She felt it in the way your steps dragged just a little more than usual, in the way you didn’t drape yourself across her the second you got close, in the way your breathing hitched, tight, frustrated.
“…Alright,” Toph muttered, arms crossing as she leaned back against the stone behind her. “What’s got you acting weird?”
You huffed, dropping down beside her but not quite touching. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, sure. And I’m suddenly bad at earthbending.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. Your hands fidgeted in your lap instead, fingers picking at the fabric of your clothes.
Toph tilted her head slightly, listening not to your words, but to the rhythm of your heartbeat, the subtle shifts of your body against the ground. It told her everything.
“…You’re in your head,” she said flatly.
You hesitated then sighed. “I just…” your voice faltered, quieter now. “I don’t feel… good.”
Toph snorted softly. “That’s vague.”
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “I don’t feel pretty, okay? I feel big and....” you cut yourself off, frustrated. “Just… not great.”
There was a beat of silence then Toph moved. Her hand finding your wrist, it was firm, unyielding, pulling your hands away from your face before you could hide again. “Hey,” she said, sharper this time. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk about my girl like that.”
Your breath caught slightly at the tone.Because she wasn’t teasing anymore.
“I mean it,” Toph added, her grip tightening just a little. “You think I can’t tell when you’re trying to insult yourself? I feel everything you do.”
You swallowed, your voice softer now. “Toph…”
But she was already moving. In one smooth motion, she pulled you closer, her other hand sliding to your waist, gripping firmly as she shifted you into her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. You let out a small, surprised sound, your hands instinctively coming to her shoulders.
“Sit,” she muttered.
“I am sitting....”
“On me,” she corrected. “Where you belong.”
Heat crept up your neck at that, your fingers tightening slightly against her.
Toph tilted her head again, her lips quirking just a little. “There it is.”
“What?”
“That reaction.” Her hand slid along your side, slow, deliberate, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “The one you pretend you don’t have.”
You exhaled shakily, your body already leaning into her touch despite yourself.
“I’m serious, Toph…” you murmured.
“So am I,” she shot back.
Her hands moved again, strong, confident, completely unbothered by anything you’d said before. She traced along your waist, your hips, mapping you like she already knew every inch and loved it.
“You think I don’t notice?” she continued, voice lower now, rougher. “You think I don’t feel how soft you are? How you move?”
Your breath caught as her grip tightened just slightly, pulling you closer, pressing you more firmly against her.
“You’re insane,” she muttered, almost under her breath. “Calling yourself anything less than perfect.”
“Toph!”
“No,” she cut in, her hand sliding to your thigh, pushing it gently but firmly aside so she could settle you more comfortably against her. “You’re gonna sit here, and you’re gonna listen.”
Your heart pounded as her fingers traced higher, slower, your breath stuttering as she got closer to where you were already aching.
“I don’t see you,” she said, quieter now but heavier. “I feel you.”
Her hand slid between your thighs, deliberate, confident and when her fingers finally brushed your pussy, your entire body jolted.
“Toph—!”
“There,” she murmured, almost satisfied, her fingers pressing more firmly, feeling the way you reacted instantly. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Your hips shifted without thinking, chasing the touch, your breath already uneven.
“You feel that?” she asked.
You nodded, barely able to form words.
“Good,” she said.
Her fingers moved again, slower now, more intentional, spreading your folds, tracing through the warmth there like she was proving a point you couldn’t argue with. A soft, helpless sound slipped from your lips as she pressed more firmly, her thumb brushing just where you were most sensitive.
“That’s mine,” she muttered. “All of it."
Your hands gripped her shoulders tighter, your body already responding, melting into her despite the earlier tension still lingering in your mind.
“You still gonna tell me you’re not beautiful?” she asked, voice rough now.
“I....” your words broke into a breath as her fingers moved again, curling slightly, drawing a sharper sound from you. “Toph, I.”
