.
daniela spoke up, her lips swelling from the intense kisses she gave you.
“i just…want you all over me, cariño. that’s why i was so handsy, so you’d maybe give me the same thing.”
you squinted your eyes, scanning your girlfriend’s figure. her eyes were pleading, full of desperation.
you smirked, cupping daniela’s dick through her pants. she threw her head back, groaning once more.
“god, you’re so pathetic for me baby. that’s all you ever want, yeah? my hands on your cock?”
the latina nodded, still bucking her hips into your hand. you take it away from her crotch, making daniela whine.
she grabbed your hand swiftly, guiding it to grip her cock firmly. she moaned rather loudly, knee almost buckling at the feeling.
“yessssss fuck- soy patético por ti, mami”
daniela’s words were rushed, her dick practically pulsing at this point. you did the poor girl a favor and shoved her pants down, a large bulge presented to you in her boxers.
you stuck your bottom lip out, a white spot also seen through her undergarments.
“dani, you’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you? can only focus on pleasure…don’t even care if anyone hears you in this bathroom. but you’re not embarrassed; because i’m taking care of this dick, yeah?”
daniela groaned again, two fast pulses flowing through her body. you gently removed her boxers, the fabric pooling at her ankles. you finally rubbed her tip with your thumb, smearing pre cum over her dick.
daniela was practically panting, a hand clenching the stall dispenser as another gripped your wrist.
“baby, please..i’ve been so good, please-”
daniela got whinier by the second, begging for you to make her feel good. her eyes were glazed over, looking into yours desperately.
you quit playing and stroked her from base to tip, making the latina cry out.
your hand pumped up and down daniela’s shaft, your lips connecting with hers as you did so. her hand fell into your hair, gripping it slightly. you moaned at the feeling, your hand working faster.
“mami you feel- so good, please keep going…”
you listened to your girlfriend, speeding up even more. the latina practically shivered, bucking her hips up like she was earlier. you knelt down, kissing your girlfriend’s tip slowly.
it made daniela practically screech, her face a deep red.
you quit stroking her cock and finally took it in your mouth. you swallowed half of her, bobbing your head slowly.
daniela let out little whimpers and moans as you sucked her off, knuckles practically white because of her grip. she slipped a hand in your hair, not daring to tug at it.
she knows you’ll stop if you rush her.
you pulled away from her cock, staring into her eyes as you kissed the tip and underside.
“look at you, so fucking ruined for me. you couldn’t wait any longer, slut? had to get me on my knees in this club, huh?”
daniela nodded, her climax getting closer and closer by the second. your voice, low and husky, was making her even weaker than she already was.
“mami i’m- i’m getting close”
the latina was able to get out, her whines getting louder. you reacted by sucking faster, taking a hand and stroking the part of her cock you couldn’t get to.
she was big, but you knew how to handle it.
your tongue swirled around her cock head, tasting her precum leaking slowly into your mouth. daniela gasped when you pulled away again, squeezing that same head as you stroked her quickly.
the girl’s legs began to tremble, panting lightly as you brought your girlfriend to the edge.
you pulled away once more, licking all the way to the tip. you let your tongue sit just below it, still stroking fast.
“go on dani, cum for me.”
daniela came with a strangled cry, ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue. when she was done you swallowed it all, getting up from your knees.
you kissed your shaking girlfriend, taking her hand into yours. you kissed all over her face, making her chuckle as the climax subsided.
“now, when we get home? i’m going to have even more fun with you, amor.”
synopsis . . . after a bitter and chaotic divorce, daniela and you can’t stand being in the same room — but for the sake of your little girl, you would do anything, including agree to couple’s therapy. it starts with weekly sessions of torture that relives the past and turns into the discovery that hate isn’t always the opposite of love.
contains . . . smut (wait for it!!!); p in v, oral (both receiving), angst, flashbacks (pls understand reader’s lore pls pls pls pls pls), mentions of family trauma(?). thats it.
word account . . . 6k words. i would have made this into two chapters instead of one but i decided to post the smut at once you’re welcome
masterlist. previous. next.
birthing a child was, in fact, a little like what you had seen on television. you had screamed and cried and yelled about how you hated daniela for doing this to you while she tried to calm you down and hold your hand. it was way more like the movies than you would’ve liked. but against your personal beliefs, you survived.
and daniela too. without having her fingers broken by your squeezing hand, good for her.
but for you, it took a lot more effort than you thought you were possibly capable of making. four days passed in the hospital and the doctors still weren’t completely sure you were ready to leave yet.
and you weren’t sure either, because you spent those days weak in a hospital bed, sleeping through half the day. you would wake up, play with your newborn, talk a little with daniela about what the doctors had said, eat that terrible hospital food and then fall asleep again. but between those naps, you saw family members too. they had come to see your baby, your mother stayed because she had come to see her baby. your mom and dani stayed awake together while you slept and that resulted in a conversation you remember to this day, even if you honestly couldn’t remember whether you had been in that hospital bed for a month or for a week.
you woke up and saw daniela on the couch next to your hospital bed, a black hoodie on her body, a loose bun in her hair. she had her eyes on the tv while some soccer game played. you watched her for a minute before speaking.
“hey.” your voice was hoarser than you thought it would be.
she immediately looked at you, a soft smile on her lips as she stood up and walked to your bed.
“hey, pretty.”
her hand touched your face to brush a strand of hair away from your forehead. daniela had the sweetest eyes for days now and even scared of everything ahead of you, they brought you some type of comfort and safety.
“where’s my mom?” you asked her as she sat by your side.
“she went to grab a coffee, she’ll be back in a minute.”
time was a different concept for you now that your sleep schedule had been completely changed, but you could still sense a minute.
“where’s my baby?” you pouted at her, her eyebrows raising as she pretended to be offended.
“i’m right here…”
you chuckled under your breath, adjusting yourself on the bed as she chuckled too.
“my other one, you idiot.”
she only rolled her eyes playfully. “she’s at the nursery, i’m gonna get her for you.” daniela leaned down to kiss your forehead and stood up to leave the hospital room. only then did you both notice your mom by the door, two hot coffees in her hands. daniela blushed a little, like she usually did because she was always shy around your parents, even after all this time. she smiled at your mom and left.
your mom still had her younger features as she got closer to your bed. she had that ease in her body that could only mean your father wasn’t around. he had probably gone home to change, or was helping daniela’s father with the move to the new apartment you guys had been given by your parents.
“she’s a good girl; daniela.” your mother started, and there was something in her voice…
“she is.” you heard her sigh. “what?”
“nothing. i think she’ll be a good mom, like you.” your mom sat by your side, adjusting the blanket over your body.
there was a minute of silence. your mother was very affectionate, just not very good at clear and direct communication.
“you’ll be a good mother too, but it’s important to remember what matters the most, you know?” she continued, taking a sip of her coffee as if she was just chatting about nothing important, but she had that look in her eyes.
“what matters the most?” you repeated.
“yes… i mean… sometimes things get hard, you know, it won’t always be like this. but kids need two parents.”
“mom…” you started.
“i’m just saying that kids need stability, that is more important than… being happy all the time.” she looked down at the coffee cup for a second before looking up at you again. “i’ve made my choice, maybe someday you’ll have to make yours as well.” she drank her coffee.
a second later daniela came through the door with your baby in her arms. you got so enchanted by elena that you forgot about what your mom had said, or what she had tried to say. you rocked the baby in your arms and let elena suckle on your milk with heart eyes.
you really, really forgot about what your mom had said. there were too many new things happening at once, there was a baby in your arms learning how to drink milk from you, you were sixteen, daniela was kissing your temple and offering you something to drink every five minutes, there was a tiny apartment waiting for you both. it was terrifying and exciting, building a life together and alone all at once.
back then, loving daniela still felt simple. the problems were the adjustments of being a mother, or working with your dad at a part-time job, or learning how to cook for your wife.
but the years passed and that changed. during the divorce, those words came back to you constantly. quietly. stubbornly.
kids need stability.
during every screaming match whispered after elena had gone to sleep. during every time you looked into daniela’s eyes and saw anger instead of the sweetness they once held. during every night you stared at the ceiling with your wife asleep by your side, wondering if leaving would be selfish and childish, if staying would make you a better mother, a better person, someone who wouldn’t make your daughter have two houses simply because you couldn’t make peace with the very same person you made her with.
but you grew up, you moved out, you were no longer a little girl who didn’t understand why daddy was sleeping in the guest room, and yet your mom stayed with him. perhaps she had no energy left to leave.
you decided to protect your own energy instead of protecting your daughter, and you still felt guilty about it every single time you remembered, so strongly that you felt your throat tighten and your vision blur.
perhaps you really were weak for leaving.
but not as weak as you had been last night.
fuck, last night was definitely not your best moment.
not something you were proud of, definitely.
the hot water felt like fucking holy water on your body. like it could wash your sins from last night, wash your mistake, wash your memories. it couldn’t, but it felt good. you washed your hair, you scrubbed your body, you brushed your teeth.
you still felt her touch on your skin as clearly as the night before. you could hear faint noises outside, she hadn’t left, she was still there for some reason. you brushed your teeth once more, practicing in your head what you would say when you left the peaceful, comfortable bubble of your bathroom, that right now felt like the whole world, protecting you from what you didn’t want to face.
but time passed anyway and you had to leave.
the towel around your body felt like a shield as you walked into the kitchen, daniela only wearing a t-shirt and her boxers, her messy hair in a loose bun as she made coffee.
it was her t-shirt. the one she gave you. so it was yours. she had to look through your closet to get it.
you sighed.
“what are you doing?” your voice sounded a little ruder than intended. you were tense.
“coffee.” she answered casually, then looked over her shoulder at you. the t-shirt was really old, from when she still played and got a lot of jerseys from her coach. “you need some, right?”
you only nodded, not trusting yourself enough to speak. watching her like this brought back way too many memories, some that you would rather bury and forget. so many mornings like this when you were still pregnant, you would come up behind her to hug her and let your head rest on her shoulder, she would kiss your forehead and say good morning with her raspy voice. now you couldn’t bring yourself to be less than ten feet away from her.
“actually, we should talk about last night, you know.” she fully turned to face you, looking at your wet hair. she loved seeing you with your hair wet, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “well, what happened can cause a lot of… questions.” her voice was strangely neutral.
“yes.” you finally found your voice. “yeah, we should talk, make everything clear.”
she gestured with her head for you to get closer and sat down in the kitchen chair. you hated how comfortable she made herself, but that was once her home, her kitchen, her clothes. just as you were once her wife.
“so…” you started, crossing your arms against your chest, fingers pressing against your skin underneath the towel. “last night shouldn’t have happened. we have a kid, we can’t just have a slip whenever you feel like it—”
“a slip? like we’re drug addicts or something?” she asked, so casually that it made you roll your eyes and keep talking.
“you know what i meant.” you shook your head. “it was irresponsible.”
she stared at you for a second too long. her honey eyes seemed like they could see your fucking soul and you hated it with your whole heart. then she huffed out a laugh through her nose.
your face heated up. “what?”
“you should rehearse it again. want me to give you five more minutes?”
you opened your mouth and closed it again. you hated how easily she could read you after all this time, how easy it was for her to remind you that you had spent seven years of your life married to her.
“i didn’t do it.” your voice got sharper.
“you sure?”
you sighed. “we can’t do this again. end of conversation. i have to get changed for work, so—”
“that’s how a conversation works for you, isn’t it?” her tone was cutting, but her voice wasn’t impatient, actually the opposite, it was just… observing. “you talk and i listen, then it’s the end of the conversation.”
silence filled the kitchen for a moment. you felt almost ashamed.
“i’m listening,” you said instead of arguing.
daniela looked down at her coffee for a second, fingers tapping against the mug before stopping completely.
“i was talking to megan yesterday,” she said eventually, slowly.
“of course you were talking to megan,” you mumbled. of course megan had something to do with this. daniela ignored your tone with a loud sigh.
