#before you say anything about how he looks high i need you to know that that is Canon actually. like genuinely

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

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XIX. Trouble (Smut!18+!MDNI)

Nulla sunt arcana quae tempus non indicat.

There are no secrets that time does not reveal.

                                                                  J.R.

"Hanno?" You stammered slightly. It was strange to see him standing before you after such a long time and even more confusing to feel uncertain about how to respond. "Is that really you?"

He smiled, displaying his familiar smile.

"I think so."

That was exactly the sort of response he'd give.

"There he is!"

A man shouted from behind, momentarily distracting you. Hanno narrowed his eyes and swore.

"Get him! Quickly!”

Before you could even think, Hanno grabbed your arm and whispered in your ear, "I'll be at the popina (wine bar) near the gladiator school tomorrow." He took a quick look over your shoulder.

Geta looked alarmed when he saw the men running towards you. "Aurelia! Protect the princess!"

"I have to go now. I'll wait for you there, Aya."

You opened your mouth, but you couldn't say anything; you just watched him running down the street, getting away. The men stormed past you and ran after him, while Geta and the guards came to your side in a hurry.

"My lady! Are you alright?"

Geta grabbed your shoulders. "Did he do something to you?"

You shook your head.

At that moment, the sound of horses neighing echoed around.

"General!" one of the guards called out, looking backwards.

You both looked over there.

Marcus jumped off his horse, eyes narrowed, which made you nervous. He was looking at Geta's hands on your shoulders as he walked quickly towards you, so Geta swiftly removed his hands from your shoulders.

"Acacius, you are very intuitive."

But he did not look at him, his eyes fixed on yours. You smiled at him, though it was weak.

"My lady, I was not aware of your intention to visit here." His voice was filled with curiosity. He turned his eyes to Geta.

"I have asked her to accompany me here."

You were about to answer yourself when the men who had just chased after Hanno turned around with him, grabbing both arms. Geta stopped them with a raised hand.

They bowed to him.

"Who is this man? How dare you touch the princess? Speak!"

You looked at Geta, getting mad at him for mentioning 'touching thing' in front of Marcus. Just as you expected, he clenched his jaw, tensing up.

“I said speak!”

Hanno didn't answer, he just glared at him menacingly, which made them even more tense.

"Emperor Geta asked you a question!" Marcus snarled.

"He escaped from the gladiator school, Your Majesty. We've been looking all over for him." One of them replied.

"He's from the colonies, your highness. He only speaks his native language." The other one explained.

Your eyes widened as Marcus gripped the handle of his sword.

"He meant no harm," you said, your voice cracking.

"Gladiator?" Geta tilted his head and studied his face. He then looked at them and yelled. "How could you let him escape and roam free on the streets? You useless bastards!"

Hanno looked at Marcus in a slightly odd way; there was a clear sense of tension between them.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Geta gestured with his hands. "Get him out of here now!"

You placed both hands on Marcus' as he gripped his sword. "I'm alright," you reassured him.

Your touch had the usual calming effect on him. But his expression didn't soften until the men pushed Hanno into the prisoner's carriage. Hanno gazed at you from within the cage as you watched his departure, and you struggled to keep a straight face while trying to suppress your feelings. Marcus looked at you, examining your face. "Are you certain you're alright?" he asked, knowing you well enough to read your facial expressions correctly.

You smiled and nodded. "I am, really. But I thought you were in the barracks," you said, glancing at Octavius behind him.

"I was..." Marcus said then turned his gaze to Geta. "There is an urgent matter. I need to take you to Palatine Hill."

Geta narrowed his eyes. "Is it about that bastard cousin of mine?”

Marcus glanced at the children gathered around you, and the people looking at you with curious eyes. "I think you'd better see for yourself when you get there. Shall we?"

"I simply hope that one day will pass without incident! Just one!" Geta grumbled as he walked with the guards to the carriage.

Marcus smirked then he turned towards you. "I believe you would like to come with us, my lady."

It wasn't a question or a request, but the way he was acting made you curious.

"I'd like to come with you, General, if that's alright. It's been over a month since I paid my respects to my father anyway."

"As you wish, my princess.” He was usually a bit hesitant about you going there, but not today, apparently. He helped you onto the carriage and winked at you before walking over to his own horse and getting on.

"General Acacius. Commander Darius. What is the meaning of this? Tell me what's happening here at once!”

You were as bewildered as Geta as you took in the scene before you on Palatine Hill. Nerissa, the slave girl you thought was dead, was alive—and she had a baby with her.

"Your cousin Elagabalus was holding this girl captive, Your Majesty," Darius explained. "My men found her and brought her here."

Geta's eyes widened in surprise. "Why would he do that?" he asked loudly.

You sat down next to Nerissa, who looked frightened. Embracing her, you felt her begin to cry. The baby was crying too; it seemed he had been born only a few weeks after your own. As a mother yourself, you could tell that the baby was hungry. “Why don’t you gentlemen talk outside?” 

All three of them looked at you and nodded, except Geta, who frowned instead of nodding.and then all left. The girl then explained to you everything that had happened to her while she was breastfeeding the baby. After Flavius and his men had attacked all the slaves and wounded her, the other guards, the ones under Macrinus captured her. And after Macrinus was executed, they cooperated with the men of Leptis Magna and handed her over to them. And she said that she was already close to labour when Elagabalus found her. Poor girl was so exhausted and weak that she thought she was going to lose the baby. Compared to your chubby Marcius, the baby looked thin, he was two weeks to pass his first month and you couldn't hide that you were a little worried about him. In fact, Nerissa was a noble Greek, not a slave, she had told you her story before. Maybe that's why she was kidnapped. If Macrinus cared about this girl there must be certain reason of her importance. Suddenly the baby started crying again, you checked her breast, she must be low on milk.

"Give him to me," you said, holding out your hands.

"But, my lady…”

"My breast milk is enough for both my Marcius and your baby," you said with a smile.

She returned your smile and placed her baby in your arms. Unlike your chubby Marcius, this baby had silky golden blonde hair on top of his head, just like his father. She thanked you and prayed for you as the baby suckled at your breast. Just as you were about to hand the baby back to her, Julia burst into the room.

“What do you think you're doing?”

You glared at her and handed the baby to her mother, who flinched in fright. You stood up and approached Julia, not liking the way she looked at the girl.

"You get the hell out of here right now and take the child with you!"

She sat up but you stopped her by raising your hand.

"Why would she? After all, she gave birth to a boy, it's Geta's."

"So? The child can't inherit the throne unless Geta weds her."

"I am aware. You must free the girl first, then wed them."

"She's a slave! How dare you think she's worthy of our emperor?"

'You know your son's interest in her. She's a concubina, not an ordinary slave."

"Yet she's not his wife! The Senate wouldn't accept the child as an heir since it wasn't born from legal marriage.”

“That is why I’m saying you must wed them. She’s a captive of war, forced into slavery. Her family is noble, isn't it, Nerissa?"

The girl nodded, looking at her hesitantly. "Yes, my Empress. If we were to send word to my family in Athens, I'm sure they would be able to send you an answer.”

Julia put her hands on her waist, thinking. "You dumb girl. Why didn't you tell me all this time?"

Her cheeks flushed and she bowed her head. "Because I loved Emperor Geta with all my heart. He didn't want me to tell anyone about it, not even his brother Emperor Caracalla."

"All those fights they had... It wasn't just to share your cunt huh?"

"Lady Domna!" You barked.

She approached her, ignoring your glare. "Even if I can convince the Senate, I can't convince Geta. He's really determined not to get married." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll talk to him." You said without looking at her. Then you turned and looked at Nerissa. "Don't concern yourself. No one can get you thrown out of this palace. I'll make sure your family is notified."

"I'll take care of that, you try to convince Geta if you can. But I wonder one thing Aurelia. What's in it for you? What's going on inside that beautiful head of yours I really wonder?’

"Don't confuse me with yourself, Lady Domna. Some favors are given without expecting anything in return.."

She laughed hysterically. "You may deceive others with your gentle and innocent face, but not me. Helping all those poor people and winning the love of the people with this way was a good move. I would never have thought of doing such a sneaky thing. Well done."

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you about it, so I won't tire myself out."

You turned your back on her, leaving the room.

As you left Geta's chambers and walked towards the great hall, you noticed Octavius and the other Praetorians standing outside. You could hear Geta's loud voice coming from inside, so you went to talk to Octavius before entering. "I spoke with Decima," you said.

He looked up at you, a bit surprised.

"I will make sure to mention it to the general, so you can feel assured."

"Thank you, my lady. I really appreciate it. But if it's all right with you, I would like to speak with him myself first."

"Of course, Octavius," you replied with a warm smile.

He walked you to the door and the guards opened it for you.

Marcus and Darius looked at you. Geta however, his back was turned, resting his hands on the table. He then turned his head when he heard your footsteps.

"Commander Darius," you said, looking at him. "Would you please give us some privacy?"

"Yes, my lady," he replied, motioning for the other guards to step outside.

Geta poured himself a glass of wine and settled into the lectus behind the long golden-colored curtain.

Marcus grabbed your arm, "Perhaps it’s best if we don’t get involved."

You reassured him by touching his hand. "I just need to speak with him."

He let out a sigh, "I’ll be right here."

You smiled at him, then turned around and walked towards Geta. As you pushed the curtain aside with your hand, you noticed that he had already finished his glass. He turned it upside down and shook it. Quickly, you picked up the decanter from the table and poured more wine into his glass.

“He looks just like you, you know,” you said.

“Oh please!”

“What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy to see her again?”

“I'll die of happiness!” he replied sarcastically. You sat next to him. “You must marry her so the child can be your legal heir.”

He looked at you sternly, a look you had never seen before. “That's not how it works in Rome!”

“I know the truth about her,” you insisted.

“You know nothing, Aurelia!” he barked, then stood up angrily.

Marcus watched the two of you from a distance, clearly feeling nervous, but he waited patiently.

"We need to let her family know about all this. If you wed her quickly-"

"She does not have a family." He interjected emphatically, taking a moment to inhale deeply. "Caracalla had all of them executed."

"What did you just say?" you wailed.

Marcus stepped towards you as soon as he heard your loud voice. Still unable to believe what you had just heard, you didn’t notice him until he touched your back.

“It was before the revolt in Egypt. Her family came to Rome; they wanted to take her because she was the sister of their princess. That was one of the reasons the Greeks supported the revolt, Acacius.”

You looked at Marcus. It might sound a bit strange, but that rebellion actually brought you to him in a really unique way. After a moment of silence, you feel more determined to convince him.

“She must have had family left behind. You need to inform them about the situation. If you marry, it could be possible to establish peace between them and Rome, right? Additionally, if you appoint your son as your legal heir, you will regain their trust and take a step towards improving relations too.”

He folded his arms, “Marrying a Greek? I don’t think the Senate would approve of that.”

‘"Well, you must convince them, right?"

“I shall undertake that responsibility!" Julia's voice echoed through the great hall, filled with joy. "You must wed her, my son."

Geta looked at both you and Julia. "You two agree on that, huh? I’ll be damned." He then turned to Marcus. “What is your perspective, Acacius?”

"I am not a politician, Emperor Geta. However, it is undeniably advantageous for us that the Greeks refrain from participating in any future rebellions against Rome. So I agree with my wife, Lady Aurelia.”

You respected him; despite his modest denial of being a politician, he displayed considerable wisdom.

"I think I owe her that much," Geta murmured.

"We must start preparing for the wedding right away," Julia said with a smile. "But first, I need to invite the wives of the senators and discuss everything with them. They might be upset with me about this." Suddenly, her expression changed as she looked at you. "Aurelia, perhaps they'll be more easily persuaded if you join me. They respect you."