“Yeah,” she cut in, almost smug. “That’s what I thought.”
Her other hand slid up your back, holding you steady as she worked you slowly, deliberately, like she had all the time in the world to prove her point.
“You’re soft,” she murmured, her forehead pressing briefly to your shoulder. “You’re warm. You react like this every time I touch you.”
Her fingers pressed deeper, slower, curling just enough to make your breath hitch again, your body tightening around her. “And you think that’s not perfect?” she added.
You shook your head weakly, your voice barely there. “I… don’t know…”
Toph huffed softly, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Then I’ll remind you,” she said.
Her pace didn’t rush but it didn’t stay gentle either. It built, steady and controlled, her fingers moving with confidence, her thumb pressing more firmly as she felt every reaction, every shift of your body.
“Say it,” she demanded quietly.
You let out a broken breath, your grip tightening on her. “I—”
“Say it,” she repeated, her voice sharper this time, her fingers curling again just right, pulling a helpless sound from you. "I want to hear it come from your lips."
“I’m...” you gasped, your body tightening, “I’m yours.”
“Not what I asked,” she muttered, another slow, deliberate movement, deeper this time.
“I’m beautiful—!” you finally broke, your voice shaking.
Toph stilled for half a second then smirked.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “You are.”
Her pace picked up just slightly after that, her grip firm, her focus entirely on you now not just proving a point, but finishing it. Your body responded faster, the tension building sharper now, your breaths coming quicker as you clung to her.
“That’s my girl,” she murmured.
Toph felt the shift immediately.
Not just the way your breathing steadied again after she’d left you trembling in her lap but the way your hands changed. Softer at first… then more certain.
“…What are you doing?” she asked, voice still a little rough, though there was already a hint of suspicion creeping in.
You smiled faintly against her shoulder, your fingers sliding from her back down to her waist, slow and deliberate this time. “What? I can’t touch my girlfriend?”
“You can,” she said easily, too easily but her shoulders tensed just slightly beneath your hands. “You’re just… being quiet about it.”
You hummed softly, your lips brushing near her ear. “Maybe I learned something.”
Toph snorted. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“That you like being in control…” your fingers slid lower, tracing along her side, “…but you don’t expect to lose it.”
Her breath caught, just for a second.
You felt it and that was all the confirmation you needed.
“Careful,” she muttered, though the warning didn’t have the same bite it usually did.
You shifted slightly in her lap, turning just enough to face her more fully. Your hands came up, cupping her jaw gently, something she always pretended to hate, even though she leaned into it every time.
“Relax,” you murmured. “Let me take care of you for once.”
Toph huffed, her hands resting on your hips again, but they didn’t stop you. “I don’t need taking care of.”
“No,” you agreed softly. “But you deserve it.”
That made her go quiet.
Your lips brushed hers, slower this time, softer—less teasing, more grounding. When she kissed you back, it wasn’t as forceful as before. Still strong, still sure but there was something else beneath it now. Something that let you take the lead.
Your hands slid down again, more deliberate now, tracing along her stomach, her hips, feeling the way her muscles tensed and relaxed under your touch. You took your time, just like she had.
“Spirits…” Toph muttered under her breath as your fingers pressed a little more firmly against her thigh.
You smiled faintly. “You feel that?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I feel everything.”
“Good.”
Your hand slipped between her thighs, slower than she had been with you, testing, learning, savoring. When your fingers finally brushed her pussy, her reaction was immediate. Her breath hitched, her grip on your hips tightening just slightly.
“…Don’t get cocky,” she muttered.
You hummed, your fingers moving again, spreading her folds carefully, feeling the heat there, the way her body responded even though she tried to stay composed. “I’m not,” you murmured. “Just paying attention.”
Her head tipped back just slightly as your thumb brushed over her, the tension in her body giving way piece by piece.
“You talk a lot for someone who’s about to lose control,” she shot back weakly.