“she told me that if you got jealous over me…” a small smile crossed her lips, softer now, a little embarrassed. “and if i got that happy about it… then maybe there’s still something between us. then i came here to talk to you about it… and… well, what happened happened…” her voice got smaller and she looked down at her mug. of course there was.
it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. you remembered how you felt the day before, like daniela was still yours in some sense of the word, and that wouldn’t come from nowhere. neither would your dreams about her, neither would your fascination every time elena acted like her, neither would your need to look especially pretty every single therapy session. you knew it. but you couldn’t. before you could say something, she kept talking.
“i’m not saying we’re madly in love.” her voice was so vulnerable that your heart ached a little. “but maybe…” she hesitated for the first time since the conversation started. “if there’s something… then maybe…” her voice became so small it was almost a whisper. “maybe we could…”
“stop,” you said. daniela’s mouth closed immediately. “seriously?”
she stayed quiet. she was almost shy.
“do you remember the months before the divorce?” your voice got tighter with every word. “because i do. we couldn’t stay in the same room without fighting. elena was noticing it. it was…” you tried to find a word to describe it without being too harsh, but you couldn’t. you chose silence instead.
“maybe it wouldn’t be like that this time.” her voice was so small that you had to close your eyes for a moment.
she was so sincere… so honest. you wanted to believe her because she was daniela, the same daniela you had wanted ever since you were a stupid kid, the same daniela who had you arguing with her over a wet towel on the bed, the same daniela who had kissed another woman in a dark alley after a fight on a random friday.
she had the same honey eyes, the same soft look, the same gentle hands. you wished you were the same too, the same sixteen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything daniela asked because you were too in love with her to deny her anything.
but you still looked at elena sometimes and wondered how much she remembered of you and daniela’s fights. you still wondered if she heard it when you guys whispered cruelties to each other instead of yelling so she wouldn’t hear through the walls. you still wondered if she would grow up like you and develop that same intense fear of ending up like her mother.
you knew, deep in your heart, that if you had stopped loving daniela, then both of you would’ve become indifferent instead of hateful. then the divorce would’ve been cold and clean instead of chaotic and loud. but loving daniela hadn’t fixed your relationship for months during that last year, so why would anything change now?
“no.” your voice came out firmer this time. “i have to get ready for work, you have to take elena to school, remember?”
her jaw tightened a little at that. “i’m trying to talk to you. you can clock in five minutes late.”
“i don’t want to talk about that anymore. last night was a mistake,” you spat out quickly.
“four mistakes.” she said it quietly, but it still cut you off. “four times. i fucked you four times last night.”
you took a deep breath, trying to keep calm.
“you haven’t changed,” you said, your voice cold and soft. like you expected, you saw a hint of offense in her eyes. “i have to go to work,” you said simply. “bye, daniela.”
you turned around and started walking upstairs. you didn’t look back at her, you didn’t dare see her disappointed, hurting face. you hated yourself for it and deep down you knew she hated you too.
you expected her to yell something that would make you mad and send you marching downstairs to keep fighting, a crude comment, a smart remark, anything.
but she said nothing.
you both moved on with your day. you went to work, daniela went back home, took elena to school, and watched her with her comically big backpack running off to find her little friends. she went back home, got ready for work, and focused on the tasks she had to get done. she was an adult and couldn’t go crying back home because you had broken her tender heart, but she couldn’t get her mind off you.
because how could you? how could you change so fast from night to day? last night, you were putty in her hands, crying her name so beautifully. this morning, you broke her heart. daniela wanted to hate you, she really did, but she couldn’t.
because she knew, deep down in her heart, you were thinking about her too, during work, staring at the wall and remembering her lips on yours.
her lips on yours…
daniela’s lips weren’t desperate. no, they were, in a way, but they were also tender. they reminded you of the first time she kissed you in jacob’s basement when you were sixteen years old. if you tried hard enough, you could still taste the cheap beer on her tongue. it hadn’t been your first kiss, you had kissed your friends before. practice for real kisses, they said. but daniela had been the first one who made your heart pound like a hammer in your chest and your hands tremble a little.
“that was really good,” she had said, her cheeks blushing as she looked into your eyes.
daniela’s cheeks no longer blushed when she kissed you, but somehow it tasted just as sweet and soft as she pressed her lips against yours. and when she pulled back, her forehead still resting against yours, eyes closed, still waiting for your reaction, the moment was so delicate, so fragile. she acted like she was scared that a single wrong word would break the perfect bubble you were in for a second, for a minute.
perhaps she was right, so you didn’t give her much time to speak.
“upstairs…” you murmured.
daniela didn’t need to be told twice.
she grabbed the back of your legs, lifting you off the floor. you had forgotten how strong she was. she wasn’t very tall, nor particularly muscular, but she was hella stronger than she looked, and carrying you upstairs while you kissed her neck seemed like little effort to her. she threw you onto the bed, then climbed on top of you. her weight kept you grounded in the moment, giving you no room to think about anything except her lips on yours, her tongue in your mouth. but it was too slow, perhaps, because you grew needier a minute later.
both of you were completely consumed by desire, but yes, it was a very conscious decision. you could see it on her face. she gave you a moment to back off, to become your usual annoying self and talk about how wrong this was, how you couldn’t do it.
it never came.
instead, you grew impatient. with a heavy sigh, you switched your positions, pinning her shoulders to the mattress. daniela looked surprised for a few seconds, watching as you unzipped her pants. your fingers were quick, and when you pulled the fabric down, you set free her hard cock. you missed it, fuck, you really did.
she was throbbing as you wrapped your hand around it, practically begging for your attention. the pink tip leaked with pre-cum, and while you watched the vein along the side pulse, you felt her hand settle in your hair. you remembered how patiently she had guided you to wrap your lips around it. at first, you barely knew how to do it. it felt weird and strange to have your mouth so full like that. over time, you learned to enjoy it far too much: the way it stretched your lips, the bitter taste of it, the weight of it on your tongue.
it was just like always when you finally leaned down to take it into your mouth again, except it seemed far more sensitive than you remembered. daniela immediately let her head fall back and let out a loud hiss as you ran your tongue along her length. she hadn’t felt this in a while, you could tell.
that made you so happy that, a few moments later, you engulfed the whole member in your mouth. it tasted the same, so daniela.
“god… baby…” she moaned.
you hadn’t heard her call you baby in a long while. a few weeks before the divorce, she had stopped completely. it felt weird, almost like a foreign word in her mouth.
at the same time, it felt so natural.
her fingers tightened at the back of your head as she started guiding you, first downward, encouraging you to take as much as you could into your mouth. she reached over, grabbed a pillow, and tucked it behind her head so she could comfortably watch your mouth taking her cock.
“so good,” she said when you choked just slightly. the light pressure around her tip felt good, way too good, in a way that made it dangerously hard to keep control and not start thrusting into your mouth. so she let her hand fall away and allowed you to set the pace.
daniela knew you wouldn’t disappoint.
you didn’t.
you started bobbing your head, slowly at first, enjoying her taste as if sucking her off was for your pleasure alone. drool slipped from the corners of your lips, coating her length and making it slide so easily into your mouth. you stroked the base while sucking at the tip…
daniela almost rolled her pretty eyes back into her head.
it took her a few more minutes to realize she was going to come way too fucking fast like this. she had had nothing but her right hand for months, and having the perfect view of your mouth on her was making almost every rational thought disappear. you realized it too when you felt her pulse inside your mouth, so you pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lower lip to her tip as you sat back on your heels.
daniela quickly reached out, more like lunged at you. her hands fumbled to pull your shirt over your head, and as soon as she did, letting the fabric fall to the floor, she noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. she could have teased you, said something about you being naughty or anything like that, but you hadn’t seen daniela this eager in a long time. she immediately wrapped her lips around one of your nipples and brought her hand up to toy with your other breast like a desperate baby.
you gasped, caught between surprise and pleasure, as she left a small bite there. not hard, just enough to sting. she was so needy. her hands seemed magnetically drawn to your body. you buried your fingers in her curls as she suckled at the hardened nipple. her grip on your waist with her free hand was so tight it bordered on painful, and yet you let her have her fun. it was a pleasant feeling, one that left you uncomfortably wet, far too eager to have her inside you as well.
so you had to push her head back, lowering yourself to kiss her sweet lips again.
“i want you,” she mumbled against your lips.
god, she was really desperate. you could almost feel her body trembling with need.
“i know,” you chuckled low in your throat. it was so good to see her like this, looking at you as if you were the only woman in the world, touching you as if your skin had been made for her, kissing you like you were the air she needed to breathe. “i want you too, dani… i want you inside me.”
“yeah?” she whispered.
you nodded and brought your hands down to pull off your pants.
daniela helped you as you stood up from the bed to take them off, and that was the only moment she let go of your skin for even a second, only to have her hands on you again the very next moment. now dressed only in your panties, you caught her looking at your body, and you could have sworn her mouth watered at the sight. she kissed every bit of skin she could reach as you moved closer: your forearm, your side, your shoulder. she would have kissed your entire body if you had given her half a chance.
but you didn’t, because you wanted her lips on yours. you were just as eager as she was, just as desperate. your body couldn’t stay away from her touch for long either. you craved this every bit as much as she did, and you hated admitting to yourself that she had simply been braver than you, brave enough to reach out first.
“you’re so beautiful,” daniela breathed.
kissing down your neck, she let her hands explore you as if she hadn’t touched you a thousand times before. from your back to your waist, from your ass to your thighs, wherever she could reach, she touched you as if you were made of glass. your skin burned beneath her hands as you straddled her lap.
you were ready to pull your panties aside and have her inside you again right away, but daniela had other plans. she switched your positions once more, your back hitting the mattress as she kissed her way down your body.
that was her chance.
soft, wet kisses left a trail from your neck to your breasts, then lower to your belly, each one making your skin shiver. for a second, it tickled, right on the sensitive part of your stomach, and you couldn’t help letting out a quiet laugh. daniela looked up at you, her eyes shining softly. she smiled and kissed the same spot again, just to hear your laugh one more time.
you still shared the same intimacy you once had. she still knew your body well enough to pleasure it in every possible way, to make you scream or make you laugh. in that moment, you knew you would hardly ever share something this precious with someone else again. the smile slowly faded from your lips, and you could already feel yourself slipping into sadness, but daniela was faster than your own self-sabotaging thoughts.
she quickly pulled off your panties, sliding them down your thighs before spreading your legs for her. you only realized how wet you had become when the cool air hit your center. you were practically dripping, your lips glistening with arousal. daniela’s tongue didn’t take long to find you.
she closed her lips around your clit and flicked her tongue over it. immediately, your legs tightened around her head, and you could feel her smile against you. she had always loved it when you did that. it showed her how much she was pleasing you, and as confident as she was, she still craved your approval in so many ways.
she let her tongue explore you just as her hands had before, except now it was more precise, finding all the places you had always loved. it felt like a kiss, a very wet one. her tongue moved lower as soon as your hands found her curls in a gentle caress.
“you’re so good, dani,” you cried out as she teased you.
your arousal mixed with her saliva, coating her skin, but she didn’t seem to care. if anything, she only grew hungrier. whether it was because of your moans or your praise, daniela seemed to be having the time of her life while she focused entirely on you. every movement drew another reaction from your body, making your legs tense and your body squirm a little more.
she had always been good at this. not because of experience—at the beginning, she hadn’t had much of that. she hadn’t had many girls or a lot of experience before you. she simply carried a genuine need to please you, to make you feel good. she took pride in your pleasure, and at the same time, found complete satisfaction in giving it to you. that was something no technique or experience could truly teach someone. her skill came entirely from her desire to be good for you.
that was why your praise went straight to her head. and to her cock.
good for her, you noticed how her hips unconsciously rocked against the bed, seeking the soft friction of the sheets, chasing even the slightest bit of relief.
you gently pushed her hair back, just enough for her to pull away. that was when you felt her hot breath against your sensitive skin.