"Being in the same room with those women again? Not for me, Lady Domna," you replied. Julia was about to protest, but Marcus's stern gaze seemed to silence her.

"Then we ask for your permission to take our leave," Marcus said.

Geta nodded. "You may leave."

Marcus extended his arm, and you accepted it as you both departed from the hall. As you made your way out of the courtyard toward his horse, Marcus leaned in, whispering; “Aurelia, what is your intention?”

You met his gaze and lightly touched his face. “I am seeking to protect our son.”

He looked confused as he tried to understand your meaning. You took his hand. “Let us return home to continue our discussion; I miss our son deeply.”

He responded with a smile, gently kissing your hand. “So do I.”

“What you mentioned earlier...” Marcus said as he poured wine into his goblet. “I am curious about what you meant by protecting our son.” Marcius, seemed full, releasing your breast. He made the most beautiful sounds that filled the room with warmth and then drifted off to sleep peacefully.

“I meant to prevent him from being seen as the heir to the throne.” You stood up and gently put Marcius on the small mattress next to your bed. He seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep; at least, you hoped so. Marcus handed you one of the glasses and then moved over to watch him sleep. You took a sip from the glass and began to remove the fancy hairpins from your hair.

"You're afraid he might become emperor..." he said, covering him with the small blanket. "More than anything," you replied as you placed the hairpins into the box. "The weight of such responsibility is immense, Marcus. There will always be those who seek the throne and those who would want to harm him and manipulate him. How can I live with this fear? How can we live?" When you turned your head to look at him, you found him gazing back at you. He stood up and stepped toward you.

"I will be so relieved if Geta gets married as soon as possible," you said, yawning involuntarily. It had been a long and tiring day, first because of Hanno and then Geta.

Marcus's big hand reached behind you, grabbing your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, leaving your neck exposed. Your tiredness instantly faded, replaced by something else entirely.

"I can't disagree with that." You swallowed as his warm breath licked your neck. And you gasped as his lips found your jugular. You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the sanctity of his touch. He wrapped his arms around you, under your arms, and pressed himself against you. One hand slid down, under the fabric of your tunic, touching your folds. You moaned quietly as he stroked your clit with his thick fingers. "Are you ready to be mine, princess?" His tone was so seductive that you would be damned if you did refuse him.

"I am-mmph..."

Your delighted moan was muffled as he mashed his mouth against yours, aggressive and lustful. You shuddered and wrapped your arms around his neck without missing a beat, mewling submissively even as his hands left your clit and moved to your hips instead, grabbing them firmly and sending jolts of excitement up your stomach. He then lifted you up making you laugh unashamedly as his hands squeezing your butt-cheeks beneath fabric even as your lips stayed connected. His tongue prodded your lips and you parted them instantly, letting out a horny whine as it invaded your mouth and dominated yours with embarrassing ease. As if to comply with that he held your ass more firmly, that being the only warning you got before he roughly laid you down on the bed. The little one's cooing made you break the kiss. But when you looked at him he seemed happy in his sleep. You whispered to him as Marcus' impatient fingers quickly grasped the hem of your tunic. “I love this tunic of mine, so please be gentle.”

“With your tunic maybe, but not with you.” He said grinning, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He leaned down, his lips grazed down your collarbone, breath hot against it, and a moan rolled off of your tongue as he kissed the top of your breast and then sucked upon it harshly. You found yourself afraid that might be hurt but it didn’t.

The thought was purged from your mind though as he swiftly snatching your other nipple up in his mouth. You gasped, your hand ending up in his curly hair and tugging it; utterly melting as you felt his tongue swirl around repeatedly before he gave it a wet-sounding suck, tugging it out until your nipple sprung from his lips and left your breast jiggling a little. His face placed between your breasts a mere second later, growling lustfully as he rubs them and tickled you with his hot breaths. He didn't stay there for long. Planting another few quick kisses upon your flesh then with a rush of eagerness, he undressed himself, his movements fast, impatient. Simply making you aroused more.

Just like he said before, he wasn't gentle when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. He had just placed your legs over his shoulders when a soft cooing stopped him. You both looked at each other, remembering that there were three of you in the room now.

“How about we skip this part for now?”

Marcus smiled and kissed your knee. “I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

He leaned down and kissed you; it was passionate, tender, eager, and even a little rushed.

But then, however, there was his erection resting against your stomach, precum dripping onto your flesh. You ran one hand through the precum and along the length. He gasped at the touch, pulling away from the kiss. You met his eyes as you brought him to your entrance. He grinned, baring his teeth.

“Eager I see,” he said in a heated whisper.

With a playful grin, you pressed your finger to his lips and whispered, "Acta non verba, my love.”

Then, with a seductive lean back and spreading your legs, invited him in. He had his need pushed against your clit, along the sensitive skin, through your wetness. You cooed, writhing for him to feel inside you. He gave you one more kiss before shifting slightly to grab the backs of your knees and spread your legs wider than you had them. He pulled out a few inches and pushes back in, easing you into his thrusts before he starts picking up and every time he thrust into you, stretching you, made you crave more and more. Sweat dripping down your brow as he thrust deeper, lifting you by your knees and bending your legs towards your torso. In this position where you couldn’t move very much, he took control, finding sweetest spot with his aching need. You couldn’t stop moaning and mewling, crying out his name as he goes faster.

When your moans became louder, his big hand covered your mouth, silencing you. "Sssh, you'll wake him up, love," he whispered, finding your ear through your hair. "And I don't want our fun to end just yet." You nodded and continued to moan into his palm. He kept covering your mouth with his hand as he carried on thrusting, each one deeper than the last. He was sweating from his brow and the sweat was dripping onto your chest. He wiped the sweat with the back of his hand and pushed his hair back, but it was no avail; it swayed downwards as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss.Then you two drew back, inhaled a breath, and reconnected. Eventually he removed his hand from your mouth, he just wanted to bring you both to the climax, he didn't care about anything else at this point. Effortlessly, he threw your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders and taking you just right. He then reached around to get his fingers on your clit, rubbing relentlessly.

“Marcus” you cried, “Marcus please—”

You can barely heard him over the wet-sound of slamming against your body. “That’s right, my love. Say my name. Come for me.”

All the stimulation gets to you and you obey. You gush on his length to the point where he has to pull out and watch as you make a complete mess of the bed. The rest of your body trembling, hips thrusting on their own, and fingers clawing at sheets. You scream at this point and he has to cover your mouth again, but this time not with his hand, but with his mouth. You moan and whimper into his mouth, hoping that you have not woken the little one up.

"Look at that," he groaned, rubbing your throbbing cunt and you clenched. "Well done, my princess. You’re a good girl.”

Desperate for his need and his orgasm, you pressed your heels against his back. "Inside. Inside me, Marcus, please."

Saying your name, he suddenly plunged back in. You responded with another scream, arching your back and taking every hard thrust. His breath faltered and his moans grew louder. And... You'd just had a second orgasm, but if he kept it up, you'd have a third.

“Wish me to fill this beautiful cunt of yours up…hmm?”

“Yes,” you said between his thrusts, “Yes, my love, fill me in, Gods!”

“I will gladly grant your wish…” He snarled.

Marcus' at his loudest when he came inside you, giving you everything you want and more. As he pushed himself into you, you come again. This time there is no concern or intention to be careful not to make a loud noise. You tightened around him with every thrust, moaning with him and accepting the messy kiss he giving you. It was hard to kiss back when your breath is stolen, when every emotion hits all your nerves and you can’t think straight. He didn’t move once he gives you his last drop. A moment passes where the two of you simply catch your breath. And eventually, as a result of all this noise, the final expected happened and little Marcius began to cry.

You both looked at him, panting, and then back at each other, grinning triumphantly and mischiveously. When you feel the soreness hit, you wiggled your legs and Marcus got the hint. He carefully placed your legs back on the bed. You whimpered as he pulled out, and you could feel the mix of fluid drip out of your cunt. When Marcius started crying louder, you tried to sat up, but your most sensitive parts were throbbing a bit and your legs felt numb.

“Marcus, will you give him to me? I can’t feel my legs.”

He kissed your cheek. “Forgive me. Couldn’t help myself.”

You smiled. “Couldn’t help myself, either.”

He gave you a kiss before getting out of bed and you leaned against the headboard while you watched him tenderly take Marcius in his arms and kiss his head, caressing his little nose with his own. It was something you never got tired of watching, it was so sacred, so beautiful. Before Marcus placed him in your arms, he put a pillow behind your back and kissed the top of your head as you smiled up at him. He was rough when he made love to you, but he always blew your mind with his incredible gentleness and tenderness afterwards.

After having breakfast together in the room, you and Marcus visited the stables. You had become quite skilled at grooming lately, and it was incredibly peaceful. However, there was another reason for your visit. While you were absent-mindedly combing Unio's mane, thinking about what Hanno had said. You were having second thoughts about going to the place he mentioned. Would he have to escape again to get there? How had he ended up in Rome? How did he become a gladiator? You were startled by Marcus' touch on your waist. Unio let out a neigh as you accidentally tugged on her mane. To soothe her, you gently touched her nose and gave her a kiss.

"I see you really enjoy that, my lady," Marcus said with a warm smile.

You returned his smile. "I do. It has such a calming effect." You tapped the brush to remove the hair from its bristles.

Marcus let out a light sigh. "Well, I must admit that what I'm about to ask you to do might not be as calming." You raised your eyebrows in curiosity and narrowed your eyes when you spotted the wooden sword in his hand. "But this... it's made of wood..."

"I wouldn't hand you a sharp sword for your first lesson," he said firmly.

You placed the brush in the basket and picked up the sword, clutched it with both hands, examining. It was heavier than it looked. "It feels a bit like a toy," you murmured.

He touched yours with his wooden sword. "Rule number one: Whatever weapon you wield, you must forge an unbreakable bond with it; treat it as part of your arm.”

Your caring husband, Marcus, had quickly transformed into your stern General, Acacius.

"Yes, General," you muttered.

He smirked. "If you master this, you can begin using a real steel sword.” he encouraged you. "Remember, finding balance is essential in your early lessons."

"Balance?"

He nodded. "It's like dancing—using the right steps. Come with me; I'll show you what I mean." He took your hand and led you out of the stables, where he had taught you how to use a knife.

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty today?" you asked.

"I am, but I have time before I take my leave. Come."

When you reached the wide open space, Marcus took the wooden sword from your hand and stood in front of you.

"First, you must improve your agility. Catch it, princess!"

He tossed one of the swords towards you, but you weren't able to catch it, so it fell to the ground. “Whoa!” You bent down to pick it up. “Why did you... "It's not as if I'm planning to attack my enemy by throwing it."

He narrowed his eyes. “I see you’re feeling confident. Alright, what are you going to do with it? How will you use it? Tell me.”

"I should just stick the pointy end into my enemy, right?"

He grinned smugly. “Do you really think it’s that simple, my lady?”

You shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

He opened his arms. “Very well then, strike me.”

With both hands, you gripped the sword tightly. Suddenly, you realized it wasn't as easy as you had thought, but you were determined not to embarrass yourself in front of him. Marcus struggled to hold back his laughter at the expression on your face. Ignoring him, you raised the sword and lunged toward him. As you initiated your attack, he effortlessly pushed your sword away with a flick of his hand, barely moving his arm. You staggered backward, nearly dropping the sword.

"It’s not as easy as it seems, is it? That’s why I’m telling you to focus on your balance first. In time, you’ll understand what I mean, and when I throw it to you, it will be much easier to catch. Now, think of it as a real sword and show me how you hold it. Try again." This seemed simple, but it quickly became clear from the look on his face that I was doing something wrong. “Now you are standing wrong. Turn your body side-face, yes.”

