sypnosis ! after last time you were sure you could resist your girlfriend…but she was making it impossible to focus.
warnings ! part 2 of ‘we ain’t gonna make it tonight’, g!p daniela, missionary(😋) tummy bulge(fuuckkk), spanish, breeding kink(yum?), horny reader, ovulating!reader, bondage(brrrr).
song choices ! i was never there by the weeknd ft gesaffelstein, do what i say by kwn.
after last time, you knew you had to have at least a bit more control over yourself; daniela made it so fucking hard.
you were on the couch yet again, watching a horror film. the scene in front of you was intense; the protagonist and his crew were talking to the villains, creepy music in the background.
daniela’s hand was on your knee, thumb moving back and forth slowly. she knows you can get jumpy with movies like this, and wanted to soothe you.
you, however, found that her hands were causing you more pain than the movie.
so, you decided to give her hints.
you shifted your body closer into hers, legs landing in her lap. she reached her arm over them, planting a kiss in your hair as she kept her eyes glued to the screen.
you got bold, resting your hand on her stomach, thumb rubbing her abs. you felt how they flexed under her white tank top, the sheer outline of them making you wet.
“you comfortable mami?”
she whispered in your ear, her voice a bit husky. you nodded, goosebumps appearing up your neck at her tone of voice.
daniela hummed, giving you a peck on the lips before continuing to watch the movie in front of you. shit, she was so clueless, you thought.
how could she not see how badly you wanted her? how badly you wanted to feel her inside you, wanting her to reach your soul, make your eyes roll back?
so, you added more action to your plan.
while daniela watched the movie you carefully began kissing up her neck, leaving soft kisses up to her jaw. it seemed innocent, you just wanting some affection from her. she flinched, shifting her head to give you more access.
“you seem distracted baby. what’s on your mind?”
daniela teased, threading a hand through your hair. you hummed, looking up at her hazel eyes.
they were huge, but you planned on making them dilated for the rest of the night.
“mmm, you could say i need you.”
you started, hand moving to her pants.
“and i wanted to wait until the movie was over…”
you dragged a manicure nail over her pants draw string, pulling it loose.
“..but now my body craves you.”
daniela’s face said it all, her cheeks a light red as she inched closer to you, reaching across you body to grab the remote. she clicked the tv off, her surroundings were nothing but you. your voice, your lips, your hair, your body.
she wanted to devour you; and you let her.
she grabbed your face, kissing you with so much content, passion, energy. you fisted your hands in her curls, falling back onto the couch.
“quiero llevarte bien, en la cama, mi amor..”
daniela murmured against your lips, lifting you with swiftness and carrying you to her room.
the latina placing you gently on the bed. the kisses turned sloppy, your tongues meshing against each other. she broke away from you, going to grab your deep green handcuffs from the dresser.
you smirked, putting your hands over your head as she cuffed them to the bed. daniela leaned back down to remove your mu$ic tee, your breasts on full display for her.
she began sucking on them, not wasting any time teasing you. one of her hands moved down to rub your clothed clit, causing a rough moan to come from you.
you were surrounded by daniela, her scent in your nose, her hands on your body, her lips tracing a pattern down your abdomen.
she shoved your shorts and panties down, your cunt glistening with slick. “fuck” she whispered, looking up at you as she stood.
she removed her own bottoms, cock slapping her stomach. it was already leaking, the tip flushed red and pulsing.
“te voy a arruinar tanto, te voy a llenar…”
daniela murmured as she aligned her dick to your entrance.
“please, i c-can take all of it.. do your worst..”
you breathed out, a sigh escaping your lips when daniela held her fingers to your mouth, letting you suck them off for a bit.
she pulled them out, rubbing your spit on her cock to lubricate it. she leaned back down, kissing you softly as she pushed inside you.
she went all the way in, stretching you perfectly. you both let out a groan, daniela beginning to rock her hips back and forth. she didn’t want to fuck you, she wanted to make love to you.
every time she went back in you moaned louder. she was hitting the right spots, her hand interlocked with yours as she picked her pace up a little.
“doing so well for me, mami. always knowing how good you are for me, how well you take my cock…”
she whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe lightly when she angled her hips at certain way.
you whined underneath daniela, her hips not stuttering once. “mmph, wanna fill you up so much…”
she picked up her pace more, the outline of dani’s cock visible in your lower abdomen.
“you’d like that, huh? having a bit of me inside you….mi novia desagradable”
she said, pushing your legs up to your chest.
she fucked you deeper, reaching places inside you you never thought she’d find. your eyes rolled back, leaving daniela access to your collarbone and neck.
she kissed your body softly, hums coming out of her mouth the closer she got to her climax.
“can i cum inside you baby? please, please, i-ill be so good…mmph..”
daniela’s hips finally began to stutter, her whimpers urging your own release on.
“do it, dani, fuck!”
she released thick ropes of cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim. she stayed inside you, the outline of her bulge reappearing in your lower stomach as she stayed buried into you.
soon she pulled out, your own cum leaking down you thighs. she groaned at the sight, leaning down to kiss your shaking thighs. your girlfriend looked up as she began lick it off your thighs.
“better than wasting our towels, mi vida.”
she said, coming back up to kiss you a few times. “you did so well for me, baby.” you just hummed, cuddling into her body. your face hid in the crook of her neck as she caressed your hair, leaving kisses there every few mintues.
after a while you spoke, a thought popping into your head.
“dani?”
you asked, looking up at her eyes.
“if i end up..pregnant…will you leave me?”
daniela’s eyes filled with concern, pulling you impossibly closer.
“no my love, never. im not like these other girls, ill stay with you until the end.”
you smiled, kissing her lips as she pulled the covers over the two of you, arm slung lowly around your waist.
the last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep was daniela’s face, her whispering to you.
“esta noche, y por muchas noches más, estoy en tu mundo y solo en el tuyo..”
do not copy, repost, or steal my work and post them on other platforms. you will be exposed.
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