“i want you inside…” you whispered.
daniela’s chin was covered with your honey. she smiled when you said that and nodded, but made no move to clean her face. instead, she sat up between your legs. you could see her rigid cock only centimeters away from your pussy.
she took off her shirt, tossing it onto the floor with the rest of your clothes. now both of you were completely naked. daniela hated wearing bras unless she was on the field. for a second, you admired her small, perky breasts before looking back up at her face. she was staring right at you, her expression unreadable for a moment.
“you’re as beautiful as ever,” she murmured. “just as tasty as ever, y/n.”
it didn’t sound like dirty talk, or the kind of thing people said during sex just to make their partner feel good and set the mood. it sounded honest. painfully honest.
“you’re still mine?” she whispered.
then she leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of your head. her cock brushed against your pussy, and you bit your lip.
but she barely seemed to notice your reactions, the way your hips rolled upward on instinct, the way your eyes kept drifting down to her hard cock, almost lined up with your entrance.
“look at me.” her voice was almost pleading. “say it to me.”
you looked into her honey-colored eyes, at her beautiful face, at the long curls falling over her shoulders, almost creating a curtain around the two of you.
you placed your hands on her soft cheeks.
you had forgotten how much you loved kissing her face.
you almost wished you could do it now, but perhaps that would be too much.
perhaps that would be more intimate than sex.
perhaps that would be more intimate than laughing with her when she kissed your stomach and made you laugh while you were completely naked.
“i’m yours, daniela,” you said.
you told yourself it was a lie. in the back of your mind, you were no longer her wife. but as she finally pushed inside you, the first inches forcing your body to accommodate her, making your mouth fall open in a silent moan and your eyes close so you could fully feel how good it was to have her again after such a long, long time, you realized that perhaps you weren’t lying.
you could no longer be hers, but judging by the way your body accepted her, by the way it reacted and responded to her and only her—not even to yourself, only to daniela—then maybe it was the truth.
maybe it was the truest thing you had said in a long while, whispered in the dark for daniela’s ears alone.
“you’re mine,” she said back, breathless.
as she finally bottomed inside you, she didn’t move for a moment. she just stayed there, holding you close, her eyes locked on your face.
“say it again.”
“dani…” you breathed.
“say it again for me. say it now.”
her command sounded so desperate that it felt more like a plea.
you opened your eyes again.
that expression on her face…
she was trying to be dominant, but you could see right through her. that was something you had always been far too good at. she could act as confident and commanding as she wanted, but she had been yours first.
“you’re mine. say it to me.”
daniela nodded immediately as your hands wrapped around her shoulders.
“i’m yours, all yours,” she said, her voice so sweet.
so sweet that it stood in sharp contrast to the intensity between you. you started to moan uncontrollably. at first, you tried to bite your lip and keep quiet, but you couldn’t. eventually, you gave up and simply tried not to get too loud.
daniela loved every sound that escaped you, the smile on her face gave her away, so did the way she held you closer.
she let her body fall on top of yours, completely trapping you beneath her weight.
she started kissing your neck. by now, she was moving on pure instinct, just fucking into you as deeply as she could. your legs trembled slightly with every thrust. she lowered one hand to wrap your thigh around her waist, and you followed her lead.
“nice and deep, that’s how my girl likes it, yeah?” she panted against your neck.
you nodded immediately, your nails dragging down her back, leaving a reddish trail she would love to see in the morning.
her grip on your thigh was definitely painful by now, but you couldn’t focus on it when she started moving faster. gradually, her thrusts became almost punishing, as if she were personally punishing you. well, god knew she had enough reasons to do it. but if that was her intention, it wasn’t working, because even through the painfully delicious stretch, she found that sweet spot inside you that made your eyes nearly roll back and the sweetest moans spill from your lips.
she almost groaned when she felt you squeezing around her, your walls tightening in a way that made it almost difficult for her to move, gripping her like a vice. the foreplay had left both of you too close to the edge. that, or perhaps the fact that you were so desperate for each other that there was barely room for anything else in your minds.
“dani…”
when you said her name so sweetly, as if she were the only thing that mattered, daniela became completely desperate. she lost whatever technique or skill she had left. her movements became pure desire. she buried her face in the crook of your neck again, breathing in your scent. she lost herself in it.
her hips snapped faster, harder.
you cried out.
you could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure in your lower belly growing tighter as you rolled your hips up to meet her. she barely pulled away from you now, chasing the climax that seemed to draw closer with every passing second. your sweaty skin pressed together, the taste of her still lingering on your lips, her breath and muffled moans against your neck, the relentless rhythm that kept drawing reactions from you.
“come for me. come for me now,” she commanded between harsh breaths.
you finally came, your whole body tensing as your eyes rolled back and your back arched off the bed. high-pitched moans spilled from your lips as the pleasure washed over you. daniela did her best to keep moving with you through it, only pulling away at the last second.
she didn’t had to lower her hand to stroke herself or even just hump your belly, she waited the very last second, you felt the warm jet hit your belly, four of them, so thick that part of you wished she had shot them right into you.
she kept her face buried in your neck for a minute, maybe two, listening to the sound of your breathing slowly returning to normal. eventually, a soft chuckle escaped you.
she finally looked up.
her face was sweaty, her eyes slightly unfocused, her lips swollen. a hint of a confused smile appeared on her face when she heard you laughing.
“what?”
“that was a huge fucking mistake,” you said honestly.
a second of silence passed before you sighed deeply.
“but since we’re here, let’s make the most of it.”
you switched your positions once again, straddling her lap, she looked up at you, surprised and slightly amazed as you settled comfortably against her, bringing her semi hard cock to your entrance once again. for a moment, neither of you spoke.
the next morning, you regretted this deeply.
but for one night, you allowed yourself to believe the lie, or maybe you allowed yourself to tell the truth.
even in the dark, even whispered between dirty and reckless words, there would always be a part of you that belonged to her.
Batman!Daniela who is stoic with your family, but you know that she loves them. She lets them play with her curls, let them draw on her and poke her face and she just sits there, letting it happen. One of your younger cousins managed to knick one of her gadgets and almost outed the secret. She bribed him by giving him tons of lollies and he didn't speak another word about it.
Batman!Daniela Looks absolutely sexy in her batsuit, she's so strong and it exudes off of her person. Sometimes it's extra hard for her to leave the house because you keep her busy.
Batman!Daniela Spoils the shit out of you, not meaninglessly, she knows what you like, she's the type that remembers everything you brought up once no matter how long ago.
Batman!Daniela whose identity was revealed because of another one of your relatives, your little niece. She snitched on Dani, immediately running to you and holding up Dani’s utility belt with a proud grin. You gave Dani an earful that night.
Batman!Daniela knows you hate fancy events so she often goes alone, coming back home late at night with a deflated expression that lights up when she lays in bed with you.
Batman!Daniela doesn't like when you leave the house wearing anything even slightly valuable, she tugs you back and orders you to change clothes, not wanting you out in Gotham like that.
Batman!Daniela once found you out in a coffee shop with Harley Quinn.
Batman!Daniela is pathetically submissive when it comes to you, she's at your beck and call all day and everyday.
Batman!Daniela doesn't smile in photos, you think it's adorable how brooding she is.
Batman!Daniela who teaches you self defence; how to use weapons and how to fight. She wants you to be safe and capable when she isn't there, she even designs gadgets for you to use.
Batman!Daniela is awkward when it comes to affection, so to compensate she showers you In money, but eventually learns how to give you what you need. She opens up, holds you, tells you the simplest of thoughts in her mind.
'I like your hair today...it's nice.'
'It's raining.'
Batman!Daniela listens to old ass music on gramophone because she 'feels cool and philosophical'
g!p daniela avanzini x fem!reader, g!p megan skiendiel x fem!reader
a/n: it’s not tuesday anymore but BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. i have like 2-3 other meizini x reader drafts but i’m not sure how i feel about them rn.
summary: megan’s bad behavior doesn’t sit too well with daniela, but it turns out the punishment she had in mind isn’t only limited to her.
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mommy kink, daniela’s a little mean to megan, overstimulation, oral sex (r receiving), not proofread!
masterlist | wc: 1k
• ୨ ✦ ୧ •
“Oh you poor little thing,” Daniela cooed, stroking your cheek as she laid you down on the bed. “It hurts, hm?” You nodded, parting your legs enough for her to kneel between them. “Megan didn’t take care of you, did she?” you shook your head causing Daniela to look back at her. Megan was standing nearby, keeping her distance until Daniela allowed her to come closer. It didn’t seem that would be any time soon though.
Daniela was calm, too calm, so Megan knew she was in trouble. She’d broken two rules before Daniela came home. One, she had fucked you without her permission while she was out for the day. Two, she’d finished without permission and while leaving you unsatisfied on top of that.
“She couldn’t hold it until after you came?” Daniela asked, wiping the remainder for Megan’s release from your stomach.
“No, Mommy,” you answered, shaking your head again. Daniela let out an audible sigh and pushed your legs up.
“Look how wet you are…and Megan still messed up. How embarrassing,” Daniela taunted, reaching down to slide her fingers through your folds. “You need to learn, Mei,” Daniela said, looking back at her again as she slipped two digits inside you. You moaned softly at the sensation, instinctively trying to meet her movements. Daniela’s touch was slow, deliberate. “Don’t just stand there, come over here and look.”
Megan’s face flushed in embarrassment, but she still found herself moving closer to the pair of you. “I can help,” Megan offered, feeling her cock twitch at the sight. She reached for you but Daniela put her free hand up to stop her.
“You can help by actually learning to listen for once,” Daniela muttered before turning her full attention to you. Megan frowned but sat back on her knees nearby. Maybe if she behaved, Daniela would let her have a turn or join. Daniela slid her pants down her legs, freeing herself from her confines. Her half hard length slapped against your inner thigh. You reached down impatiently to stroke her. Daniela’s eyes narrowed slightly as she focused on your hand wrapped around her. She took hold of your wrist once she was ready. “Put it in her,” Daniela said, keeping her eyes locked on yours. At first, Megan didn’t realize Daniela was referring to her because she didn’t acknowledge her directly. “Hurry the fuck up,” Daniela spat, briefly turning her head toward her. Megan scrambled forward nervously and grabbed the base of Daniela’s cock. She bit down on her lip as she guided Daniela inside you.
“Mommy always stretches you out good?” Daniela asked as she bottomed out. You exhaled through your nose as you adjusted to her size. She was envious of Daniela, that she was able to fuck you however she wanted whenever she wanted without any consequence. Megan, on the other hand, had to listen to her when it came to most things. So did you, but Daniela was easier on you since you were usually better behaved.
“So good,” you agreed with her. Your hips pressed up to be flush with hers. It sucked that both of you were mostly ignoring her, but Megan knew better than to speak out of turn when she was already on thin ice. She was lucky that this was the only punishment planned for her. Though, the longer she watched Daniela use your body, the more difficult it was becoming to ignore the strain in her pants.
The sound of Daniela’s hips meeting yours filled Megan’s ears. That and your sweet moans as Daniela pounded into you. Her thrusts were steady and powerful, even causing Megan to rock back and forth every so slightly. “Look so pretty with my cock inside you,” Daniela cooed, stroking your cheek with her thumb—a gesture that contrasted greatly with the strength of her thrusts. Your nails dug into her back and you swore you felt her try to flex with everything she could.
Megan whimpered when Daniela's fingers came up and tightened in her hair. She roughly shoved her head down, giving her a closer look at where your and Daniela's bodies met. Megan licked her lips as she watched Daniela's cock pump into you. She could tell you were close, your lower stomach clenched and you stopped moving. Megan steadied herself on her elbows when Daniela released her. Daniela grabbed your hips and made you meet her thrusts.
“That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” Daniela gritted, struggling to hold off. She knew she had to though, otherwise the lesson she was trying to teach Megan would’ve all been for nothing.
Against her better judgement, Megan’s tongue darted out and she pressed it flat against your clit before swirling around it. When you finally came, Daniela slammed her hips forward and filled you.
“You almost didn’t last,” Megan teased when Daniela finally unmounted you. Daniela raised an eyebrow and pushed her head between your legs to clean the mess she had made.