He came over and put one hand on your waist and the other under your chin. "Just, so, yes." Then he looked at your feet. "Spread your legs."

"I can do that," you said, grinning widely, thinking about things you did in your bedroom, like how he spreads your legs in there.

Be ready to be mine...

He kissed your cheeks, where they had blushed, and your naughty thoughts were replaced by a desire.

"Focus, princess."

"Apologies. I was thinking about something..." You batted your eyelashes.

He brought his face closer to yours. "Are you trying to get away from your training by seducing me, hm?"

"Maybe I am." You giggled.

"Well, you succeeded."

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips.You let go of the sword and put your arms around his neck, and the moment you touched his hair, the inevitable thing happened again – he lost it!  He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. You let his tongue enter your mouth, and everything else in the place and the reason you were there flew away, there was only him and your warm breath through your nostrils, caressing each other's cheeks. Your hearts were beating rapidly with excitement. When you heard footsteps approaching, your lips suddenly stopped moving, breaking the kiss. Pulling himself back with some difficulty, he smiled at you, licked his lips, then turned his head in that direction.But you didn't, instead, you ran your eyes over his side view, admiring his gorgeous face.

"General!"It was Cato's voice.You pulled your hands away, but Marcus' hands were still around your waist.

"Cato, is something wrong?”

"I've been informed the Council is meeting today, sir. And Emperor Geta said he'd like to see you there during the session." Then he looked at you. "You too, my lady."

You frowned.

"Thank you Cato, get the carriage ready then."

"There's no need," you said firmly. "I’d better not attend."

Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Do you have other plans, my lady?"

You looked away. "It’s an official council meeting. I don’t think there’s any need to disturb the Senate members with the presence of a woman. Besides, I planned to visit my cousin Paulina today."

For some reason, your tone sounded so convincing that it even surprised you.

"Is that so? You didn't mention that," Marcus said.

"I was going to..." you lied, feeling a wave of self-hatred wash over you.

Marcus's eyes weren't skeptical as they roamed over your face. "Well, I think it's better that you're there than at the council."

"I agree. Come, let me help you dress appropriately," you replied, grabbing his arm. He smiled, allowing you to pull him inside.

After Marcus left the villa with Cato, you made your decision to meet Hanno. You nursed Marcius and handed him over to Norell, then went up to your chambers to get dressed. It was almost noon by this time. Everyone in the villa believed you were going to visit your cousin, including Decima, who accompanied you in the carriage. However, when the carriage was halfway to its destination, you ordered the driver to take you through the streets of Rome instead. You put on your cloak, ignoring Decima, who looked at you in astonishment.

“I thought we were going to your aunt Antonia’s house?” 

“No, we’re not.” 

She opened her eyes wide. “Are we going to stalk the general again?” 

You glared at her. “No, of course not.” 

“Then where are we going?” 

You tied the laces of your cloak and replied, “Decima, trust me and don’t ask questions. I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Stop the carriage!” 

The coachman obeyed your command and halted the carriage on the east side of the Colosseum. The gladiator school was on its left, and the popina was at the corner of the street. 

“There are no houses or shops here,” she muttered. 

“I know,” you said, pulling the hood over your face and stepping out of the carriage. Decima stood up as well, but you stopped her. 

“I’ll go alone.” 

“But Aurelia—” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I won’t be long, and Decima, this is between us, alright?”

She nodded. “Fine, but please be careful.”

“I will be,” you replied with a smile and began walking into the crowd. You weren’t wearing much jewelry; the last thing you wanted was for someone to realize you were their princess.

The street was less crowded than you had expected. Many people were discussing today’s council meeting and moving at a brisk pace toward the Roman Forum. Perhaps most people had gathered there, which would work to your advantage. When a group of passersby glanced your way, you quickly turned your head.

“Did you hear that General Acacius is attending too?” one person said.

“Yes, I wonder if the princess will be there,” another replied.

“We’re going there to see her anyway,” one continued.

“I think she will definitely attend,” another added.

“I’ll finally get to see her up close,” someone else said.

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly.

After passing through a few more people, you looked around. You were now passing the gladiator school, and you shuddered as you remembered how you had last been imprisoned there. Then you thought of Hanno—how did he end up here? It was just one of a thousand questions you wanted to ask him. You quickened your pace, and when you saw the popina’s signboard, your heart began to race with anxiety.

The harmonious music, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and conversation from within, extended into the street, fostering an inviting atmosphere but not for everyone, apparently.

Please don't let anyone recognize me. Please don't let anyone recognize me.

You pushed open the double-leaf door. The people standing nearby turned their heads to see who was coming in, but they couldn't see your face and soon returned to their chat. One person glanced at you with curiosity but quickly looked away. Suddenly, the music stopped, and you froze, but it had nothing to do with your entrance—it was just a coincidence.

Soon, the music began again. You took a deep breath of relief and moved forward, scanning the tables one by one. You noticed a man in a black cloak sitting alone in the corner. You moved there and tilted your head to see his face, but first, you glanced around to ensure no one else was sitting alone. It must have been him. You leaned toward him and whispered, “Hanno?"

You were so startled when the man looked up at you that you jumped back. A bulky man with numerous scars on his face scrutinized you and then raised his eyebrows with a low curse. “Am I high already?” he asked himself.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought you were someone else,” you stammered.

He grinned widely, showing all his teeth. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, beautiful.”

Just as you were about to turn away, his large hand grabbed your wrist. “Come on, sit down and have a drink with me—just one drink.” He pulled you toward the chair.

Was he drunk? At this time of day?

You struggled to free your arm, but you couldn’t even budge it. “Let go of my arm!”

“Come now, don’t be stubborn. A beauty like you doesn’t come along every day.”

“Look, I’m a married woman, and you wouldn’t even want to know who my husband is.”

He frowned.

“Let her go!”

You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice. Hanno had pushed the man's arm away. “Damn it, Aldhard, didn’t I tell you not to drink after the opium?”

You crossed your arms. “So you two know each other?”

Hanno rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask.”

The man stood up and looked at both of you. “You little shit. You never told me you had such a beautiful friend. So that’s why you’re always running away, huh?”

“Go back and get some rest. You can’t go out in the arena tomorrow like this.”

The man huffed as he turned to walk away. “That’s why I’m drinking, you bastard.” He left, muttering curses in his native language that you had never heard before.

Hanno turned to you. “Forgive me for being late. But it’s hard to get out of there.”

You sat down in a chair and exhaled deeply. “Hanno, it’s strange to see you here after all this time. Especially as a gladiator.”

He settled into the chair where his friend had just been sitting. “It’s quite the story,” he said, raising his arm to catch the keeper’s attention. “I’m surprised you came, you know.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you replied.

“I guess you came secretly from your husband.” He smiled crookedly.

“I came secretly from everyone. You know why.”

"Yes, I was quite surprised to hear that. I can't believe you're a princess. I always knew you were special, but..."

A little later, a young man brought you a jug of wine and two glasses, along with a platter of chicken for two.

"The chicken here is really good. Come on, eat,” he said, spooning some onto his plate, opening his mouth wide, and starting to eat with appetite.

You reminisced about the meals you had shared together in the tavern back in Egypt.

“Forget about me and tell me about yourself,” you said as you dipped your spoon into the food. “How did you get to Rome? How did you become a gladiator, and where have you been all this time?” You brought the spoon to your mouth, not because you were hungry, but because the smell was enticing, and you wanted to taste it.

He didn’t look at you and continued to eat. “I was brought here by your husband.”

You nearly choked on your morsel, coughed, and sipped your wine. “What did you say?”

“As a prisoner of war.”

“Or did you fight alongside the Persian army against Rome?” Your voice was louder than you intended, causing nearby people to turn their heads. Hanno glared at them, and they quickly looked away.

“Hanno, what happened? Tell me everything.”

His blue eyes clouded, and his expression hardened. “Alright. That night…” He took a deep breath. “I mean, the night the rebels raided the Roman military camp. By the time I got there, they had taken all the Medici from the Valetudinarium.”

“Oh, right. Where were you that night?”

“I heard one of my friends was injured during the revolt, so I decided to go help him. When I entered the room to tell him I was leaving, Vicius mentioned that you were asleep. That turned out to be the last time I saw both you and him." He took a sip of his drink, looking gloomy. "The next day, Vicius' body was brought to the Valetudinarium along with the other Medicii. I personally took care of his funeral, all of his friends were deeply saddened. However, what was even more haunting was what they said. They claimed they saw you among the prisoners. They had killed him, and not only that, but they had also taken you as a prisoner. I was so angry that I ran to the harbor, but I couldn't catch up. The Roman ships had already sailed out to sea, just about to disappear over the horizon."

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled that night.

"I apologize for not coming here sooner. My mother was sick, and I was occupied with her treatment, but I couldn’t save her. There were also many other patients to care for. Vicious was a skilled medicus; he was irreplaceable."

“Hanno, I'm sorry.”

“Aya, or Aurelia,” he said with a sad grin. “Why did you marry him? How did it happen?”

“Hanno, look…”

He interrupted, “After what happened to Vicius, all I could think about was coming here, finding you, and running away with you. I was certain you would be sold into slavery, and I couldn't sleep at night knowing you might be living a terrible life.”

“I wasn’t, actually. I love him, Hanno. He’s my life now. "We were planning to come here with Vicius, and now you know the specific reason why.”

“So, it turns out you and Vicius had a secret, huh?” He laughed. “All that time you were hiding in the Valetudinarium, trying hard to pass as a man, never going out in public, and his overprotectiveness toward you… I mean, it was obvious there was a reason, but I never expected you to be a Roman princess. I don't know what to say.”

“I found out when I came here, but how did you know I was married to the general?”

“Last week, I saw the two of you at the temple. People are always talking about you two. That day, they made us put on a little fighting demonstration at the Roman Forum. Honestly, I had a hard time recognizing you at first; you looked quite different from before.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“I doubt that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're different; you've changed. Maybe your experiences have altered you, just like they have for me.”

“Why did you fight with the Roman army? You're not a soldier.”

“They needed a medicus and promised high payment. And you think I can't fight or something? Have you forgotten how many times I saved you from those filthy rats? They kept saying you were a scrawny young man and forced you to fight with them. Don’t you remember how I beat them up, girl?”

You laughed. “Yes, I remember.”

“Fighting against Roman soldiers seemed tempting to me. They said the rebels had joined forces with a small army in Syria organized by a Roman consul.”

“Macrinus?”

“No idea. I've never met him.”

“You can't. He's dead.”

“I bet your husband killed him, great Roman general.” He said mockingly.

You frowned and said, “Please don't talk about him like that. He's the bravest, most honorable man I know, and he's not as bad as you think. He’s also kind and understanding.”

“How touching. He wasn’t so innocent when he slaughtered hundreds on the battlefield, you know. He was like a beast.”

“It’s called war. What did you expect him to do? That’s what you did too—you fought and killed people, didn’t you? Besides, Vicius was killed by one of his soldiers, and he avenged him by killing that soldier in return.”

“But he took you prisoner—made you a slave.”

“He didn’t know who I was.”

Suddenly, he was distracted by the loud laughter of the women at the next table. You both turned your heads to look in that direction. Hanno reached towards you and pulled your hood more in front of your face.

“Don’t stare at them; we’ll get in trouble if they recognize you. And the ones sitting right behind us? They’re Spaniards. Believe me, they hate the Romans as much as I do. So whatever you do, don’t attract their attention.”

You didn't even want to ask why, but it was clear that the men and women were romantically involved, and the Spaniards seemed to be quite fierce characters. Suddenly, you realized that coming here might not have been such a good idea.

“Hanno, who bought you? If I talk to your master, maybe I can persuade him to set you free.”