You smiled against her jaw, pressing a soft kiss there. “You like it.”
“…Maybe.”
That was as close to an admission as you were going to get.
Your fingers pressed a little more firmly, slower at first, learning the way she reacted, the way her breath changed, the subtle shifts of her hips even when she tried to stay still.
“You don’t have to hold back,” you murmured.
“I’m not holding...” her words cut off into a sharp inhale as your fingers curled slightly, hitting just right.
“…okay,” she corrected under her breath.
You let out a quiet laugh, your other hand sliding up her chest, holding her steady as your pace built just slightly. “There she is,” you whispered.
Toph huffed, her hands tightening at your hips again, grounding herself even as her control started slipping. “Don’t get used to this.”
“Too late,” you murmured, your fingers moving more confidently now, your rhythm steady, deliberate, mirroring everything she’d done to you.
Her breathing grew uneven, her head dropping forward slightly until her forehead brushed yours.
“…You’re annoying,” she muttered.
“And you love me,” you whispered back.
“…Yeah,” she admitted quietly.
Your thumb pressed more firmly, your fingers curling again, drawing a sharper reaction from her this time, a low sound she didn’t even try to hide.
“That’s it,” you murmured, your hand steady, your focus entirely on her now. “Don’t fight it.”
Toph’s grip tightened again, her body responding faster now, the tension building with each movement.
“…Don’t stop,” she said finally, the words quieter than usual, but no less demanding.
You didn’t of course, you held her there, close, steady, your pace consistent as her control slipped further, her breaths breaking more with each second.
And when she finally let go it wasn’t quiet, your arms wrapped around her immediately after, holding her close as she steadied, her breathing slowly evening out again.
“…Don’t get smug about that,” she muttered weakly.
You smiled softly against her shoulder . “I wouldn’t dream of it.” You then placed a kiss to the nape of her neck.
Toph huffed but her arms tightened around you anyway, pulling you closer, keeping you there, right where you both wanted to be.
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CONTENT: cassie mckay x younger f! reader, you're her future housewife, mckay being a recovering addict mention, w|w, scissoring, pussy eating, mentions of marriage, money kink if you squint, fingering (r! receiving), mckay! strap usage, clit play, her spitting into her hand, step mom reader, you're the best step mom to harrison
SUMMARY: After dating for a while, McKay notices how well you take care of her and Harrison and decides to do something about it...
now playing: kisses by slowdive
A/N: idk what i'm doing writing this knowing i have no experience with women even though i've been bisexual since i was 12…ANYWAYS DON’T JUDGE ME!
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You pecked your girlfriend’s lips as Harrison sat down in his seat at the table, Cassie had an exhausting shift. She smiled as you placed her meal in front of her, knowing she’d get dessert later.
“Thank you, baby,” she rasped, her body slumped to the table as she tore into her food. You hated that she didn’t eat while she worked. However, you knew the money she earned provided for you, earning you the title of stay at home girlfriend.
Harrison nibbled at his meal, Cassie whispered to him.
“Be sure to thank momma for your meal.”
“Thank you, momma,” he uttered out, covering his mouth as he spoke.
You admired how Cassie raised him over the years, he earned straight A’s and was respectful. You couldn’t ask for anything more from your future step son, you spooned some food into your mouth, pausing to twist the beautiful rock that was casted around your finger.
Cassie gripped your hand into hers, feeling her smooth fingertips knead your palm. She grasped at your ring finger, spinning the jewelry around the digit.
“This is so good,” Harrison spoke as he chewed. “Can you make it again, momma?”
“Of course,” you grinned. “Anything for you, baby.”
Cassie always appreciated how you chose to step up, taking care of her son while she worked tirelessly in triage. How you’d grocery shop with her bills in your palm while you checked off the list of Harrison’s favorite foods. Pop-tarts, mac-n-cheese, oh of course, can’t forget the ramen…the tip of your pen would swipe swiftly against the notepad.