“Shut up,” Daniela quipped, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous enough to let you do this. Just focus on whatever I tell you to do instead of running that stupid mouth of yours.”
Megan hugged but eagerly buried her face between your thighs, causing you to squirm in this state. “Mommy ‘m sensitive,” you said, trying to move away from Megan’s mouth. Daniela held your hips tightly, keeping you in place.
“I know, honey, but did you really think I was going to let you off the hook?” Daniela asked. You looked up at her confused. She was punishing you as well? For what?
“B-But it was Megan’s idea!” you whined, placing your hands over hers. Megan’s tongue slid inside your entrance causing you to let out a strangled moan. Tears welled up in your eyes
“And yet you agreed to it since you wanted to cum so bad. If anything, I’m just giving you what you want,” Daniela said, reaching down to rub your clit. “Now keep your legs open for Mei. She’s gonna make sure you stay ready for me in between.”
summary : girl she’s ur baby daddy and yall argue then yall have sex 🥀
warnings : cursing, g!p daniela, baby trapping mention again…, smut ofc, dani sells drugs but it’s barely mentioned, she’s lowkey a deadbeat, probably more but i forgot
unnecessary bs : 4.9k words, i actually love bd dani
you slip the spoon into your daughter’s mouth just as the doorbell rings. your eyes flick to the door before you let out a tired sigh, pulling the spoon away and reaching for her bib.
“hm, i wonder who that could be.” you mutter, wiping the corner of her mouth. the doorbell rings again, then again, each press faster, louder, more obnoxious.
you roll your eyes. “jesus christ.” and then it hits and you groan. “fucking daniela.”
only she rings your doorbell like she’s trying to piss you off on purpose. like this is some kind of game and she always plays to win.
you storm over to the door and yank it open—and there she is. daniela avanzini, in all her smug, infuriating glory.
leaning against the frame like she owns the place. like she didn’t walk out three months ago after calling you “emotionally constipated” and slamming the door hard enough to rattle your dishes.
“hey, pretty.”
you deadpan. “stop ringing my damn doorbell like a child with impulse issues.”
she grins. “wow. not even a hi? missed you too.”
“what do you want?”
“i came to see my baby.”
your eyes narrow. you know she means danielle, but her eyes drag slow and deliberate from your face to your legs like she’s testing you, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“well, she just ate. you can come back when you learn how to act right.”
“cute. except you don’t make the rules around here.”
you scoff, stepping aside because arguing in front of danielle never ends well. not that daniela cares, she’s already sauntering past you like this is her home. like she didn’t give up custody time for a week straight because she was “figuring shit out.”
“you don’t live here anymore,” you snap.
“mm,” she hums, crouching beside danielle and lifting her into her arms like it’s second nature. she says something soft in spanish, probably about you, voice low and familiar like a secret she’s passing between them.
you slam the door shut behind you. “maybe she should know the truth about how you disappeared for two days and blamed it on your phone dying.”
“oh my god, are we seriously doing this again?”
“you show up, unannounced, ringing my doorbell like you’ve got no damn home training—what did you expect?”
“a kiss, maybe. a little gratitude for blessing your doorstep.”
“you’re not cute.”
she spins slowly with danielle in her arms, making her laugh. then casually, like it means nothing: “your mom texted me, by the way.”
you blink. “what?”
“she wanted to know if we were ‘working things out.’ i told her you were still mean as hell, so… probably not.”
your jaw clenches. “stop talking to my mom.”
“tell her to stop texting me then. she likes me more than you do.”
you grab one of danielle’s toys off the floor and throw it at her. she catches it one handed, grinning.
“you’re insufferable.”
“and you’re still letting me in.”
and when she walks to your fridge like it’s still hers, opens it, and says, “you got anything that isn’t expired this time or are we ordering again?”
you don’t say anything. just brush past her, straight into the kitchen with your jaw clenched and shoulders tight.
she walks back into the living room like she didn’t show up out of nowhere and hijack your evening. you don’t even look at her—you’re too busy slamming the cabinet door while pulling out a pan, too busy chopping vegetables like the cutting board personally wronged you.
“you cooking?” she asks, settling onto the floor with danielle still latched to her like a koala.
you slam the fridge shut. “shut up.”
she doesn’t. of course she doesn’t. she’s sitting cross legged on the floor now, danielle crawling into her lap with her little stuffed bunny in hand.
“look at this, she still loves me. she doesn’t even know what a deadbeat is.”
you whip around. “say that again and i’ll throw this knife at your head.”
she laughs. like she thinks you’re kidding.
“god, you’re always angry,” she says, tilting her head as danielle babbles in her lap. “you ever try not being so fucking bitter all the time?”
“i’m not bitter,” you snap. “i’m tired. tired of having to do everything by myself while you show up when it’s convenient and act like that makes you some saint.”
she goes quiet at that, just for a second.
but then she shrugs. “yet here you are. still cooking dinner like we’re a happy little family.”
“i’m not cooking for you,” you snap. “i’m making something for danielle.”
“she’s a baby.”
“she’ll have to eat real food eventually.”
“but not tonight.”
you whip around. “do you want me to throw this knife at you or what?”
daniela just smirks, leaning back on one arm while danielle plays with her hoodie string.
“you always get like this when i show up. it’s cute.”
“you think everything’s cute. you think breaking promises is cute. showing up three days late? cute. ignoring my calls? adorable. you think you can just walk back in like you’re supposed to be here—”
“i am supposed to be here.”
your hand freezes mid chop.
“don’t.”
she shrugs, unbothered, like she didn’t just throw a match on a gas leak.
“just saying. i’m her mom too.”
“yeah? then act like it.”
you toss the chopped vegetables into the pan harder than you need to and flick the stove on. the oil sizzles loud, and daniela flinches like she thought you were going to throw the whole pot at her. and honestly, so did you.
“you think i like doing this alone?” you mutter. “you think i get some kick out of waking up at 3am, warming bottles, dealing with teething and crying and you—”
“you never asked for help.”
“because every time i do, you disappear.”
daniela goes quiet for a second, lips pressed tight. danielle is babbling now, half to herself, half to her bunny, completely unaware of the tension thick in the air like smoke.
you stir the pan a little too aggressively and daniela finally stands up, brushing off her jeans and gently placing danielle in her little play mat nearby.
“i’m here now.”
you don’t look up.
“for how long?”
she doesn’t answer.
you keep cooking. you keep your eyes on the pan. you pretend you’re not already thinking about the moment she walks out again. pretend you don’t already have a backup bottle ready for when the food goes untouched. pretend you don’t care.
because someone has to keep the house running. someone has to make sure the baby eats, even if she’s only on purées. someone has to show up every day.
and it’s never daniela.
you finish cooking with your lips pressed into a tight line, throwing the kitchen towel over your shoulder like you’re running a restaurant and not dealing with your emotionally exhausting ex. you don’t bother plating it fancy—just toss the food on, grab a fork, and head to the dining table where daniela is already sitting like she’s waited all day for this.
danielle’s in her lap, happy as ever, gnawing on the corner of her bib like it’s the most delicious thing in the world. daniela’s got one arm around her and the other lazily scrolling through her phone until you set the plate down in front of her with a clink.
she looks up, smile already tugging at the corner of her mouth. “thank you, baby.”
you blink and stare at her. “yeah. you’re welcome.”
she grins. “i don’t get a kiss anymore?”
you scoff—not even a full laugh, just that sharp little sound people make when they’re done with the bullshit. like tch but from the soul “you’re lucky you got a plate.”
she smirks, pokes at her food. “you say that every time and still feed me like you love me.”
“because i love the baby. and she deserves a mom with energy, which i can’t have if i get arrested for murder.”
daniela hums like it’s sweet.
you grab your own plate and sit across from her, not bothering to make eye contact. danielle is squirming now, so daniela shifts her a little and keeps eating with one hand like it’s second nature.
you both eat in tense silence for a minute, only the clinking of forks and the occasional babble from danielle filling the room.
then daniela, mouth half full, “do you think she’s gonna be left handed like me or right handed like you?”
you pause mid bite and look at her like she’s actually lost her mind. “she’s barely even holding things right now.”
“yeah, but i read it’s genetic or whatever.”
you just shake your head. “do you have a real job yet?”
daniela glances up with zero shame. “define real.”
you put your fork down. “one that doesn’t involve getting arrested if you text the wrong number.”
“damn,” she says, biting into her food again. “so judgemental for someone who used to ride with me while i did drop offs.”
“yeah. and then i grew up.”
daniela raises an eyebrow, still chewing. “you say that like i’m out here selling kilos in the back of a church van.”
“i don’t know what you’re selling anymore, daniela. could be weed, could be someone’s soul, could be baby formula—”
“okay wow, relax. it’s not that serious.”
“no, you don’t take it seriously. which is the problem. you have a whole daughter now, and you’re still out here treating your life like a gta mission.”
daniela chuckles, leaning back in the chair, arm wrapped lazily around danielle like she’s unfazed. “you always talk like i’m some wanted criminal. i’m just doing what i know.”
“yeah? well what you know is gonna get you locked up. and then who’s left picking up the pieces? oh wait—me. again.”
“you’re so dramatic.”
“no, you’re just stupid.”
daniela laughs at that, like it’s cute, like you’re flirting. “you called me stupid but still cooked for me. which one of us is really down bad?”
you slam your fork on the table, and danielle flinches in her lap. you immediately soften your voice but your words are still sharp.
“i didn’t cook for you, daniela. i cooked so our daughter doesn’t grow up watching me lose my mind because her other mom thinks slinging weed is a personality trait.”
daniela looks at you for a moment, finally not laughing, just watching.
“i’m doing what i can,” she says. “it’s not like people are lining up to hand me a nine to five with my record.”
you cross your arms. “so that’s it? just give up? keep doing shit that puts you at risk and maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll be out in time for her kindergarten graduation?”
“at least i’m trying.”
“trying would be showing up on time. trying would be calling when you can’t make it. trying would be putting her first for once and not whatever hustle you’ve got going on that week.”
daniela presses her lips together, and you can tell she’s about to say something mean. something that’ll cross the line. she shifts danielle in her lap instead, brushing crumbs off her little onesie.
you stand up and grab your plate.
“you think being here now makes up for everything? it doesn’t. you don’t get points for showing up late and calling it love.”
daniela mutters, “you sound like your mom.”
you freeze. just for a second, then you nod slowly. “good. because someone in this house has to act like a grown up.”
daniela exhales a laugh, mean and quiet. “right. now you’re better than me ‘cause you microwave baby food and follow a bedtime schedule?”
you narrow your eyes. “i’m better than you because i show up.”
“nah,” she says, sitting back in the chair like she’s getting real comfortable. “you’re just mad the lifestyle stopped benefitting you.”
you squint. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“don’t act brand new, yn. you weren’t complaining when my ‘gta missions’ were paying your rent. your groceries. that ‘push present’ you pretend came from your savings—yeah, okay.”
your blood boils.
“you think this is about money?”
“no, i think it’s about the fact that you were perfectly fine with it when you were comfortable. now that i’m not handing you wads of cash and showing up with takeout in the middle of the night, suddenly you’re holier than thou.”
you’re already walking away. grabbing the plates, scooping up danielle gently from her lap, not even looking at her.
“yn,” daniela calls out like she didn’t just say the most out of pocket shit.
you stop in the hallway. danielle’s head is on your shoulder, eyes fluttering. bedtime.
daniela walks up behind you like she forgot who she’s talking to. like everything can just be smoothed over with a joke and a smile.
“don’t touch me.”
you don’t raise your voice. you just say it low and calm, sharper than anything else you’ve said tonight.
daniela freezes with her hand halfway out, fingers curling back slowly.“yn—”
“you really stood in my house, in front of our daughter, and tried to flex about doing illegal shit like it makes you some kind of provider. like that’s love.”
daniela’s quiet.
you glance over your shoulder, just once.