He laughed. “I’m not a Roman, but I know that’s not how it works here. Tomorrow, I must fight in the Colosseum and win. That will bring me one step closer to my freedom.”

Your chest suddenly tightened. “But the Colosseum is too dangerous.”

“Are you worried about me?” he grinned. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”

“I’ll talk to my brother. I don’t know; there must be a way.”

He laughed hysterically. “Your brother? You mean the emperor? It’s not like he’s going to care about me. I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about him.”

“He’s changed. He’s an emperor who cares about his people now.”

“Is he now?”

“Tell me his name. Who bought you?”

“Aya,” he growled.

“Tell me.”

“What will your husband say if you buy me?”

That was the real question. You sighed nervously.

“That’s what I thought.”

He raised his glass to his lips and drank it all.

Then he looked back over your shoulder. “Shit.”

“What the—”

“When I say so, we’ll run outside together, alright?”

“What? Why?”

“They realized I escaped. Again.”

"But why am I running? You're the one they're looking for." 

"It's him! Stop right there!" 

You stood up and looked over. It was the same guys from last time; they knew who you were. You tensed and took a step back, but suddenly you realized someone was touching you on your hips. In a fit of rage, you turned around and hurled his drink in his face.

"Do you think I'm a whore, you filthy bastard?" 

As the man angrily wiped the wine from his face, you immediately regretted what you had done. When he stood up, the others did too. “Jódete, maldita perra (Fuck you, stupid whore)!”

“Watch your mouth, cabrón!” Hano yelled.

Your eyes and mouth widened when the men drew their swords, and you instinctively hid behind Hanno.

"I suppose you have a reason to run now," Hanno whispered to you.

One of the men who had come to take Hanno held up a hand to stop them.

"Return to your table now," he ordered.

“Do not tell me what to do, maricón!”

“What did you say?” He drew his sword.

“He said arsehole to you,” Hanno translated with a grin.

“Damn Spinards, I shall cut your tongue!”

Hanno seized the opportunity amidst the chaos and pushed him onto the other man, causing both of them to collapse to the floor. The impact knocked over a table, spilling drinks and food everywhere and creating quite a mess. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, and everyone began to fight with one another. Hanno grabbed your arm and shouted, “Time to run!" He pulled you along as you both fled the scene.

When you got out into the street, you kept running faster, because the other men kept running after you.

“So you can speak spanish!” you shouted as you ran alongside him, your eyes scanning for the carriage.

“Only swear words!” he replied.

“Ugh! I hate you!”

“I’m not the one who spilled his drink all over his face!”

“You're the one swearing at them!”

The guys chasing after you were shouting something in spanish, and it was not hard to guess what they were saying.

“Aren’t you a gladiator? Can’t you fight them off?”

He laughed nervously. “I don’t think you realize how many there are.”

You looked back, and your eyes widened when you saw at least ten people.

“Where the hell did they come from?”

“I warned you about Spaniards! They are overprotective!”

“The carriage is just over there!” You said, pointing east of the Colosseum. “If we can get there-“

“No, not the carriage! They'll catch us before we get on!”

“What are we going to do?”

“I know a safe place; if I hide you there, I can escape them myself.”

When you looked back, they were still running insistently. Desperately, you searched for the carriage, realizing you had no choice but to follow Hanno. Fortunately, you soon reached the place he had mentioned. It was the barn of a house.

“The owner is old and deaf; he doesn’t come to the barn much,” Hanno said as he removed hay bales one by one to create a hiding spot for you. “Come, you’ll be safe here.”

“But for how long? What will you do?”

“I'm going to make them follow me down the road and I'm going to grab a sword from one of them and fight them. After I get them away from here, you run to your carriage, alright?”

You nodded. “Be careful.”

He smiled and looked back as the voices drew closer. "Hide well," he said before leaving the barn. You could hear his footsteps followed by those of his pursuers. You waited patiently until all the sounds faded away. Soon, the only noise was the gentle bleating of the lambs.

Standing up, you began to push the hay bales aside one by one. The smell was almost unbearable; if you were pregnant like before, you would have been violently sick. You brushed the straw out of your hair with your hands. Your legs ached from running, but you knew you had to reach the carriage no matter what.

You slowly stepped into the courtyard of the house, observing your surroundings. Fortunately, no one was in sight, except for the chickens, which, frightened by your presence, scattered away. The street was quiet, with just a few people who looked at you with curiosity, but you were too exhausted to care. After walking a bit further, you realized that you were very close to the street where the carriage was located, so you picked up your pace and walked there with relief.

Decima asked you questions along the way that you struggled to answer, and you responded as simply as possible. However, your real fear was what you would face when you got home—your clothes and everything else were a complete mess. You needed to get home before Marcus arrived. You couldn't help but worry about Hanno. Would he be able to fight those guys off? Would he be able to save himself? You had known him well since childhood, and you shared many memories together that were impossible to forget. No one could have predicted that things would turn out this way; it felt like a cruel twist of fate.

When you arrived at the villa, it was already evening. You and Decima got out of the carriage and walked into the courtyard. As soon as you stepped inside, you froze. Marcus was standing in the center, still wearing his formal white toga. He struggled to drape the shawl over his shoulder, as he didn't often wear this type of toga. However, the stern and confused expression on his face wasn't due to this difficulty; it was because he saw you with your clothes in disarray.

"Leave us alone," he said sharply, his gaze fixed on you. There was no one else around; he had directed that command at Decima. You bit your lip as she left the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone. He stepped towards you, inspecting you from head to toe so quietly that you wondered if he was trying to suppress his anger. Finally, he exhaled a deep, ragged breath, his dark brown eyes boring into yours.

"Where have you been?" he asked in a deep, almost growling voice. "I need an explanation right now."

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[strawchocoberry]

‘CAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. heavily self-insert/mindy lore, kaiser’s birthday present, fluff interlaced with angst, slow, intimate sex at the end 

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. how much he means to you — word count. 2.4k

December 25th. 

And while the rest of the world is exhilarated, celebrating Christmas, for Kaiser today is just another day. Maybe one with more happiness and whatever is supposed to be this so-called ‘Christmas spirit,’ but still it’s just another day. 

You don’t even realise when Kaiser has left your bed. You wake up disoriented and alone in your bed, faint traces of him sleeping next to you lingering in the room. You take a deep breath and steel yourself. 

It was pure coincidence you found out that today is his birthday. Knowing him, he will just want to spend the day with you, give you your Christmas gift and maybe go out for a little stroll. Not even mentioning that today is his birthday, not even a small hint or anything. Even so, you want to make this day a little bit special for him. But you know you have to be careful and subtle about it, otherwise Kaiser might either explode or isolate himself from you. 

The day officially starts when he returns from the private gym of your apartment building. For all his grumbling about being too much of an unnecessary hassle to decorate the apartment, Kaiser has to take a moment to admire how beautiful this morning is, watching you, unaware of his presence, setting up breakfast on the coffee table next to the tree you had decorated together. So many new things you “forced” him to do, things he somehow found enjoyable. But only because he did them with you. 

The day passes by before you realise it. Despite your protests, Kaiser has bought you one gift, insisting that it’s from Santa, though he himself never believed in the guy. He doesn’t want a gift from you, your beautiful smile as he insists on you opening your gift is all he needs. He had wanted to buy you more gifts. In fact, he was planning on making you a tower the size of your Christmas tree made of gifts. But you had insisted on not wanting any gifts, so he searched high and low to find the perfect gift, something small and personal, something you wouldn’t be able to refuse. 

Unwrapping his gift, your eyes widen at the beautiful ring with a sapphire blue gem curved in the shape of a rose. You’re truly left speechless, admiring the craftsmanship of the ring. Kaiser, sitting on the floor next to you, props his elbow on his knee, leaning against his hand, and observes you with a small smile on his lips. That’s exactly how he had imagined your reaction. 

“You always tell me how much you like your reflection in my eyes, so I thought you could look at this ring and maybe think of me when I’m away,” he says simply, though his heart is beating so fast, Kaiser thinks it might burst. He realises he’s feeling anxious. Anxious that you might reject his gift. The thought alone is enough to make him want to kill himself. 

You surprise him before he spirals down in a loop of self-destructive thoughts by softly saying, “It’s perfect, thank you, my love.” He doesn’t have the time to say anything as you press your lips to his in a slow, intimate kiss that clears the fog from his mind. Kaiser lets himself fall under your spell, pulling you closer to him and getting lost in the overwhelming feelings you pour in your kiss. 

Kaiser doesn’t realise when you carefully pull a necklace out of your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, clasping the necklace around his neck. When he pulls back, he looks down, taking in the blue rose pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes shoot up to meet yours and before he opens his mouth, you shut him up with another kiss. 

“You don’t need to force yourself to look happy or grateful right now,” you whisper against his lips when you pull slightly back, your eyes locking with his. “You can throw this pendant away right now if you want. But I thought you deserved a gift too today.” You pause, your eyes searching his, trying to gauge his reaction. But his expression is unreadable, even to you. “I just didn’t want to be the only one receiving a gift today,” you say with a small laugh, hinting how you knew he would definitely get you something. 

Kaiser is silent for a long moment. Usually, the pendant would feel like a noose choking him, but it doesn’t. Because it came from you. And he can tell you put great thought into this gift and you needed even greater courage to give it to him, knowing he would probably reject it. He’s in a loss for words, a foreign feeling blooming deep inside him. He only nods as a sign of acknowledging your words and gift, but neither thanks you nor takes the necklace off. Instead, he leans in for another kiss. 

The rest of the day passes by in a flash. The two of you spend your time together, going on strolls on the park nearby with hot chocolates in hand and later retrieving to your home for more private moments, watching Christmas movies while cuddling in bed together. You haven’t mentioned anything about Kaiser’s birthday yet, not having yet understood how he feels about your earlier gift. 

Kaiser hasn’t even thought of taking the necklace off. Whenever you’re focused on something else, he absent-mindedly touches it. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s definitely strange for him. He hates receiving gifts, hates to be forced to be grateful for things he didn’t ask. But something about the way you presented your gift and how you didn’t expect him to thank you, it struck a chord in him. 

When the movie ends, the sun has already set outside. You carefully untangle yourself from his embrace, muttering to him to stay put. Kaiser quirks an eyebrow as he watches you leave the room, only to return a while later holding a white thick notebook with blue and red roses scattered all over its cover and back in your hands. You get back on the bed and sit next to him, hesitating before giving him the notebook. 

“What’s this?” Kaiser asks curiously. 

Your heart is pounding hard against your chest. “Read it,” you say softly, though your voice wavers just a bit, just enough to betray how nervous you’re feeling. 

Kaiser notices your nervousness, but doesn’t push you to reveal the reason behind it. Instead, he turns his attention to the notebook. Flipping it open on the first page, his eyes instantly widen, reading the date; the date the two of you met. He reads through the first few lines, before turning to look at you with one of his cocky smirks. 

“‘Today, I met the most arrogant bastard on earth,’” he reads what you’ve written. “‘God, I hope I never see him again. He was truly insufferable. Sure, he may be handsome and a star football player, but his personality sucks.’” Kaiser leans closer to your face, his smirk still intact. “So, I’m an insufferable, arrogant, handsome bastard, huh?”

“You are,” you respond, a spark of defiance igniting through your anxiety. “But now I’m better at handling your cocky imperial ass.” 

“Is that so?” he questions. He goes back to reading the entries in the notebook. Not five minutes later, he closes it, frowning as he turns to look at you. “Are you seriously having me read how much you hated me when we first met?” 

You can’t suppress a small laugh. You pull him against you, the back of his head resting against your chest, your fingers threading through his soft hair, as your chin sits gently on top of his head. “Just shut up and continue reading,” you whisper affectionately. 