You would make the beds, do the laundry, her perfect little housewife.
“Do you have a man,” her patient would ask. “I could take you out, we could grab a drink?”
“No thanks,” she’d type into the computer mindlessly. “Been sober for over nine years.”
“Fine,” they’d pipe up. “Dinner then?”
“Got a wife at home, have to keep her busy or she’ll spend all my money.”
She never imagined this life, her being an addict all while she was with her ex. They were always broke. The divorce and custody battle cost a fortune, she dealt with it all throughout medical school. Constantly wondering how she'd pay to feed her son.
She had just started regaining her footing when you came along, you had stood by her in a restaurant. She was picking up her to-go order after a long shift, you were waiting by her side.
“Sorry if this sounds weird,” she began. “But your nails are really pretty, wish I could have them done like that.” She wished she could have them claw at her back while she pushed her strap into you, wanting your walls to clench around the silicon.
You smiled and thanked her, questioning if she was a nurse.
“I’m a doctor, actually,” she piped up.
“O-Oh I’m so sorry for assuming,” you felt so embarrassed as your cheeks flushed.
“It’s okay,” she responded. “It’s not common for a woman to be a doctor.”
“Order for ‘Cassie McKay’,” the hostess called.
Cassie plucked her order off the hostess stand, turning to face the door but pausing at the shell of your ear.
“Meet me outside?” she whispered against you, her hot breath cascading across your flesh.
When you received your order, you met her outside. You both chuckled as you got to know each other. You felt weird once you reached her apartment, you went to turn away before she reached out to grasp your wrist.
“Keep me company?” she asked.
You agreed and joined her, curling yourself into her couch, basking in the sterilized scent of the hospital that roamed her skin. Yet, she lit a vanilla scented candle, cleansing her home of the smell. It made her feel uncomfortable when she’d return home, knowing she didn’t want her son to pick up on her sterile stench.
A vanilla candle was lit on the dining room table, the welcoming smell encasing your new home. You had been dating Cassie McKay for a few years, she bought the house a couple months ago. She planned on proposing to you in it in front of Harrison. She would light all the candles in her home, the flames casting an incandescent glow among the living room. Harrison would hand you a card that would contain a heartfelt note, ending with the words “will you marry me?” Cassie felt the ring box rub against her buttocks, a constant reminder of who she was doing this all for, not just her son, but for you.
Cassie pressed a kiss to your temple as she gathered the dishes in her palms, hands that sewed countless wounds back together today. She scrubbed diligently at the porcelain as you reached your arms around her waist, pressing sweet kisses into her back.
Harrison padded out into the kitchen, kindly asking his mom if he could have a few minutes with his tablet, Cassie agreed.
You made sure Harrison was comfortable on the couch, tucking his legs underneath the blanket.
“Are you going to be okay for a few?” you asked.
He mindlessly nodded as he clicked on a youtube video, his brain getting lost in thought. You pressed a kiss to his hair, loving him like he was your own.
You shuffled to the bedroom, locking the door. You shedded Cassie out of her scrubs, tossing the fabric wherever. She pushed her lips to your temples and cheeks as you helped tugging off her clothing. When her tongue swiped across yours, you groaned into her mouth. She nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing among your collarbones.
“S-Stop,” you chuckled. “Harrison is right outside.”
“Don’t care,” she returned her lips to your neck, sucking your flesh. Her cold chain combed over your skin, making you gasp.
“I do,” you pushed her back. “Why don’t you shower, okay?”
Cassie pressed her forehead into yours, grasping at your hand that held her warm cheek.
“Okay,” she sighed.
Cassie scrubbed and washed the scent of the hospital off of her skin. She felt herself relax against the hot water.
“Harrison,” you spoke as you padded out of your bedroom, hearing the shower run behind your bedroom door. “It’s time for bed.”
“Ugh,” he groaned. “I don’t want to, momma.”