“you don’t get to touch me. not after that.”
you don’t even look at her again. just shift danielle higher in your arms and head straight to her room, your breath tight the whole walk down the hall.
her room is quiet, soft. the nightlight glows pale purple in the corner, and everything smells like lavender and baby lotion. you hum a little as you set her down, not a lullaby or anything sweet, just something low to keep yourself from spiraling.
she stares up at you with heavy eyes, her fingers curling in the sleeve of your sweater like she doesn’t want you to go yet.
“it’s okay,” you whisper, brushing her hair back. “i’m right outside.”
she yawns, and your chest twists. because none of this is her fault. none of it.
you wait until she fully drifts off before slipping out of the room and shutting the door with that soft click you’ve perfected by now. then you head straight to the kitchen.
you don’t even sit. just start rinsing off plates and stacking them in the sink, sleeves rolled up, sponge in hand, water too hot.
you’re halfway through scrubbing when you hear her behind you.
you don’t acknowledge her. you don’t have to.
her hands are on your waist before you even feel her move.
arms sliding around you, slow and familiar, like they never forgot the shape of you. her chest is pressed up against your back, arms curling slow and deliberate around your waist like she’s got any right.
“dani,” you say, jaw tight. “don’t.”
she doesn’t move. she just shifts closer, one hand sliding up beneath the hem of your sweater like it’s second nature. her hips roll forward, and you feel her, heavy and shameless.
“i missed you…” she mumbles, lips brushing just behind your ear.
“and i miss when you knew boundaries.” you stop scrubbing the plate in your hand, but you don’t move. “get off me.”
she doesn’t.
just keeps rubbing against you, slow, teasing. hard, bold, like she’s always been.
daniela chuckles, low and smug. “you say that, but you still made sure i ate. still looked out.”
you rinse the plate off, set it down in the rack.
“i wish you would stop saying that. i cooked for danielle.”
“she’s on baby formula, yn.”
you grab another plate. keep scrubbing. “then i guess i just felt generous. don’t read too deep.”
she leans in again, a little closer. “nah. you don’t do anything unless you feel something.”
you slam the last plate into the rack with a clatter. four dishes. four chances to calm down, yet none of them worked.
you stare at her. curly hair, faded hoodie, chain still glinting under the kitchen light like she’s some kind of walking temptation. like your worst mistake wrapped in silk and bad decisions.
and yet—your body still remembers her. still reacts like muscle memory. you toss the sponge into the sink. “go home, daniela.”
she tilts her head. “this is home.”
you finish drying your hands and toss the towel on the counter. daniela’s still standing behind you, arms crossed now, quiet for once.
you don’t even glance at her as you walk off. “if you’re staying, don’t hover.”
“wasn’t hovering.” she mutters, following anyway.
the living room light’s off when you pass through. you don’t stop. just keep walking toward your bedroom like your mind’s already decided for you and your body’s catching up.
you hear her steps behind you, slow, confident, and annoying.
“so this where we pretend we’re not mad at each other?” she says, leaning against your doorframe.
“no,” you say, pulling off your sweater. “this is where i pretend you’re not stupid, for the sake of my sanity.”
daniela whistles low. “you say that with your whole back out.”
you shoot her a look over your shoulder. “close the door.”
she does. with a smirk.
you crawl into bed, not looking at her, not inviting her in either. just scrolling through your phone, blanket pulled up, pretending you’re chill.
daniela doesn’t ask permission. she never does. she just drops her hoodie too, like she owns the space, then slips off her jeans and slides in on the other side of the bed.
the mattress dips, and the air shifts. you don’t say anything. she shifts closer behind you, not touching yet, but there. “you really hate me, huh?” she asks, voice low in the dark.
you shrug, still not looking. “not enough, apparently.”
“you still looked out,” she says, quieter. “even when i didn’t deserve it.”
you sigh, and it’s heavier than you want it to be.
“don’t make this sweet. you’re not sorry. you’re just horny and bored.”
she laughs into your neck, bold enough to kiss your shoulder. “can’t it be both?”
you roll your eyes, but don’t move away.
“you’re so annoying.”
“and you’re so warm.” she says, wrapping an arm around your waist. she presses closer, hips flush against your ass now, and you feel her—hard, steady, smug.
you suck in a sharp breath. “don’t start.”
“you already did,” she says, voice low, mouth against your skin. “soon as you let me in here.”
you close your eyes, clenching your jaw.
daniela’s not even dressed for the night. she’s dressed for this. oversized tee clinging to her shoulders, boxers riding low on her hips, thighs warm against the back of yours as she closes the space between you like it’s nothing. like it’s always been this easy.
you feel her hand trail up under your shirt, slow fingers dragging along your stomach like she’s relearning you.
“i said don’t start.” you whisper, breath catching.
she kisses the back of your neck, lips soft but her hips anything but. she rolls against you once, slow enough to make your eyes flutter.
“but you never mean that…” she murmurs.
you clench your thighs together, already annoyed at how your body’s responding, how it always responds to her.
“dani…”
“hm?”
“i’m still pissed at you.”
she hums like she likes that. like that’s part of the thrill. “then be pissed. i won’t stop you.”
her hand slips lower, brushing the hem of your shorts, teasing the waistband, knuckles grazing skin.
“you’re so full of shit.” you whisper, voice shaking.
she presses a kiss to your jaw now, slow and soft. “and you’re so wet for someone who hates me.”
you gasp, turning to glare at her, but the moment your faces meet, she leans in and kisses you.
it’s not sweet, it’s desperate. teeth clashing, lips hot, like she’s trying to remind you of every reason you ever forgave her.
and god, it’s working.
you tug at her shirt, dragging her closer without thinking, nails digging into her side.
she groans against your mouth. “fuck. missed you.”
you bite her lip. “shut up.”
her boxers are pressing into you now, nothing between you but flimsy fabric and bad decisions.
“then shut me up.” she says.
you don’t answer her, you just pull her in harder.
the kiss turns hungrier, sloppier. your fingers slip under her shirt, dragging up over warm skin, feeling every flex of muscle as she shifts above you. her hand finally slips into your shorts, and you hiss at the contact.
“fuck—” you whisper, half a warning, half a plea.
daniela just smirks into your mouth, fingers sliding through your folds like she owns you. like she’s been waiting for this exact moment since the last time she left your bed.
“you’re always talkin’,” she murmurs, breath hot against your lips. “but your pussy never lies.”
you moan, sharp and helpless, as she circles your clit slow, teasing like she’s got all night.
“shut up.” you pant, hips rocking into her hand.
“make me.”
so you do.
you pull her shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind you, dragging your nails down her chest as she groans and leans in again. her boxers are straining, pressed firm against your thigh, and you grind up into her without shame now, every ounce of anger melting into heat.
“take ‘em off,” you whisper, tugging at the waistband.
“say please.”
you glare. “i’d rather die.”
she grins, cocky and flushed, and kicks them off anyway, letting them hit the floor as she shifts between your thighs.
and god—you feel her.
she pulls your shorts off and slides her cock against you, slow and heavy, teasing your entrance with that unbearable smugness she always wears when she’s right.
“missed this pussy,” she murmurs, dragging it up your slit, coating herself in you. “you still grip like you need me.”
you wrap your legs around her waist.
“less talking, more proving.”
she doesn’t waste another second.
she pushes in slow—too slow—and your back arches off the bed, the stretch making your breath catch in your throat.
“mm—fuck,” you whisper, legs already tightening around her waist.
daniela groans, head dropping into the crook of your neck as she bottoms out, hips pressed flush.
“tight as ever,” she mutters, hand gripping your thigh as she pulls back just enough to drag herself through you again. “like your pussy missed me.”
you grab her jaw and tilt her face up, eyes burning into hers. “shut the fuck up.”
“can’t,” she grins, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate strokes. “you always fuck me better when i talk too much.”
you hate that she’s right.
you’re trying to stay quiet—stoic, unreadable—but she knows your body like scripture. every stroke deeper than the last, her pace measured, like she wants to draw the words out of you.
and then she says it.
voice low. dirty. cruel.
“you want another baby, huh?”
your eyes snap open.
“w-what?”
she grinds deeper, cock sliding all the way in, her pelvis flush with yours. she doesn’t pull out right away. just stays there, buried inside, pressing her weight into you.
“that’s what this is, right?” she whispers against your jaw. “you keep letting me in. keep letting me fuck you raw. you tryna trap me again?”
your stomach flips. your nails dig into her back.
“you’re disgusting.” you breathe, even as your hips buck up into her.
“but your cunt is so greedy,” she says, finally starting to move again, slow and filthy. “gripping like it wants it. like you want it.”
you bite your lip so hard it stings, trying not to give her the satisfaction of the moan building in your throat.
“say it,” she growls, pace picking up. “you want me to fill you up again, huh? get you all swollen and pretty with my kid—”
you whimper, legs locking tighter around her waist.
“shut up, daniela.”
she grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
“then tell me to stop.”
but you don’t.
you can’t.
you just stare at her, flushed and breathing heavy, hating how much you love her like this.
“shit.” you whisper.
daniela smirks, rolling her hips faster now, her cock dragging along that spot that makes your legs shake. “that’s what i thought.”
daniela’s strokes get deeper—more deliberate. not rushed. just ruthless. she’s taking her time now, fucking you like she’s trying to build something unbearable. and you’re barely holding it together.
your hand flies to your mouth, teeth digging into your knuckles as your body jerks beneath her.
“shhh,” she whispers, lips brushing your ear. “you gonna wake our baby.”
and it’s the way she says our that makes your stomach flip again. like she’s still clinging to the idea of family. like she wants to.
you don’t respond, not with words. you just claw at her back, trying to pull her deeper, grind against her harder, chase the high that keeps slipping just out of reach.
daniela moves one hand between you, thumb pressing against your clit in tight, slow circles that make your toes curl.
you let out a sharp, guttural sound before you slap your hand back over your mouth.
she laughs, breathless and smug. “you’re so fuckin’ loud.”
“shut up.” you hiss, your voice trembling.
“nah. you gotta learn how to whisper please, baby.”
your thighs start shaking, whole body tensing as her cock pounds into you, her pace not frantic but intentional—like she knows exactly how close you are and wants to keep you right there, strung out on the edge.
you turn your face into the pillow, biting down hard, but a moan still rips out of you, quiet and wrecked.
daniela groans, hips stuttering. “shit—you always this wet when you hate me?”
“you’re a piece of shit.” you whisper, broken and breathless.
“oh yeah, i love when you call me that.”
you grab her hair and yank her down, kissing her like it’ll shut her up, like it’ll make this whole thing less filthy, less real. but it just makes it worse.
she ruts into you harder, losing her rhythm for a second, groaning into your mouth like she’s starting to lose her edge too.
you feel it building again—tight, hot, impossible to ignore.
her thumb’s still working your clit, her thrusts hitting perfectly now, your legs wrapped around her, bodies locked so close it’s like you’re trying to disappear into her.
your breath catches and your eyes flutter.
“daniela—” you gasp, barely able to get it out.
she kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then your mouth again, sloppy and deep.
“i got you,” she whispers. “cum for me.“
and that’s it.
your body locks up, hips jerking, walls clenching around her so tight she groans out loud and slams into you one last time, staying buried deep as you fall apart underneath her.
it’s messy. breathless. muffled by your hand and her mouth and the sheer desperation of trying not to cry out.
daniela bites your shoulder, whole body trembling as she finally lets go too, spilling inside you with a choked-out moan that she tries—and fails—to keep quiet.
you both stay there, clinging. breathing heavy. drenched in sweat and bad decisions.
the baby monitor in the corner stays mercifully silent, for now.
you’re still catching your breath, head pressed to her shoulder, heart thudding way too loud in your chest.
daniela shifts just enough to look at you, her hand still lazily tracing shapes into your thigh like she didn’t just rearrange your guts.
you don’t speak right away. neither does she.
you glance at her chest rising and falling. sweaty. flushed.
you hate how pretty she looks like this. how soft her eyes get right after.
“you okay?” she whispers finally, voice hoarse.
you roll your eyes, but it’s weak. “you askin’ now?”