Kaiser, ever observant, doesn’t miss the slight tension in your body. Instead of addressing that though, he goes back to reading the notebook you gave him. As expected, the first few pages are filled with you complaining about him being a complete dick back when you first met. But slowly, he notices the change in your attitude, in the way you wrote about him, about the two of you. He watches through your words how you slowly fell in love with him, way earlier than you admitted it to him. 

The pages transform in front of him the more he reads. As your relationship progresses, it’s not just your thoughts that fill the blank pages. The handwritten notes he had written for you, bookmarks of flowers from bouquets he had given you, receipts from places you had visited together and other little memoirs all glued to the pages next to small entries about how you felt for each and every one and how even his smallest gestures made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

None of you realise how much time has passed. At the beginning, Kaiser occasionally commented on things you had written, but the more he read, the more he immersed himself in this small world on paper you had created, the more silent he grew. And when he reaches the last entry, the one you wrote at midnight last night, you’re holding back your breath, your hands stopping their soothing motion in his hair. But he’s too lost in the words inked on the white page to notice that or the way you’re biting your lip hard, trying to stifle a sob or how fast your heart is beating against your chest. 

December 25th 

It’s currently midnight and you’re grumbling about how I’m writing something and not paying attention to you. My blue rose emperor is always demanding my attention. I just hope that now, a couple hours later, that you’re reading this notebook you’ve stopped grumbling. 

I know you think nothing of this day, but I wanted to make it a little bit special for you. I love you, Michael. I loved you yesterday. I love you today. And I’ll love you tomorrow too. You’re my greatest gift and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always know that. 

Happy Birthday, Michael ♡ 

Kaiser slowly closes the notebook, leaving it on the nightstand. He doesn’t move away from you, but he remains silent for a long time. You can practically see the gears shifting inside his head as he’s processing everything. 

‘Happy Birthday,’ you wrote. Right, today is Kaiser’s birthday. After all these years, he had completely forgotten about it. He never told you, because it doesn’t matter to him. And yet somehow you found out nonetheless. And you even wanted to give him a gift, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him, knowing he hates surprises and gifts. Your thoughtfulness touches him greatly. 

He slowly turns in your embrace, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your body tightly. “Michael?” you call out his name softly. But Kaiser doesn’t respond.

And then you feel it; tears soaking your blouse and his body shaking with his sobs. For a fraction of a second you’re stunned, before your arms hold him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back. A tear slips down your cheek and a soft smile curls up your lips. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head, softly murmuring, “I love you, Michael.” 

Kaiser looks up at you, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears. He adjusts his position, leaning closer to you and cupping your cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs caressing your soft skin. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as if afraid to break this vulnerable moment between you. “I could have never asked for a better gift than you.” 

His lips capture yours in a slow kiss, one filled with all the emotions and feelings he cannot convey with words. He’s overwhelming you in a whole different way than he usually does, making you get drunk on him. Kaiser slowly removes both your clothes until your bare bodies dance together in the sheets. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips. He kisses you, leaving you confused about his apology, but you realise what he meant when you feel him thrust slowly inside you, a slight discomfort spreading through your body at the lack of foreplay, but you don’t mind. You need to feel him as much as he does. 

Even so, you can’t help but tease, “Impatient bastard.” The smile on your lips betrays how you couldn’t wait either. 

Kaiser smirks, burying his face in the crook of your neck and peppering your neck with kisses and love marks. He doesn’t move, not yet, giving you time to adjust. Though the way your pussy tightens around his cock makes him groan slightly, barely holding himself back. He leans back to look at you, supporting himself on his elbows, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks. 

“But you love me,” Kaiser whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his voice and his eyes. It’s not a statement, rather him trying to convince himself that it’s true. That what you have is as real for you as it is for him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck gently, pulling him closer to you with a rare smile on your lips, one you reserve only for him. “I love you,” you whisper back and seal your words with a kiss, making every lingering doubt in his mind dissipate into nothing. 

You feel Kaiser slowly start thrusting inside you, wanting both of you to feel every second of this moment. Between kisses and moans, he keeps murmuring how much he loves you and how much you mean to him, his love pouring inside you with each deliberate thrust. He’s consuming you, but simultaneously you’re consuming him. 

“I feel like I’m stuck in a loop,” he confesses in a low voice, his words barely reaching your ears. He interlaces your fingers, holding your hand against the mattress, as he makes love to you. 

You’re so full of him, you’re at a loss for words. For a moment, you don’t know what he’s thinking, but as his body moulds against yours, you know there’s no other place you’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.  

“I don’t know what to do,” Kaiser whispers affectionately against your lips. “‘Cause I fell in love with you.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, plagiarise, translate or reuse my work

[hopcneverdies]

“am i?” hans asked with a quirk of an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips in a welcome challenge. he didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, but he liked it. he liked thinking about all the different ways he could spoil june—liked the fact that he could. “maybe i’m just talking a big game right now, but just you wait.” he laughed despite himself, carding his fingers through his hair as a familiar habit. 

there were only a handful of other kids now, their parents fixing their coats and making sure they got everything they needed to get home. hans gave the other parents a smile as he went the opposite way, inside of the room instead of out, sunny in tow and excited to share her works of art. he followed june diligently, his eyes trained on the back of his head, as if even his hair was worth memorizing, the fall of each tendril more exciting than anything hans had ever seen before. 

when they finally reached the cubbies and june looked through sunny’s, hans couldn’t help but crane his neck to take a peek over june’s shoulders, curious about this little collection of stuff that belonged to his daughter. he knew everything she had back at home, could probably pinpoint where she last put down a toy she was looking for hours later, but here in this classroom, sunny and june had things like these, pieces of art and pieces of their life that hans would wait patiently to see at the end of each day. 

he took the drawing june held out, lifting it carefully and looking at it properly. sunny was beside him, her head held high, proud of what she had done. hans could see what june meant—the good grasp of color was there, the flower drawing turning out to be much more constructed than what hans had imagined. “wow, sunny bear, you did great,” he said fondly, reaching out to give her a gentle squeeze. “it must be all the flowers she sees in the shop,” he said to june this time, his eyes still trained on the artwork his daughter had made. “i think we might have an artist on our hands.” 

hans held the drawing for a few more minutes, letting this moment of appreciation for sunny’s art drag on, and letting the quiet emptiness of the room settle over them. there was no need to lower their voices anymore, hans could talk to june like he wanted to, with no worries that other parents might overhear. this was how their day would end starting today, with the three of them together as their days came to an end, celebrating the small victories of the day.

he looked up at june still holding the flowers he had given him, and he knew there was nothing that could stop him from pursuing this now. he smiled warmly at him, his gaze soft and fond, and all together expressing what he couldn’t say in words. 

after a few more moments, he finally broke the silence, handing back the drawing to june. “are you ready for dinner?” 

june couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him as hans lowered his voice to promise more spoiling. it was such a quiet, intimate gesture, but it carried a weight that made june’s chest feel tight in the best way. “hope you know you’re really setting a high bar for yourself,” he replied softly, shaking his head with a smile that barely masked the flutter of his heart.

his gaze fell briefly to sunny, her tiny hand nestled in hans’, the picture of warmth and trust. it was a simple moment but one that stirred something deep inside him — an ache that wasn’t painful, a yearning that wasn’t desperate. this was what stability looked like, and june was still learning how to let himself be part of it.

when hans asked about seeing sunny’s work, june’s smile grew, and he looked at toward the art cubbies near the back of the room. “actually, i think we can make time for that. her flower drawing turned out beautifully. she’s got a great sense of color for her age — definitely takes after someone i know.” he shot hans a playful glance before making his way to the cubbies, the bouquet still tucked securely in the crook of his arm.

the classroom had quieted significantly, the hum of conversation and footsteps fading as most parents filtered out with their children. june found sunny’s cubby easily, pulling out a stack of papers and flipping through them until he found her drawing. carefully, he returned to hans and sunny, holding the picture up for them to see. “here it is,” he said, holding it out for hans to take, his gaze settling back on the man standing across from him.

[runninriot]

A Christmas Wish Come True

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 25

prompt: Christmas | rated: G | wc: 1.000 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, found family, strangers to lovers

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+ bonus epilogue)

“So, wanna tell me about your little side gig as grandpa, Wayne?”

It was meant as a joke but his voice sounds angrier than he intended and it makes Eddie instantly feel bad.

   “I’m sorry. It’s just- why haven’t you told me?”

   “Look, that kid, Robbie, she only has her dad. And Steve is doing his best raising her all alone but- you know how me met? I’d just gotten off work, drove by his house and saw him sitting there on the front porch, looking like he was two seconds away from a mental breakdown. That man was a mess and he needed someone to take him by the hand. So, I reached out mine and he took it.”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, a habit he always has when he’s deep in thoughts.

   “I wanted to tell ya, I just didn’t find the right moment. And I was a little worried you’d have a problem with it. I know you had a thing for that boy back in high school and I didn’t know if you guys had ever been... close, so-“

   “No, no! Back up, Wayne. What?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s not like he ever had to hide the fact that he likes guys – Wayne always knew, always accepted Eddie for all he is. But never, not once, did he mention his stupid infatuation with Steve. There’s no fucking way his uncle knew.

   “Oh, don’t act so surprised. Every single piece of paper lying around your mess of a room had a little heart with Steve’s name on it.”

    Oh, right.

   “Okay, I give you that but why would you think we’ve been like, together? Even you must see how ridiculous that is. Have you looked at the man?”

Eddie bites his tongue before he says something like ‘He’s way too perfect to be with someone like me’. Wayne doesn’t need to know that he’s still got heart eyes for Steve and he already said too much.

   “Yeah, I saw. I also heard how he talked about you. How he got all soft when he talked about all the mischief you were up to in high school. That cost me all my hair by the way, so thanks for that.”

Wayne laughs and Eddie would too, if he wasn’t so confused right now.

   “Whether you knew it or not, that boy liked you. And seeing you two today, I’m pretty sure you still have that in common. You are both so bad at hiding it.”

Their conversation did not mess Eddie up. It didn't, okay? And he's definitely not nervous when he opens the door for Steve and Robbie to come in, right on time for Christmas dinner.

It doesn't make him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin when Steve takes the seat next to him, so close their knees occasionally touch.

And it doesn't cause a full-body shiver when their hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same bread.

It's fine. Everything is fine. Wayne doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing between them. No sparks, no fire, no longing glances. They’re just two small families celebrating Christmas together. Nothing more.

That's why, when Eddie excuses himself to have a smoke outside after dinner, and Steve follows him, he doesn't think much of it.

But of course, reality always comes crashing in. And when Steve huddles closer, stands right next to him, sharing his cigarette like that’s normal, Eddie can’t take it anymore.

   “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, trying hard to control the tremble in his voice.

   “Wayne thought you and I were, you know, a thing in high school. That’s why he didn’t tell me about meeting you.”

Eddie laughs but it sounds fake, and for a long moment, all Steve does is look at him, eyes piercing like they’re trying to see into Eddie’s soul.

   “Mhm, very funny,” he then says but doesn't sound amused at all.

   “No, it really is, because I had the biggest crush on you back then."

Eddie swallows, looks, waits. Doesn't know what for because it feels like anything could happen.

   "Had?" It almost sounds like a tease but Eddie can sense that Steve's nervous.

   "Would it be bad if it was still true?" Eddie asks, unsure of where this is going.

   "Depends.” Steve answers, a tentative smile on his lips, “Would it be bad if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Eddie isn't sure if he's still breathing and if his heart's still beating because the world is spinning too fast and-

His lips are on Steve's, testing, pressing, and there are hands in his hair, and the night becomes day, and everything feels right, feels good, feels like something finally clicks into place.

They kiss until their lungs hurt, kiss some more after a giggle fit. Kiss again until the door opens and Robbie is standing before them with wide eyes.