“Too bad,” you said as you placed your palm to his back, leading him to the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom.
You made sure he flossed and brushed his teeth, being sure to tuck him into his bed. You placed a kiss goodnight, across his forehead.
Cassie had just climbed out of the shower once you returned to your bedroom, clicking and locking the bedroom door behind you. She opened her naked arms, welcoming you in her clean embrace. She pressed a kiss to your temple before grasping your jaw, pulling your lips to hers.
You practically whimpered into her kiss, lusting at how the absence of her touch can pull these reactions out of you. You felt her reach her warm hands down your backside, her palms rubbing below the hem of your sleep shorts and hugging your ass, she tugged them off of you.
“Want you to be mine,” she moaned against your mouth, her towel dropping and pooling at her ankles. She pressed you to the bed, pushing your back into the brand new mattress.
“I want you to take care of this house,” she whispered against your lips. “Just like you take care of me and my son.”
You gasped as she ran her fingers through your folds, touching and feeling into your mound, feeling the slick coat and slip across her fingers as she pumped her digits in and out of you. She dug her fingers deeper with every stroke, curling slightly into your cervix and feeling your walls clench.
She continued combing her tongue around yours, swirling and tasting every inch of your cheeks. Her chain hanging around her neck tickled your collarbones, making you arch into her. She rubbed countless circles into your clit with her thumb.
She was meticulous with her hands, just like every doctor would be. She continued coating your tongue with her sweet kisses, fumbling around for her strap on. She slid it across her waist tightly, either rubbing at your clit or squeezing your nipple between her fingertips. She spat into her palm, pushing the length of the silicon through her coated fist.
She thrusted the head of the toy into you, you whimpered at how your insides stretched around it. She gasped at your sounds, how you clawed into her hips, dragging the toy deeper into you.
“Want me to fuck you like I mean it?” she rasped.
‘Yeah…” you moaned. “Yeah.”
She pumped her hips into you, her thumb kneading at your swollen clit. You clutched around the toy, feeling its false veins forcing into you. However, that feeling was your Cassie. That was her cock. Cassie pressed her smooth hand onto the flesh of your breast, squeezing it, twisting your sensitive hardened bud.
You moaned underneath her, she pulled herself to you. Her mouth agape and pressing to your nipple. She bit and nibbled across it, swirling her tongue around your breast. She placed her lips across your chest, adorning your breasts with hot kisses, her tongue sliding and sucking across your skin, leaving marks across your plump tits.
She pulled out of you, flipping you onto your stomach. She boned into you, pressing her hand to your belly and feeling the false length bulge into your abdomen. Her own slick was pooling in her folds.
She pressed a forceful kiss to your cheek as she discarded the belt of her strap. She crawled into the bed with you, grasping your leg and pulling it across her shoulder blade, exposing your center to her.
She spat onto your clit, you growled at the feeling. She flipped you onto your back, moving to where the air of your heat kissed hers. She grinded her hips into yours, your mounds basically making out with each other. Your slick folds slid against each other, her bundle of nerves rubbing against your pearl. It felt so good, your girlfriend sliding her slick across yours, how your thighs would entangle with one another.
She continued to rub across you, she brought her fingers to your center, feeling your swollen clot.
“I’m gonna cum,” you’d heave.
Cassie would pull her pussy away from yours, moving to where her mouth would cast a hot breath amongst you before diving in. She’d press her tongue deep into your insides, wanting to lap up every bit of your release. She’d toy and graze at your clit every now and then until your cum would coat her tongue, her dabbing up every bit of it as it would pool and cascade across her tongue.
“Want you to marry me,” she’d whisper, fumbling for her scrub pants encasing the ring.
Once she found it, she’d wrap your finger with the band, kissing you knuckle.
“Yes,” you’d whimper.
She’d press kisses deep into your cheeks, wanting to taste every part of your skin.
“S-Sorry, baby,” she’d heave against your bare chest. “Didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
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