“yeah,” she says, smirking a little. “just making sure i didn’t break you.”
“please.” you scoff. “you wish.”
she chuckles low and leans in to kiss your cheek. just a soft little press of her lips that makes your chest tighten before you can stop it.
you don’t pull away, but you don’t lean in either.
“i missed this.” she says, after a beat.
you exhale through your nose. “you missed fucking me.”
“no.” her voice is quieter now. “i mean, yeah. but also…us.”
you stare at the ceiling.
“you think fucking me erases all the shit you’ve done?”
she goes quiet for a second.
“no. but i think it means you still care.”
you look at her finally, eyes half lidded, mouth tugged down.
“if i didn’t care,” you murmur, “i wouldn’t still be this mad.”
she nods, fingers gently brushing your side, like she’s calming herself more than you.
“i’m trying,” she says softly. “i know i fuck up. i’m not gonna lie and say i’m perfect. but i’m still here, aren’t i?”
“barely,” you say under your breath. but you don’t really mean it.
she wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you a little closer, her nose brushing your temple.
“she’s beautiful,” she whispers. “our daughter.”
you feel your chest tighten all over again.
“yeah,” you say, just as soft. “she is.”
and then you both go quiet again, listening to the faint hum of the baby monitor, the sound of her soft, even breathing from the next room.
daniela kisses your hair, and you close your eyes. for now, the fight can wait.
take a shot every time yn says “shut up” like damn, also the header is so bunz bc i didn’t feel like looking for pictures 💔
summary. you only wanted a tattoo, a small change to your body that would finally make you feel different — but under daniela’s hands, every stroke of the needle feels less like art and more like temptation, and it’s clear she’s enjoying having you squirm beneath her far too much.
you stir your latte, the foam swirling into an uninspired pattern, your eyes fixated on the miniature masterpiece of latte art that manon’s barista-crafted beverage boasts. lara, across the small, scarred wooden table, is already halfway through her almond croissant, crumbs dusting the corners of her lips. the late afternoon sun, attempting to cut through the perpetual haze of the city, casts a golden, dusty glow on the bustling café. it’s a perfectly mundane tuesday, save for the impending conversational ambush you can feel brewing, a familiar tension settling just beneath your sternum.
manon glances up from her phone, her eyes — the colour of warm honey — glinting with an all-too-familiar mischievousness. she takes a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, then lowers the cup, her gaze falling pointedly on your unadorned forearm resting on the table.
“still a blank canvas, i see,” she says, her voice a low purr that barely conceals a laugh. the casual observation feels less like a question and more like an indictment.
you sigh, a long, drawn-out exhalation that’s meant to convey exasperation but probably just sounds defeated. “manon, we are not doing this again.”
lara, ever the pragmatist, swallows her last bite of croissant and dabs her lips with a napkin. “she’s just looking out for you,” she says, though her lips twitch upward in a smile that betrays her complicity. “you know how much we want you to experience it.”
“experience what?” you retort, pulling your arm closer to your body as if to shield it from their judgmental gazes. “pain? regret? a permanent reminder of a questionable decision made under duress?”
you glance at manon’s intricately detailed half-sleeve, a cascade of vibrant cherry blossoms and swirling dragons that disappear beneath the cuff of her denim jacket. then at lara’s delicate, almost invisible constellation of stars tracing her inner wrist, each tiny dot a perfect, understated pinprick of rebellion. your own skin, smooth and unblemished, suddenly feels conspicuous, a glaring omission in a friendship defined by shared experiences and unspoken understanding.
“it’s not just about pain, though there is some, obviously,” lara argues, her tone soothing. “it’s about self-expression. it’s about marking a moment, a feeling, a belief onto your body. it’s… intensely personal.”
you snort. “and what profound personal belief am i supposed to etch onto my skin? my unwavering love for artisanal sourdough? my deep-seated fear of public speaking? i don’t have some grand, symbolic motif waiting to burst forth from my psyche and onto my epidermis.”
“you don’t have to have a grand motif!” manon interjects, leaning forward, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “my little ramen bowl on my ankle? it just makes me happy! it’s fun. it’s a little secret just for me.” she wiggles her foot under the table, though you can’t actually see the tattoo beneath her sensible loafers.
“a secret that took three hours and a surprising amount of blood,” you mutter, remembering her post-tattoo lamentations.
“a minor sacrifice for eternal joy!” manon declares, throwing her hands up dramatically. “look, all of us have them. you’re the outlier. the one blank page in our illustrated storybook. it’s like being the only one without a passport in a group of world travellers. you’re missing out on a fundamental human experience!”
“a fundamental human experience?” you raise an eyebrow, genuinely bewildered by the hyperbolic claim. “i’m pretty sure breathing is a more fundamental human experience. and i do that plenty.”
this debate, you reflect, has been a cornerstone of your friendship for the better part of two years now. it started subtly, a casual suggestion here, a wistful comment there. then it morphed into playful teasing, escalating into full-blown interventions like this one. you’d weathered countless attempts: the time manon tried to convince you to get matching minimalist symbols, the time lara showed you delicate watercolour designs on pinterest, the time your birthday present from them was a gift certificate to a high-end tattoo parlour (which you politely, but firmly, returned).
months bled into seasons, and the tattoo discourse became as much a fixture of your gatherings as manon’s perfectly curated playlists and lara’s surprisingly competitive board game streak. you’d almost forgotten what it was like to enjoy a shared meal without someone mentioning a new tattoo artist they’d found, or a cool design they’d seen, or, worst of all, manon making a pointed comment about the "vast, untapped potential" of your arms.
the beach trip, that was perhaps the worst. as you sat on the sand, sun-warmed and almost content, admiring the ocean’s relentless ebb and flow, manon, ever the observant one, had pointedly traced the intricate lines of the new lotus flower blossoming on her shoulder blade. lara, beside her, had casually adjusted her bikini strap, revealing a new, minuscule spiral on her hipbone. you, meanwhile, felt the sun burnishing your unblemished skin, a vast, empty canvas, and suddenly, inexplicably, a pang of something akin to self-consciousness had stirred within you.
you’d downloaded a dozen tattoo design apps after that, scrolling through endless galleries of minimalist lines, intricate mandalas, bold traditional pieces. each time, your finger hovered over a design, then retreated, a cold wave of indecision washing over you. what if you picked something now and hated it later? what if the meaning changed? what if it just… didn’t look right? the permanence of it all was a suffocating thought. it wasn’t like cutting your hair or painting a wall; this was you, forever. you were already terrible at committing to a new shampoo, let alone a piece of art that would be etched into your very being until your dying day.
and then there was the pain. you weren’t exactly squeamish, but you weren’t exactly a stoic either. the thought of a vibrating needle piercing your skin thousands of times… it made your teeth ache. every time manon or lara would mention a particularly long session, or the tender after-care, a shiver would run down your spine. they’d always laugh, calling you a snowflake, but you just couldn’t shake the visceral aversion.
today, however, felt different. there was a glint in manon’s eye, a determined set to lara’s jaw that suggested this wasn’t just another casual prodding. this was an intervention.
“you’re just making excuses,” manon said, her voice unexpectedly gentle, though her eyes still held that knowing gleam. “you overthink everything. that’s your problem. sometimes you just have to jump.”
“or fall,” you countered weakly, still clinging to your defensive stance. “sometimes you just fall.”
“but you’d have us to catch you,” lara chimed in, her hand reaching across the table to briefly squeeze your forearm. her touch was warm, reassuring.
you looked from manon’s expectant face to lara’s earnest one, and a sliver of doubt, a tiny crack in your resolute facade, began to form. you genuinely loved them. they loved you. they weren’t trying to torture you, not really. they just wanted you to share in something that was clearly important to them. and maybe, just maybe, deep down, a part of you was curious. a very, very tiny part. a part that was quickly overshadowed by the enormous, screaming part that just wanted to remain unpunctured.
manon seemed to sense your momentary hesitation, your fleeting glimpse into the possibility. she leaned forward, her expression shifting from playful to serious, almost conspiratorial. “honestly,” she said, her voice dropping, “you should definitely get a tattoo.”
you rolled your eyes, but this time it was more out of habit than genuine irritation. “oh, here we go again.”
manon bit her lip, barely holding back her laughter when she saw you roll your eyes. her shoulders shook slightly as she struggled to compose herself. lara just nodded, a silent accomplice, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. it was a familiar dance, one you knew all too well.
“look,” manon finally managed to say, her voice still a little breathless from suppressed mirth, “i know you’re apprehensive. but you know how much i trust my artist. she’s done, like, eighty percent of my work.” she gestured vaguely at her arm, then her leg, then her back, as if the tattoos were separate entities she’d acquired through osmosis, rather than hours of painstaking needlework.
“daniela,” lara supplied, nodding approvingly. “she’s truly incredible. her lines are so clean.”
manon’s eyes widened, a mischievous spark igniting them. “oh, ‘clean’ isn’t the only word i’d use to describe daniela’s work,” she purred, her voice dropping to a low, suggestive register. a slow, knowing smile spread across her face, stretching into a full-blown grin as she caught your bewildered expression. “and her hands? let’s just say they’re incredibly… talented. she really knows how to make an impression. a very deep impression, if you catch my drift. she’s got a touch that just makes you… feel things. and she’s got the whole package, if you know what i mean. her studio is super private, too. very one–on–one. you'd be in very good hands. the best hands, actually. you won't regret letting her work her magic on you. trust me, you'll be raving about daniela for weeks.”
after weeks of your friends’ relentless campaigns, the idea had finally lodged itself firmly in your mind. a tattoo. not just any tattoo, but a tattoo, like the delicate constellation lara had on her wrist, or the sprawling botanical piece that snaked up manon’s forearm. they’d been persistent, charming, and occasionally outright blackmailing, until you’d caved. today was the day.
but, as fate would have it, today was also the day lara had a sudden, unavoidable family emergency, and manon, your supposed rock and guide, was stuck in a conference call that seemed to have no end. so, it was just you. and the tattoo artist manon had raved about, the one with the legendary waiting list and the "super intense vibe." daniela. great. you clutched your small bag tighter, the paper with the studio’s address creased in your sweaty palm.
the studio was tucked away on a side street, a black, unassuming door amidst a splash of vibrant street art. a small, elegant sign in gothic script read: ink & shadow. you took a deep breath, the metallic tang of nerves sharp on your tongue, and pushed open the door.
the air inside was a peculiar blend of antiseptic and something faintly herbal, maybe incense. the space was dimly lit, bathed in the glow of a few industrial-style lamps and the sharp, focused beams over several work stations. the walls were adorned with intricate flash art, some in muted tones, others bursting with colour, depicting everything from mythical beasts to delicate floral arrangements. the rhythmic hum of tattoo machines was a constant, low thrum, a heartbeat to the place.
a woman emerged from behind a heavy velvet curtain, carrying a clipboard that seemed to disappear in her grasp. you froze, clutching your bag, a silent "oh, that’s her" escaping your internal monologue.
she was exactly as manon had described, and yet, somehow, so much more. dark, unruly curls framed a face that held a captivating blend of severity and something you couldn’t quite decipher. her eyes, a deep, intelligent brown, narrowed slightly as they took you in, instantly making you feel like your entire life story was being read from your slightly rumpled jeans to your suddenly inadequate hair. her thick, sharp eyebrows, one adorned with a small silver hoop and a subtle, intriguing slit carving through the hair, added to the intensity. she wore a faded, oversized band t-shirt, several sizes too big, revealing glimpses of intricate sleeve tattoos peeking from beneath the rolled-up fabric. her cargo pants were equally baggy, cinched low on her hips, and her worn-out combat boots looked like they’d seen a thousand miles. it was a look that screamed "don’t mess with me," yet, inexplicably, you found yourself drawn to it, a strange sense of comfort in her unpretentious style.
“you must be…?” her voice was a low alto, surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to her formidable appearance. she stopped a few feet away, clipboard still clutched, her gaze steady.