   "Oh, sh-oot! Hey, baby! Sorry, Eddie and I were just-"

   "Thank you, Santa!" Robbie yells against the sky and Eddie's heart explodes.

The worry on Steve's face makes way for confusion and Eddie feels bad for cheating because contrary to Steve, he's in on Robbie's secret.

   "Grandpa Wayne said to tell you we're having hot chocolate and cookies for dessert."

   "We'll be right there," Eddie answers for Steve, who still seems a little frozen in place.

Once the door closes behind her, Steve releases a shaky breath.

   "That- did not go like I thought it would."

For a moment, Eddie worries Steve's going to take it back. That the shock broke him out of whatever spell he was under.

But Steve kisses him again, before taking his hand to lead them back inside, where Wayne greets them with a smug smile. Eddie can practically hear the 'I told you so' but that's okay.

He's happy Wayne was right.

Happy that a little girl's wish aligned so perfectly with his own.

A Christmas wish come true.

[howlingday]

I freaking love alabastards so much! Its like vol 1 Weiss and Jaune who got tired of taking shit for being too nice!

I so need more!

Would it be too much to ask for Alabastards on winter break or something?

"Hello, Arc."

"Weiss."

"How is your winter break?"

"Good. Yours?"

"My winter break is also going well." Weiss turned away. "Not that you'd know anything about proper grammar anyways."

"Oh, really? Is that because I'm too poor to talk good, or is it because you're so bad at being a good person you have to make up for it?"

"Bite me, Arc."

"Make me, Schnee."

The two sneered at each other until they noticed they were getting looks from their teams. Reeling back, the two parted. How and why the two were always found at odds, no one was truly certain. Maybe one had said something to offend the other, or perhaps there was a meeting they had before Beacon that soured their relationship long before it could begin? It was difficult to say.

Regardless, today was Non-Descript Winter Holiday and the two had promised to bury the hatchet, if only for the day. Weiss had bought gifts for each of her friends on Team JNPR, and Jaune, while Jaune used his skills to craft personal gifts for his friends on Team RWBY, and Weiss. As the two sat down with their friends, gifts were exchanged between each of them.

Weiss gifted Pyrrha jacket with a liner, both skillfully embroidered with her name. Nora got a quirky device that allowed her poor syrup through a glass tube onto her pancakes, like some kind of breakfast alchemist. Ren received a new apron to wear should his other need to be washed, this one featuring the words "I'm Not On The Menu". Jaune didn't open his gift.

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Excuse me?"

"Knowing you, you probably put a cheap gag gift in here to spite me."

"Do you really think so low of me?"

"Do you?"

"...Fine. Then I refuse to open mine."

"Fine by me."

The rest of the party sighed, choosing to move on to other gifts. Jaune's gifts were hand-crafted with love... or friendship, if love was too much of a stretch. Yang got a bag for her boxing gloves that had "Chorld Wamp" stitched into them, making her giggle. Blake was given a couple sheets of paper with personal poems written front and back, some in haiku. Ruby got a coffee mug cozy, yarned and darned with black and red. Weiss, much like Jaune, refused to open hers.

"I don't care."

"Neither do I."

"I'll just open mine later."

"Or never." She scowled at her gift in disgust. "Knowing you, you probably put something disgusting in here, like a photo of yourself."

"Ha ha." Jaune groaned, standing up. "I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings by not opening your shitty gift?"

"No, I'm just tired. Not everything is about you, Weiss." Before Weiss could retort, Jaune had already left out of the room, gift in hand.

"Weiss, that was really mean." Ruby whined.

"Very mean." Pyrrha added. "You were both supposed to not be hostile this evening."

"Why am I the bad guy?" Weiss gestured to where her foe made his exit. "He was ruder than I ever was!"

"You were both rude." Yang answered, pointing a finger at the heiress. "You both promised to play nice during winter break, and you both broke that promise on the most important day of the entire break. You ruined it for everyone."

"I did not ruin Non-Decript Winter Holiday." Weiss rolled her eyes. "He ruined it."

"I'm gonna hit her." Nora said.

"Please don't." Ren replied.

"The least you could do is open his gift." Blake offered.

"It it'll make you guys feel better, then fine!" Weiss opened her present. "But do you really think anything he got me will make me say... Oh my god..."

--------------------------------------------------

Jaune held his present in his hand, fully unwrapped and, begrudgingly, impressed. Inside the box was a camera. High quality, too. He fiddled with the buttons, the zoom, the lighting, the timer. Everything was so smooth and easy to play with. He didn't want to admit, but this was probably the best gift he'd ever.

"Jaune, open up." Jaune looked up to the knocking at his door. Opening it, he found Weiss holding his gift to her. "What the hell is this?"

"Your present." Jaune answered, making Weiss scowl.

"You know what I meant." She shoved past him and set the binder on his desk, pushing the gift box to the side. The binder was pure white and decorated with a single sticker of Beacon Tower, something purchased in the school store as a memento. Opening the binder and flipping through the pages, each of which were decorated with printed photos from Jaune's scroll. "You have every single person we've known in this binder."

"Yeah?" Jaune said with a raised brow. "That's how photo albums work, don't they?"

"Everyone we've known EXCEPT for the two of us! Why?"

Jaune blinked, looking at her like she'd suddenly turned into a creature of Grimm. "Because you hate me?"

"I don't- I never-" She groaned. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I hate you."

"No," Jaune agreed, "but you insulting me at every turn and being an overall bitch to me does."

"Only because you're an asshole to me." Weiss growled before sighing. "Look. Here's what's going to happen. We are going to fix this. You are going to take a picture of us and put it in this binder."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to kick your ass before the others do."

"The others?" Jaune blinked. "Why are they going to kick my ass?"

"Because they think we ruined the winter break for them."

Jaune was quiet for a moment. "I mean, we did."

"Yes, we did, and exactly the point. So take that fancy camera I got you and take my pic-" CLICK! Weiss blinked a couple of times as her vision was still blurred from the sudden flash. "Argh! You asshole!"

"What? I took your picture." Jaune showed off the photo on his camera with a shit-eating grin. "See?"

"Delete that." Weiss ordered.

"No." Jaune refused without dropping his smile.

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, then heaved a sigh. "Fine. Just... don't do anything weird with it. That's all I ask."

"Okay?" Jaune looked to his camera and pressed a button. "There, I deleted it."

"Oh." Weiss then watched Jaune turn on the light and pulled the chair to the center of the room. "What are you doing?"

"Setting up the shot." Jaune said off-handedly. "You want our picture taken, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, except yours in this chair." Jaune chuckled.

"Ugh, you're worse than Xiao Long." She seated herself in the chair.

"I doubt it." Jaune lifted and lowered the camera repeatedly while crouched next to the desk before he grabbed a textbook and set the camera on top of it. "Okay..." He ran up to Weiss, taking place behind her. "Smile."

"Why?"

"It's your picture."

"Are you smiling?"

"Yeah."

"Bull."

"I am."

"...Fine." Weiss smiled and the camera flashed as she did. Jaune ran up to the camera and looked it over. He grinned. "What?"

"Nothing. I just look really good in this."

"Let me see." Weiss looked at the photo and immediately frowned. "You made a stupid face."

"I was smiling."

"You were making a stupid face while smiling."

"Well, do you want to take another one?"

Weiss thought for a moment, then nodded. "No stupid pictures this time."

--------------------------------------------------

Weiss opened her photo album, much time had passed since she'd opened it. Many more memories were captured in time and held in place right there inside her book. Her favorite page was the one with all of her favorite photos. The ones filled with her making goofy faces with her husband, Jaune Arc.

Happy Non-Descript Winter Holiday

[carletes]

oh how about carlando cockwarming?

It was because Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as he was that Lando loved when he wasn’t. And mostly, it was Lando’s fault. He pushed Carlos, liked making his eyes flash, liked seeing how far he could go before Carlos’ resolve broke.

But sometimes, Lando didn’t have to do anything at all. Like one day, when Lando was in a conference call, late at night, irritated because it was cold and he wanted to be in bed. Duty called, and so did timezones, so Lando had to crawl out of his comfortable bed, from beside his hot boyfriend, stand in the living room. Staring at the swirling snow outside. Forehead gently banging against the window.

Which was why he was able to see Carlos approaching, his reflection drawing closer to Lando’s.

Lando glanced back with an apologetic grimace. He put himself on mute and said, “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, babe.”

“It was cold,” Carlos said instead, and Lando was too distracted to notice, then, the look in Carlos’ eyes.

“Yeah. Freezing out there. D’you wanna hike up the heat?”

But Carlos just went to the couch, their large sectional, and laid down in it. He patted the space in front of him. Lando shook his head. “I have the meeting.”

“Come here.”

“Carlos, I’ll be there when I can–”

“Lando.”

And Lando shut up immediately. Carlos was looking at him intently, his voice sharp. Then he said, less sharp but still commanding, and fuck that went straight to Lando’s dick: “Ven aquí.”

Lando immediately walked over. He sat down in front of the sectional, phone still clenched in his hands, AirPods in his ears, and knelt, gazing at Carlos.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Carlos said. “Strip for me.”

Lando did. He set his phone aside and took his sweatshirt off, careful not to jostle his AirPods, then kicked off his sweatpants. He was naked, shivering slightly in the cold, AirPods incongruous against his nudity—but he knew Carlos liked that. Liked that Lando could be the CEO in his own world while Carlos (at least sometimes) called the shots in their shared world, simultaneously.

“I’m cold,” Carlos said, his voice calm, even. “I need you to warm me up.”

“How, daddy?” Lando asked, eager to please, desperate to please. He knelt down in front of Carlos again and made a high, desperate noise as Carlos ran a hand through his curls.

“So pretty,” Carlos murmured, and Lando glowed with the praise. “Turn around and get on your hands and knees for me.”

Lando did. In his ears, whoever he was speaking with (it didn’t matter, he didn’t care) was saying something about profit margins against marketing costs, and Lando was just aware enough to know he needn’t be concerned. He presented himself to Carlos, and Carlos leaned over and ran a broad, large hand over Lando’s ass. It was an appraisal. Lando was hard with it. He spread Lando’s ass, and Lando moaned softly.

“You don’t need any preparation,” Carlos said, satisfied. “Tell me why?”

“Because you fucked me so good before bed, daddy,” Lando explained, flush with pride. It was good, Carlos fucking Lando from below while Lando gasped above him, coming over Carlos’ abs without warning as Carlos just grinned delightedly.

“That’s right. Do you want to do something for me?”

“Anything,” Lando said, turning back around, wanting Carlos’ approval more than anything. Carlos put a thumb to Lando’s lips and Lando opened his mouth.

“Like I said. I’m cold,” Carlos said. “I’m going to warm my cock in your little asshole.”

Lando moaned. It was embarrassing. He should have been embarrassed. But he wasn’t. He just nodded over and over, whispering, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please use me. Daddy. However you want.”

“That’s my good boy,” Carlos said, and he patted the couch again. Lando immediately slipped in, back against Carlos’ chest, and Carlos wrapped an arm around Lando and pulled him into position. “Baby boy. Perfect for me.”

And without warning, Carlos pushed into Lando, his cock thick and wonderful and insistent. Lando mewled, eyes fluttering.

“Lando, you still there?”

Goddammit.

“Answer your people, Lando,” Carlos said quickly, right into Lando’s ear. His cock, his cock, it felt so good. “You have daddy’s permission.”

Shaking, Lando scrambled for his phone and unmuted himself. He cleared his throat.

“I’m here. Everything sounds good so far. I think we can launch the campaign in a month.”

“Glad you agree. We have a couple more things to discuss, and then we should be good to wrap up.”