“ooh! uh, yes. (y/n). i have an appointment. manon… manon recommended you.” you instantly felt like a bumbling fool, your voice a register higher than you’d intended.
a flicker, almost imperceptible, crossed her features. a hint of a smile? a slight tightening of the lips? “ah, manon. of course.” she nodded slowly, her serious eyes still on you. “daniela. nice to meet you, (y/n).” she pronounced your name with a slight roll of the letters, making it sound… interesting.
she shifted her weight, the clipboard rustling softly. “so, you’re here for the… the piece we discussed?” she walked past you, gesturing towards a small, comfortable–looking lounge area with a few plush armchairs and a low coffee table scattered with tattoo magazines. “have a seat.”
you complied, feeling a little like a puppet on strings. daniela, despite her seemingly nonchalant demeanor, was effortlessly controlling the flow of the interaction. she sat opposite you, not quite looking at you now, instead flipping through the pages on her clipboard with practiced ease. but you noticed it then: a slight tremor in her hand as she turned a page, a subtle clench of her jaw. she seemed… nervous? that couldn’t be right. this formidable woman, nervous?
“manon sent over the reference images. a tramp stamp, floral piece, correct?” her eyes flickered up, meeting yours again, and you felt a jolt shoot through you. there was something in their depth, a quiet curiosity that belied the stern front.
“yes, that’s right. a… a sprig of rosemary, and some lavender.” you tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered.
“hmm.” she tapped a pen against the clipboard. “good choice. simple, elegant. timeless.” her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. “so, first tattoo, then?”
you nodded. “is it that obvious?” a small, self–conscious laugh escaped you.
a corner of her mouth twitched upwards, a genuine, if fleeting, smile. "a little. the wide eyes, the nervous fidgeting." she gestured subtly to your hands, which you belatedly realized were indeed twisting your bag strap into a knot. you quickly unraveled it, heat rising to your cheeks. "don’t worry. everyone’s like that their first time." her voice was a balm, soothing yet with an underlying current of something… playful. "it’s a big deal. permanence."
she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees, her dark eyes still locked with yours. "so, what made you finally take the plunge? manon’s incessant nagging, i presume?" there was a hint of amusement in her tone, and the serious expression in her eyes seemed to soften, just a fraction.
"mostly," you admitted, a genuine smile finally breaking through your apprehension. "she’s very convincing. but… i’ve thought about it for a while. just needed that final push."
"and no one to hold your hand today, huh?" her voice was low, almost a murmur, and for a fleeting second, it felt like a question loaded with double meaning. "manon said she couldn’t make it."
“no, lara had something come up too.” you explained, feeling a strange need to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen between you. "so, it’s just me."
“just you and me…” daniela echoed, her gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. her expression was unreadable, but the subtle shift in the air was palpable. a spark.
she straightened up, pushing the clipboard onto the coffee table. "alright. let’s get you prepped. you can follow me to the station." she led the way to a private booth, partitioned by more of the heavy velvet curtains. inside, it was pristine. stainless steel trays, meticulously arranged needles in sterile packets, a new, untouched roll of paper on the client bed. the sharp smell of disinfectant was stronger here. the contrast between her scruffy, lived-in attire and the immaculate precision of her workspace was striking.
"hop up," she instructed, pointing to a stretcher that looked like it was from a hospital.
she nodded, then took your arm gently, her fingers surprisingly soft as they moved over your skin. a shiver, unrelated to nerves, went down your spine. "good spot. it’ll wrap nicely." she held your arm, turning it, examining the canvas. "you have nice skin, very calm… i guess your lower back should be the same, right?” her eyes met yours again, a direct, intense look that made your breath hitch. “should take the ink well.”
with a light, clean, and quick movement, daniela hooks her fingers into the hem of your shirt and pulls it up to the middle of your back, enough to reveal the soft skin of your lower back that was slowly beginning to turn into goosebumps. she began to meticulously clean the area, her movements precise and efficient. the cold swipe of the alcohol pad, the scent sharp and clean. then she pulled out the stencil. “alright, this is the design manon sent. how do you feel about the placement, the size?” she held a mirror, allowing you to see it on your lower back.
it was perfect. the delicate curves of the rosemary, the tiny buds of the lavender. "it’s beautiful. i love it."
“good.” her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, a small, genuine smile that transformed her face, softening the harsh angles and making her seem less intimidating, more… approachable. “alright. this is the part where it gets a little spicy.”
she adjusted the angle of the chair, pulled up her stool, and put on a fresh pair of black gloves with a loud snap that echoed in the quiet room. the faint scent of latex mixed with the sterile tang of disinfectant, filling the air in a way that made everything feel suddenly more real. the hum of the tattoo machine as she switched it on was a low, steady drone—persistent, buzzing, like a warning and a promise all at once.
“ready?” her voice was calm, grounded, like she’d done this a thousand times. maybe she had. but not with you.
you nodded, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. the table beneath you was firm but padded, the paper sheet crinkling slightly as you settled in, bare skin exposed to the cool air. you were lying face down, your lower back uncovered, spine subtly arched. the touch of the antiseptic wipe made you flinch involuntarily—icy and clinical, dragging across your skin with purpose. you clenched your fists as the chill passed, only for it to be replaced by the damp, tacky sensation of the stencil transfer being pressed into place. it clung to you, cold and sticky, the outline of what would soon become permanent etched in invisible ink against your skin.
“just relax,” daniela murmured, leaning close enough that the ends of her dark hair tickled the nape of your neck. her gloved fingers pressed softly, mapping out your skin, finding the right starting point. her touch was confident—unhurried, almost intimate in how sure it was. you barely dared to breathe.
then the needle touched.
a sharp, vibrating scratch—more intense than you'd expected. it tore across your skin in a flurry of hot pinpricks, a thousand wasp stings buzzing under your flesh. your back stiffened immediately, your face burrowing deeper into the donut-shaped pillow as your fingers gripped the edges of the table in a white-knuckled hold. daniela’s rhythm was steady, unfazed, her machine producing a hypnotic zzz-zzz-zzz as the needle danced its meticulous path across your lower back.
at first, it was tolerable. it hurt, yes—but in a dull, burning way, like heat pressed into a bruise. the kind of pain you could grit your teeth through. but then—she hit something else. a nerve, a cluster of sensitivity that flared up like lightning under your skin. the pain sharpened, electric, crawling down your spine and curling your toes involuntarily. your whole body tensed—and before you could stop yourself, a soft, startled sound escaped your throat.
“mmmph,” you moaned into the pillow. it wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable—half-whimper, half-gasp, laced with surprise and something dangerously close to pleasure.
the machine stopped.
immediately, your face flushed, mortified. heat crawled up your cheeks, burning against the vinyl pillow. had she heard that? of course she had. how could she not? the silence in the room now felt deafening without the buzz of her machine. your heart pounded as you braced for her reaction.
and then—she laughed. not cruelly. worse—amused. entertained. clearly delighted.
“well, well, well,” daniela purred, her voice thick with mischief. you could hear the smirk stretching across her lips without having to look. “didn’t realize my touch was quite so… stimulating.”
you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. “it just… hit a spot,” you mumbled, muffled and meek into the pillow.
her chuckle deepened as she leaned in closer. you felt her breath fan across your ear as she whispered, “are we enjoying ourselves back here, sweet pea?”
your stomach twisted. your skin felt hot in places untouched. her voice was teasing, but there was a subtle edge to it—playful, yes, but aware. aware of your every shift, every breath, every tremble.
“oh, i’m sure it did,” she continued, casually rolling her chair a little closer, her gloved fingers returning to your skin. “don’t worry, darling. we’re just getting started. and if you keep making those sounds, the neighbors might start to get ideas about what kind of work i really do in this shop.”
you groaned softly, this time in pure exasperation, but she only giggled again—pleased, unbothered.
the machine roared back to life with a flick of her foot, a renewed vibration that sent anticipation crawling along your spine. you felt her reposition the needle, press it back into your skin with no warning—and the pain returned, hot and constant. but now, beneath it, was a low, persistent ache of awareness. of self-consciousness. of her.
“but hey,” she said over the buzzing, far too cheerfully, “who am i to judge? just let me know if i need to install a headboard on this table.”
you let out a strangled laugh, but it was quickly swallowed by the next jolt of the needle. she was relentless. and worst of all, she was clearly having the time of her life.
this was going to be a long, long session. and daniela wasn’t going to let you forget a single second of it…
daniela’s eyes darkened with lust as she took in the sight of your cute ass pointing up at her, barely covered by your pants. a wicked grin spread across her face as she drank in the delicious view – your legs, the tantalizing curve of your waist, and the perfect heart–shaped ass that begged to be grabbed and squeezed.
“fuck, you look good enough to eat, you know?” daniela purred, her voice low and hungry. unable to resist, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to one of your ass cheeks, her lips lingering and savoring the soft, supple flesh.
her hands slid up your thighs, thumbs brushing teasingly along the sensitive skin behind your knees before gripping your hips in a firm hold.
“i could spend hours worshipping this ass...” she murmured, kneading the round globes appreciatively. “it’s just begging to be grabbed and spanked and fucked.”
to punctuate her words, daniela delivered a sharp smack to your ass, watching in satisfaction as the flesh jiggled through your clothes from the impact. she soothed the sting with a gentle rub, before trailing kisses along your spine, each one growing more insistent and demanding as she made her way up your back.
by the time, daniela reached your shoulders, her kisses had turned into nips and bites, her hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. she hovered over you, her breath hot against the back of your neck as she ground her own hips against your ass, letting you feel the hard, insistent length of her arousal.
“tell me what you want, babe.” daniela breathed, her voice a dark command. “tell me how you want me to take this sexy body of yours. i want to hear you say it.”
you know you shouldn’t cross the line, you know that very well. after all, you were supposed to just come here for a simple tattoo appointment, but daniela seemed to have other plans in mind... and little by little she was infecting you.
“... please, just make me feel good.”
daniela eyes flashed with triumph and desire at your breathless plea. without hesitation, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your shorts and tugged them along with your underwear down your legs, tossing them carelessly to the side. her hands slid back up your thighs, pushing them apart as she settled between your spread legs.
“with pleasure, doll.” daniela purred, her voice dripping with lust. “i’m going to devour this sweet cunt until you're screaming my name.”
she leaned in, her breath hot against your sensitive flesh as she inhaled deeply, savoring your intimate scent. then, without warning, daniela buried her face between your ass cheeks, her tongue delving deep into your dripping slit.
she licked and sucked and flicked, her tongue plunging in and out of your tight hole as she feasted on your essence. daniela gripped your hips hard, pulling you back against her eager mouth as she ate you out with wild abandon, spurred on by the desperate sounds spilling from your lips.
“that’s it, baby. fucking moan for me.” she growled, the vibrations of her voice sending shockwaves through your core. “let everyone in this fucking street know who this pussy belongs to.”
daniela focused her attention on your swollen clit, sucking the throbbing bud into her mouth as she fucked you hard and fast with her tongue. her fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave marks, as she held you in place, determined to make you come undone.
daniela could sense your body tensing, feel the way your walls fluttered and clenched around her invading tongue as your climax approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking and licking and fucking you with renewed fervor, desperate to feel you come apart in her arms.
“come on, angel. give it to me.” daniela commanded, her voice muffled against your slick flesh. “i want to feel you gush all over my face, want to taste your sweet essence flooding my mouth. don’t hold back, baby. let go and fucking soak me.”
she thrust two fingers deep into your tight cunt, pumping them in and out at a furious pace as she licked and sucked your clit mercilessly. daniela could feel your body shaking, your thighs quivering and your back arching as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“that’s it, pretty girl. fucking scream for me.” she growled, her own arousal skyrocketing at the thought of reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess beneath her touch. “i want to hear you shout my name as you come all over my face. do it, (y/n)! fucking let go and come for me.”
with a final, hard suck to your clit, daniela plunged her fingers as deep as they could go, rubbing that special spot inside you, sending you flying over the edge into ecstasy. daniela felt your velvet walls clamp down around her fingers like a vice as your orgasm crashed over you, your sweet nectar gushing out and flooding her mouth. she moaned in triumph, greedily swallowing every drop as she worked you through your climax, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from your quivering body.