Lando muted himself just as Carlos whispered, “My impressive Lando. My successful Lando. Do they know you’re just a cockwarmer at home?”

Lando’s cock twitched with that. He bit his lip and shook his head.

“Do they know who fucks you every night?”

Every inch of Lando’s body ached to push back against Carlos, fuck himself on Carlos. But he was a good cockwarmer. He wouldn’t move.

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, as the men on his phone spoke about views and interactions and influence collaborations. “They’ve seen me on your arm lots of times before.”

“And if I asked you for this in front of them?” Carlos whispered, pulling Lando deeper onto him, his cock pulsing inside Lando. “If I told you to sit on my lap, let me use you like this, in the middle of a business meeting…would you?”

The vision of it. Lando sitting in Carlos as his throne, leading a meeting, his asshole full with Carlos’…

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, and he turned and smiled at Carlos. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

And Carlos’ smile was surprisingly sweet. He leaned in and kissed Lando’s lips. “My perfect Lando. Filthy just for me.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You can go back to your meeting, baby boy.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Somehow, the meeting passed. Lando even made some points during it. And through it all, Carlos remained in him, almost as if he were dozing, only then he would rock into Lando and make his breath catch on a sentence.

Afterwards, when Lando had his AirPods out, his phone cast aside, Carlos pulled him in close.

“Lando. Can I fuck you now?”

And Lando grinned at Carlos, his eyes heavy with the joy of being used so. “So now you want my permission?”

“Well, you’re the boss, aren’t you?” Carlos replied smoothly. And somehow, even as Carlos began fucking him hard, his hand pumping Lando’s heavy, straining cock, Lando wondered at how Carlos made him feel in control even when he wasn’t.

Because somehow, even when he wasn’t, Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as always.

[anamericangirl]

I have to rant to someone who will understand how egregious and obnoxious this is because my friends are sick of me. The reaction to rural NC in this hurricane? This will be the norm if Tim Walz is VP. Walz has been dismissive, insulting, and malicious towards rural Minnesota. He said that there's nothing of value, nothing but rocks and cows. He has very clearly expressed antagonism towards rural values and culture. Tim Walz will brag about his education bills, yet he tracks down rural schools with high native populations and penalizes their funding and burdens their staff with unnecessary training and even legal threats because they punish "too high" a number of native students compared to white. I work among schools that are 99% native and they every year have mandated training to address their racial bias and face harsh penalties from the state for punishing too many native kids. They have to adapt to the loss of funding. Despite the rez saying they want to set a standard of excellence and they are proud to be breaking generational curses, Walz denies them crucial funding and punishes them for trying to help their kids learn to make the right choices. He recently signed in a bill requiring free lunches, and knowingly and purposefully did not modify the paperwork process many rural schools rely on to make up the missing our districts desperately need, which relies on students signing up for free and reduced lunches. This bill has devastated funding and left many rural schools scrambling. In addition, he continues to refuse to provide rural schools with more support to bus students, knowing that they cannot afford the costs of bussing over so many miles. Instead, he continues to pour funding into transportation for students in the cities. He has implemented bloated and wasteful mentor programs for teachers yet refuses to allow schools to take disciplinary action against students who directly threaten the lives and wellbeing of teachers. We had a gun threat at our school and the district did not expel the student who made the threat to shoot up the school because he was native and Walz's administration was likely to sue. He also refuses to do anything about our shitty retirement. We have the top (or did before he fucked us over) educators in the nation, and yet are ranked among the bottom 5 for benefits and retirement. But he refuses to fix retirement because nobody wants to teach in his schools, and if he actually fixes retirement, there will be almost no teachers left.

Walz is wrathful and vindictive to rural communities because they don't vote for him or like his policies, and he purposefully makes our lives harder. As his records show, he is a liar and a braggart. In true Minnesotan fashion, he'll underhandedly cut you while he smiles and calls you his neighbor. That man is a snake, and if you despise what you see with the hurricane response, know that he will never pass up an opportunity to make the lives of those who didn't and wouldn't vote for him a living hell, and this level of abuse of rural communities and vulnerable poor populations will get worse.

I’m obviously a little late to this but man it’s always worse than I think!

The only thing good people ever had to say about Walz was “free lunches 😍” but even that was shit when you actually look at what the policy was and the impact it had.

And instead of treating rural areas like trash because they don’t vote the right way maybe he should have been treating them better if he wanted the votes.

The response from him and Harris to the hurricane over here was abysmal and of course that just speaks to what kind of people they are and their treatment of us after that storm definitely lost them North Carolina.

Sorry you’re stuck with him over there, though.

[leftoverghosts]

round and round

canon!patrick zweig x nonchalant!user (gn)

or you're tired of arguing with patrick zweig.

requested by @diorrfairy this one is sfw, it wouldn't get spicy even after i begged it. :( xoxoxo

The city sprawls beneath you, the lights flickering like distant stars against the night sky. The cool air from your high-rise balcony is a welcome contrast to the heat building between you and Patrick. The panoramic view of the skyline feels like it belongs to someone else’s life, someone who doesn’t have to deal with the chaos you two have created.

Patrick needed a place to stay during his tour break, and, as always, you let him in. It’s a habit by now, one you don’t question. The familiar tension between you both is something you’ve grown accustomed to, but tonight, it's especially annoying.

“I’m too emotional? Maybe if you showed some emotion, we wouldn’t be here!” Pat’s always liked to play the victim.

You remain composed, your gaze still fixed on the nightscape below. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s frustrated, maybe even hurt. This is his coping mechanism; he brings everything to the surface when he wants his loneliness to become your responsibility.

“I’m not the one making things complicated,” you say, voice calm, controlled. As the wind stirs your hair, you take a slow, deliberate sip from your glass, your face a mask of indifference. You've heard it all before— the same accusations, the same frustrations. And yet, as soon as the tour picks back up, he'll be gone, proving that he never cared enough to change anything.

“Patrick.” His name is an admonishment as you turn to face him finally, one eyebrow arched, the air of nonchalance you’ve perfected hanging around you like a cloak. Patrick stares back at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t solve, frustration painted on his features.

He remains determined as he moves closer, his hand reaching up to cradle your face and slipping into your hair. “You always shut down. It’s like I’m talking to a wall. I’m here, trying to make sense of this, and you—” He falters for a second, before he steels himself again, voice tight. “You just float through it like none of it matters.”

“You know what you’re here for, what you’re good for, Pat.” It’s a cruel statement, but it is just one of the many hurtful things that have been exchanged between the two. He stares at you as if he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth before his hand in your hair tightens its grip.

You watch as realization dawns on Patrick's face, his features twisting in anguish. "How can you say that?" he spits, his grip on your hair tightening. You feel a sharp pain shoot through your scalp but you refuse to flinch. He can be rough, but you don't mind it, and deep down you know he would never truly harm you physically. He knows that the best way to hurt you is by withholding his affection and attention.

"You know it's true," you respond coolly, meeting his gaze head on. "You come back to me whenever things get tough and then leave when it's convenient for you. It's always been about what I can do for you, never about how I feel."

Patrick's eyes flicker with guilt and something darker. "That's not fair," he says, his voice strained.

You shrug, feeling a numbness settle over you. "Life isn't fair." It's a phrase that has become all too familiar to you over the years.

He knows you're right. He can't outwit you, so he does what he's good at and kisses you roughly, anger evident in the harsh press of his lips against yours. You let him, knowing that this is just another part of the twisted dance you two do. His other hand grips your waist tightly, fingertips digging in like he's trying to leave a mark, to prove that he was here.

When he pulls back, breathing heavily, his eyes are stormy with a mix of lust and resentment. "You think you have me all figured out," he says, voice low and dangerous. "But you don't know anything."

A humorless laugh escapes your lips. "I know enough. I know that by this time next week you'll be gone, off to the next city, the next bed, the next distraction."

Patrick shakes his head, jaw clenched tight. "It's not that simple."

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ a little hope ྀིა .ᐟ

prev 𐙚 next

ㅡ my youth, your kitchen.

the bus ride is quieter than you expected, the occasional sound of conversations blending with the echo of the engine.

you're seated between renjun and jeno, your bag of groceries resting on your lap. jaemin, on the other side of jeno, is fiddling with his phone, half-listening to whatever conversation is unfolding.

renjun leans closer to glance at the list in your hand, his brow furrowing. “we really didn’t need this much marshmallows,” he mutters.

“you’re the one who grabbed the jumbo bag,” you reply, nudging him lightly.

“because you said, ‘go big or go home,’” renjun shoots back, his lips twitching in amusement.

jeno chuckles softly, catching the exchange. “i mean, you guys are set for a camping trip with that much.”

“and a really sugar high night,” jaemin adds, glancing up his phone.

“exactly,” you say, adjusting the bag of marshmallows on your lap. “besides, we’ve got chocolate strawberries to balance it out.”

“because that’s so much healthier,” renjun says, rolling his eyes, though he doesn’t argue further.

jeno smiles at the dynamic, but he doesn’t say much more. instead, his gaze lingers on you for a moment before turning to the front of the bus.

the warmth of the ride and the day’s events start to catch up with you. the soft vibration of the engine feels almost hypnotic, and before you know it, your eyelids grow heavier. you fight it for a bit, but your head dips slightly, making you straighten up quickly.

jeno notices immediately. “tired?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

you nod, stifling a yawn. “a little. it’s been a long day.”

he hesitates, shifting in his seat slightly, as though he’s about to offer his shoulder. but before he can move or say anything, renjun speaks up.

“don’t fall over trying to stay awake,” renjun says simply, tilting his shoulder toward you.

you start to protest, but renjun is already moving. with a gentle hand, he adjusts your head so it rests on his shoulder. “there,” he says, his tone nonchalant, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you blink at him but don’t argue, "mmm, thanks," you mumbled drowsily, your voice soft as your head rested against renjun’s shoulder. his jacket warm and familiar, making it easy to relax.

jeno leans back in his seat, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches the scene. there’s nothing inherently unusual about it — it’s just renjun being renjun. but still, he can’t help but feel a pang of something he doesn’t quite understand.

jaemin glances up from his phone, eyes flicking between jeno and you before landing on renjun. “you good, jeno?”

jeno clears his throat, looking out the window. “why wouldn’t i be,” he says quickly.

jaemin raises a brow but doesn’t press further, smirking faintly to himself as he goes back to his phone.

jeno mentally clicked his tongue and glanced away, pretending the scene didn’t bother him. it wasn’t like he had any reason to feel this way, you and he barely knew each other.

from where he sat, it was hard not to assume there was something more between you and renjun. the way renjun had effortlessly moved your head onto his shoulder, how you didn’t hesitate to lean into him. it all felt too natural to be just friendship.

still, jeno reasoned, he would know if renjun were dating someone. he knew renjun wasn’t the type to keep something like that a secret.

with that thought, he refused to let the hope of you and him die out entirely. it never hurt to have a little hope.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

ʚ taglist - open ɞ

@t-102 @niniiflwr @dudekiss3r @defzcl @stqrgr7 @imalwaysjeno @jeongjaeleftbicep @rubiiisyeon @jae10velies @cookydream @222low @dearlyminhyung @mmjhh1998 @gukuwii @hyucksunset @chenlesfeetpic @urlocalbeaner5 @taeeflwrr @fullhyucksunny @hyuksworld @nmmsmari @jeonghansshitester

[abbysimsfun]

Dating Deanna Entry: Nicola Moody-McMillan for @changingplumbob

Hey everyone! I've never done anything like this before so I don't know exactly how to introduce myself. But I'm a schoolteacher in Henford-on-Bagley, the same small town where I was born and raised.