“fuck yes, just like that.” daniela praised, her voice ragged and raw with desire as she finally pulled back, releasing your sensitive flesh from her hungry mouth. “you’re fucking exquisite when you let go like this, angel. i could watch you come apart on my tongue for hours.”
she crawled up your body, hovering over you with a wicked grin as she took in your disheveled appearance — hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips parted as you struggled to catch your breath. daniela brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, her touch almost tender in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.
“but don’t think we’re done yet, my perfect little fuck doll.” she murmured, her eyes glinting with a dark promise. “that was just the warm–up round. by the time i’m finished with you, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week. i’m going to fuck you in every room of this shop, mark you inside and out as mine.”
to emphasize her words, daniela rolled her hips against yours, letting you feel the hard, aching length of her arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered. “now, tell me what you want, (y/n). tell me how you want me to take this sexy body next. i want to hear you say it, baby. beg for it.”
“fuck me.”
daniela’s eyes darkened with lust at your breathless plea, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. “mmmh, i thought you’d never ask, angel. i’m going to fuck this tight little cunt so hard, you won’t forget who it belongs to.”
with that promise, daniela reached over to the drawer of a piece of furniture, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for — a bottle of lube. she slicked up her fingers, tossing the bottle aside carelessly as she settled between your spread legs once more.
daniela teased your entrance with the tips of her fingers, circling your swollen, sensitive folds and making you squirm with anticipation. then, without warning, she plunged two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out at a steady, relentless pace.
“fuck, you’re so tight.” daniela groaned, her voice strained with desire as she worked a third finger into your clenching hole. “i can’t wait to feel this pussy gripping my cock, milking me for all i’m worth.”
she scissored her fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for what was to come. her other hand slid up your body, palming your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples through your shirt between her fingers until they pebbled under her touch.
daniela leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as she continued to finger fuck you hard and fast, her thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. she swallowed your moans and whimpers, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure like a woman starved.
suddenly, she pulled away, leaving you empty and aching for more. daniela quickly shed her clothes, revealing her own stunning body, all lean muscle and soft curves. she grabbed a condom from the drawer, rolling it over her hard, throbbing cock with deft movements.
positioning herself at your entrance, daniela gripped your hips hard, her fingers digging into your flesh as she slowly, teasingly pushed forward. the head of her cock caught on your entrance, stretching you open, before she thrust forward, burying herself balls deep in one smooth, hard stroke.
daniela let out a guttural groan as your tight, wet heat enveloped her aching cock, your walls gripping her like a velvet vice. she stilled for a moment, savoring the exquisite feeling of being buried deep inside you, before she started to move.
“fuck, baby. you feel incredible.” daniela panted, her hips withdrawing until only the tip of her cock remained inside you, before slamming forward, filling you up completely once more. “i’ve wanted this for so long, wanted to feel a perfect pussy wrapped around my dick.”
she set a hard, fast pace, the room filling with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin as she fucked you with deep, powerful strokes. daniela gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as she pounded into you, her eyes locked onto yours, watching your every reaction.
“that’s it, angel. take it. fucking take my cock.” she growled, her voice strained with lust and effort. “i’m going to ruin this pussy for anyone else. no one will ever make you feel as good as i do.”
one hand slid up your body, wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump beneath your skin. the other hand snaked between your legs, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight, fast circles, matching the brutal pace of her thrusts.
daniela could feel her own release approaching, the telltale tingling building at the base of her spine. she wanted to feel you come apart first, wanted to hear you scream her name as she fucked you through your own climax.
“come on, baby. come on my cock.” daniela commanded, her voice a dark, demanding growl. “i want to feel this pussy spasm around me, milking me for all i’m worth. fucking soak my dick, angel. give it to me.”
daniela felt your velvet walls start to flutter and clench around her pistoning cock as your climax approached. she doubled her efforts, pounding into you with a wild, almost feral intensity, determined to push you over the edge.
“that’s it, baby. fucking come for me.” daniela growled, her voice raw and strained with the force of her thrusts. “i want to feel this pussy squeezing the cum out of my cock. give it to me, angel. now.”
she slammed into you one, two, three more times before grinding her hips hard against yours, burying herself as deep as physically possible. at the same time, daniela pinched your clit hard, rolling the sensitive nub between her fingers, sending jolts of electricity shooting up your spine.
the combination of the intense stimulation and daniela’s commanding words pushed you past the point of no return. with a sharp cry of her name, your body went rigid, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.
daniela felt your pussy clamp down around her like a silken vice, gripping her cock like you never wanted to let go. the sensation was too much, too intense, and with a hoarse shout of your name, she followed you into ecstasy.
her hips jerked and spasmed as she came hard, her cock pulsing and throbbing inside you as she filled the condom with her release. daniela collapsed against you, panting harshly as she tried to catch her breath, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax
she pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck, murmuring words of praise and adoration against your skin. “fuck, babe. that was... incredible. you’re fucking perfect, baby. my perfect little fuck doll.”
“let me return the favor. let me suck you off.”
daniela’s eyes widened in surprise at your breathless offer, a slow, wicked grin spreading across her face. she pulled back slightly, taking in your disheveled appearance — hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening. the sight of you, freshly fucked and eager to return the favor, sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins.
“mmmh, you want to suck my cock, baby?” daniela purred, her voice low and dripping with lust. “i thought you’d never ask. i’d love nothing more than to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”
she carefully pulled out of you, hersing softly at the sensation of your tight heat releasing its grip. daniela quickly shed the used condom, tossing it aside carelessly before lounging back against the pillows, one hand behind her head as she beckoned you closer with the other.
“well, come here then, baby. show me what that talented mouth can do.” daniela encouraged, her eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your naked body. “i want to see you worship my cock like the good little slut you are.”
she spread her legs wider, her hard, slick cock jutting out proudly from a trimmed nest of dark curls. the musky scent of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air between you, making your head spin with desire.
“so what are you waiting for, doll? get over here and put that mouth to work. i want to feel you choke on my dick as you suck me off like a good girl.”
daniela’s breath hitched as your soft lips wrapped around the sensitive head of her cock, your warm breath sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. she watched, enraptured, as your mouth slowly engulfed more of her length, inch by hard, throbbing inch disappearing between your stretched lips.
“oh, fuck yes.” daniela groaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she savored the exquisite feeling of your wet, velvet heat surrounding her aching flesh. “your mouth feels incredible, baby. so fucking good.”
her fingers tangled in your hair, gripping the silky strands as she guided your head, urging you to take more of her cock. daniela’s hips twitched, fighting the instinct to thrust up into the welcoming warmth of your mouth, to fuck your face until she spilled her load down your eager throat.
as your nose pressed against the coarse hair at the base of her shaft, daniela let out a low, guttural moan, her grip on your hair tightening reflexively. she looked down at you through hooded eyes, taking in the erotic sight of your lips stretched obscenely around her thick cock, your cheeks hollowed as you suckled greedily at her flesh.
“that’s it, angel. take it all like a good girl.” daniela praised, her voice strained with pleasure. “i love seeing my dick stretching out your pretty face. you were made to suck cock, baby.”
she rocked her hips in shallow thrusts, fucking your mouth with short, controlled strokes as she reveled in the feeling of your tongue swirling around her sensitive cockhead. daniela could feel the telltale tightness building in her core, the pressure coiling like a spring ready to snap.
“fuck, i’m getting close already.” she panted, her grip on your hair turning almost painful in its intensity. “you’re going to make me cum so hard, angel. i’m going to pump my load straight down your throat and make you swallow every last drop.”
daniela’s eyes flashed with a dark promise as she stared down at you, her expression fierce and hungry. “so keep sucking, baby. milk my cock with that talented mouth until i give you your reward. drink down my cum like the perfect little cock slut you are.”
with a final, sharp cry of your name, daniela’s body went rigid as her climax overtook her. her grip on your hair turned brutal as she held you in place, your nose pressed hard against her pelvis as she ground her hips against your face. yhe first thick, hot spurt of her release hit the back of your throat, and you felt the first taste of her essence — salty and slightly bitter, with a hint of something uniquely daniela.
daniela’s cock jerked and twitched as spurt after spurt of her cum painted the inside of your mouth and slid down your eager throat. she moaned and shuddered through each pulse, her body wracked with the force of her intense orgasm. the sight of her lost in ecstasy, her face contorted in pleasure as she used your mouth for her own gratification, sent a dark thrill through you.
as the last waves of her climax washed over her, daniela slowly released her grip on your hair, her fingers trembling slightly as she cupped your cheek almost tenderly. she looked down at you with a satisfied, almost lazy smile, taking in the sight of your well–used lips and the way your throat worked as you swallowed the last of her release.
“fuck, baby. that was... incredible.” daniela panted, her voice raw and low, filled with a deep sense of contentment. “you took my cock so well, my perfect little slut. i knew you’d have a talented mouth, but that was beyond anything i could have imagined.”
she traced your lower lip with her thumb, smearing a stray bead of her own cum across the soft skin. “i think i’m going to keep you around, angel. as my own personal fuck toy and cock warmer. what do you say, doll? think you’re up for the job? i can finish that tattoo of yours and then continue with a few more rounds, if you’re willing for more…”
Daniela's eyes widened slightly at your bold request, a surge of arousal coursing through her. She loved it when you took charge, even if it was just to make a simple demand.
With a growl of approval, Daniela reached down between their bodies, unbuttoning her pants and pushing them down her hips along with her underwear. She kicked them off the bed, leaving herself bare.
She positioned herself between your legs, the head of her thick, throbbing cock pressing against your entrance. Daniela leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as she began to push inside.
Daniela groaned against your mouth as she felt herself being enveloped in tight heat. She paused once she was fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.
Pulling back from the kiss, Daniela looked down at you, her eyes burning with desire. "You feel incredible, my love. So tight and perfect. Fuck.." She whispered.
Daniela began to move, slowly at first, savoring the sensation of being inside her lover. Her hips rolled in a steady rhythm, her cock sliding in and out of your warmth.
Daniela's hands roamed over your body as she thrust, caressing every curve and dip. She leaned down to capture a nipple between her lips, sucking and nibbling gently as she continued to rock into you.
Daniela's movements became more urgent, her pace increasing as her own pleasure built.
dyk enigmas can actually impregnate other alphas 😭
OHHHHHH THIS CHANGES THINGS HAHAHA
an anon also sent me an ask regarding how manon being an enigma would fit into the current sodanon abo dynamics and I have been collecting my thoughts for a while and trust that this is a fact that will be included in the response
gdhshshshsh imagine none of the katz know manon is an enigma (even manon doesnt) and sodanon just casually go on about their love making routine like they go at it like rabbits tbh
until one day dani is hunched over the toilet seat vomiting at 7 am and sophia is panicking and manon is worried. and then they find out dani is pregnant like manon impregnated her and she’s so confused because she’s an alpha wtfffff
she definitely crashes out and growls and snarls at manon about it she’d be like: “you dumb idiot! why did you not use protection? tHIS IS HOW WE FIND OUT YOU’RE AN ENIGMA?”
and manon is sooo apologetic like she didnt mean it cuz she didnt know. sophia is trying to calm the both of them from spiraling with her omega pheromones, holding them and pushing her scent glands closer to the two to calm them down
eventually they all calm down (dani especially) and she admits with a blush that she doesnt mind keeping the child because it’s manon’s and she loves manon. manon is quick to reassure her too that she’ll take responsibility and will take care of her and the baby.
Then they all look at sophia unsurely because her opinion matters too in this relationship. Sophia is confused as to why they look scared because why would she not want this baby???? She had always wanted to be a mother and a child that has both her alphas traits and faces? a dream come true!
also side thought: a well respected alpha like dani getting impregnated by another alpha? and wanting to keep the child because she loves said alpha amidst the judging stares and comments from society? ohhhh dani is so down bad for manon