I'm currently living in my childhood home in the Bramblewood with my mother, Kim, and my younger brother, Dominic. Our relationship is pretty good even though my mom can be a bit of a problem at parties, but I'm a family-oriented sim! My mother and brother mean the world to me, and we've been especially close since my dad passed away not that long ago.

Apart from my job, which I love, I like doing Henford things - offering favours to people in need, cross-stitching, gardening, and talking to birds! I haven't really travelled much, but I'm ready to get out of my comfort zone!

I think. I really love comfort, and I've heard these bachelor shows can get a little wild. My friends said not to worry about my manicure - but honestly, I'll probably always worry about my manicure.

The big elephant in the room is my marital status - divorced. At 24! I married my high school sweetheart but she turned out to be less sweetheart, more heartless...sorry, that's a boring story! We grew apart.

Some days it feels like we divorced just yesterday. But some time has passed, I really believe in counseling, and I'm ready to try dating for, really, the first time in my life. That's kind of embarrassing to say out loud!

My friends said don't be negative. But some days can feel like the worst day ever, you know? Maybe you don't know. I don't know. I'm not always great at first impressions and I can be a little high maintenance, but I'm excited about this experience!

I can't wait to meet Deanna. Joey can flirt with me if he wants, but I'm a high maintenance lesbian who wants a family, so he'd be wasting a good line on the wrong gal! Even though I can be a pretty competitive teacher on School Sports Days, I'm really looking forward to getting to know the other contestants, too. People who don't know Hazel. Who isn't important.

More about Nicola, housekeeping, etc...

Nicola Kimberly Moody-McMillan (she/her), daughter of Henford townie Kim Goldbloom, and granddaughter of townies Ian McMillan and Derek Moody, who adopted Kim. Nicola's father was a very blond randomly-generated sim named Eddie Harmon (RIP!). She has a younger brother named Dominic.

She's grown up from a wee sprite in my Sims In Bloom legacy challenge as a best friend and then girlfriend/later wife of my Gen 2 heir's little sister (until it all fell apart).

Nicola is a cis lesbian who is exclusively attracted to women, both romantically and sexually. She is a monogamous sim, but Henford is a small town. Whether her interests include non-binary or trans women remains to be discovered, actually.

Goes By: Miss Moody-McMillan (in class), Nicola, Nic, but not Nicki Hometown: Henford-on-Bagley Traits: High Maintenance, Family Oriented, Good (originally she had one of @maplebellsmods's More Traits - Spoiled - in addition to the last two, and I figured High Maintenance was closest to that one). She had a fourth bonus trait, Childish, which I lost when I switched out Spoiled, but feel free to add it back in for the sake of keeping her canon if you have the extra slots! Fears Being Cheated On (I think this should carry over into the Gallery-saved version but I'm actually not sure...) Likes: Bowling, Gardening, Handiness, Research & Debate, Cross-Stitch, Fitness, Wellness, Physical Intimacy, Flirtation, Deep Thoughts, Compliments, Stories, Small Talk, Discussing Interests, Discussing Hobbies, and has a more upbeat, poppy, or catchy singer-songwriter driven music taste Dislikes: Dancing, Fishing, Programming, Arguments (they make her feel bad even though she can be combative), Deception Favourite Colours: Blue, Grey, Purple, White

Open to flirt/get intimate with other contestants? She's there for Deanna and to build a future with her, but she's also spreading her wings for the first time so yes.

Open to polyamory? As much as marriage sucked for Nicola the first time around, she still believes in soulmates and true love and monogamous commitment.

Open to woohoo? She would be if it feels right.

Doesn't vibe with pessimistic, argumentative, and ambitionless sims. And yes, with her traits and Henford origins she's definitely grown up to be a little fairytale princess-coded. Maybe she's a little like The Princess and the Pea, so we'll see how she does with the challenges and her high maintenance mood swings.

Now that introductions are out of the way, she and her Watcher are All In.

Download Available: On the Sims 4 Gallery under userID simcann, 'Nicola for DatingDeanna.'

cc used? The submitted version of Nicola has EA eyebrows in a shade darker than her hair colour, but normally she has TwistedCat's Lush eyebrows which are Maxis-friendly. Even though they look darker on her, they're the same shade of blonde as her hair. Most of the above photos were taken with her new eyebrows, except the portrait with her mother and brother, which shows her OG cc brows.

For anyone curious to see her dear departed dad, Eddie, here he is with Nic's mom, Kim, in their younger years, next to a shot of kid Nicola because I'm shamelessly buying affection for her:

And recently, Nicola randomly dressed for Spooky Day as The Final Girl. Just saying:

WCIFs: The picture of Kim, Nicola, and Dominic is from @simmireen's amazing Ultimate Family Portrait posepack, a perpetual favourite of mine! The classroom is just a room, but I found it on the Gallery by Jmadyson1030 - I love the aesthetic, the hamster cage, and the cushy extra seating along the walls. Felt like a classroom I'd almost want to be in myself!

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night - Part 3

Masterlist

You and Louis continue to navigate your pregnancy and relationship together.

Tags: Louis x reader, a lot more fluff, smutty smut too

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 - coming soon

…

The morning is unbearable. It’s not the nausea or fatigue this time, but something far more insidious. You’re hot, your skin tingling, and it seems like everything the boys do only makes it worse.

Louis lounges on the couch in the green room, his t-shirt riding up slightly as he scrolls through his phone. You can’t help but notice the way his muscles shift beneath the fabric, the curve of his shoulders—God, how do you never notice these things?

Harry sits nearby, running a hand through his damp curls, fresh from the shower. You catch the glint of water droplets clinging to his neck, and your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t. Niall is eating an apple, his jaw working in a way that you definitely don’t need to pay attention to.

Meanwhile, Liam stretches his arms above his head, his t-shirt tightening across his chest, and Zayn just stands there with his quiet, composed presence that somehow still draws your gaze.

Shit. You’re a walking hormonal disaster.

You sit stiffly on the armchair, gripping a book as though it’s your last defense, though you haven’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. Every little movement or sound seems to draw your attention: Louis laughing softly, Niall humming a tune, Harry leaning back with that lazy, confident smile.

You try to focus, but everything feels so... different.

“Y/N?” Louis’s voice pulls you back to reality, and you blink at him in confusion.

“What?” you say, a bit too sharply.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

“Fine,” you reply quickly, burying your face in your book, but you can feel his eyes on you, and it only makes everything worse.

“Sure, she’s fine,” Niall says, his voice full of teasing skepticism. “Look at her, gripping that book like it’s her last defense.”

You glare at him. “Shut up, Niall.”

“Someone’s snappy,” Harry says, smirking as he leans forward. “What’s got you so worked up?”

You groan internally, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing’s got me worked up.”

“Sure,” Zayn adds with a knowing look, his sharp gaze catching yours. “You’re red as a tomato, love.”

“I’m not!” you snap, but your protest only makes them all chuckle.

Louis tilts his head, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “She’s definitely flustered. Wonder why…”

“Maybe it’s the hormones?” Liam offers, shrugging. “I read that they can make you… you know, extra emotional. Or, uh… other things.”

That’s when it hits the rest of them, and you can see the realization dawn on their faces.

“Ohhhh,” Niall says, drawing out the word with a mischievous grin. “So that’s what’s going on.”

“It’s not,” you lie quickly, your voice high-pitched and unconvincing.

Harry laughs, leaning back in his chair. “It totally is. You’ve been eyeing us all morning, haven’t you?”

You freeze, looking between the boys, all smirking now. “I have not!”

Louis raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Even me, love?”

“Especially you!” Niall chimes in, earning a sharp glare from you.

“You’ve been checking us all out, huh?” Zayn adds, crossing his arms with a knowing, amused look.

You feel the heat in your cheeks turn up several notches. “I’m not—”

“Don’t worry, love,” Niall says, a wink in his voice. “We’re all here for you.”

“You are?” you snap, trying to sound exasperated, but even you can hear the breathiness in your voice.

Louis leans forward, his smirk replaced by something softer. “I mean, if you need help with anything... you know, I’m happy to step in.”

Your heart skips, but you roll your eyes, trying to keep your cool. “Oh yeah? You think you’re gonna help me out, Lou?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice suddenly low, teasing. “I think I can help you out.”

“You guys are impossible,” you mutter, standing abruptly to make your exit.

But before you can reach the door, Louis is right behind you, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you back toward him. “Hey, I’m serious,” he says quietly, his smirk now replaced with something genuine, something soft. “If you need anything, I’ve got you. Anything at all.”

You can’t help it. The moment Louis pulls you closer, the warmth of his body against yours, his breath against your skin—it all feels too much, but in the best way possible. Your body hums with anticipation, your nerves buzzing with an energy that you can’t seem to shake.

Louis smiles down at you, his hands resting lightly on your hips, the touch warm and comforting but undeniably charged. He knows, as much as you do, where this is heading.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice husky, his thumb stroking along your lower back in slow, soothing circles.

You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the growing tension between you. “I’m fine. Just... been thinking about this all day.”

His eyes darken slightly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What, me?”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

“I definitely noticed,” he grins, then leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve been looking at me all day like you wanna pounce.”

You shiver at the low tone of his voice, feeling the heat pool in your stomach. “Well, I’m not gonna wait any longer.”

Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway that leads to the more private part of the venue, away from prying eyes. The adrenaline and heat coursing through your veins make you bold.

Louis follows you, a smile playing on his lips, but there's something in his eyes—something that makes your heart beat faster, the anticipation almost unbearable. “You sure about this?”

You stop in the hallway, pressing your back against the cool wall, your breath coming faster. “I need this. I need you.”

It’s heated, messy, and full of pent-up desire. His hands slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground as you wrap your legs around him, the two of you moving instinctively toward the nearest private space.

When you reach a small, unused room, Louis kicks the door shut behind you with his foot, his hands already tugging at your clothes. You don’t stop him. You’re desperate for him, for the closeness, for the way your bodies mesh together like it was always meant to be this way.

His hands roam your body, firm but reverent, sliding over your waist, your hips, your thighs. You’re already tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours. He lets out a low groan as you manage to pull it over his head, and the sight of his bare chest makes your pulse race.

“God, I need you,” he mutters, his voice rough as he presses you back against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a blazing path in their wake.

“Then take me,” you breathe, your fingers tangling in his hair as your back arches instinctively, your body pressing closer to his.

Louis lets out a low, needy sound, his hands sliding under your shirt to lift it over your head. He pauses for a second, his eyes roaming over you, dark with desire. “You’re stunning,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and the sincerity in his tone sends a rush of warmth through you.

You don’t have time to respond before he’s kissing you again, his hands fumbling to remove the rest of your clothes as yours do the same to his. The cool air against your skin is nothing compared to the heat radiating between you, and when his hands grip your thighs, lifting you, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

The hard press of the door against your back contrasts with the softness of his lips, the roughness of his hands as he holds you steady. He pauses for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting as the tension between you reaches its peak.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky but laced with concern.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling but certain. “Please, Louis.”

That’s all it takes. He shifts, his hands guiding you into position, and then he’s pushing into you with a slow, deliberate movement that makes you gasp.

The sensation is overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely, his body fitting perfectly with yours. He stays still for a moment, his hands gripping your hips as he presses his forehead against yours.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groans, his voice strained as he starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a rhythm that has you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

The pace is unhurried at first, almost teasing, but it doesn’t take long for the desperation to take over. The rhythm becomes faster, more urgent, your bodies moving together as if they were made for this.

The room is filled with the sound of heavy breaths, muffled moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Your hands find his hair, tugging gently as your head falls back, a gasp escaping your lips as he hits just the right spot.

“Louis,” you whimper, your voice shaky as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable level.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection as he grips you tighter, his movements becoming even more precise, more deliberate.

You can feel the tension coiling in your stomach, the heat spreading through your body as you approach the edge. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and when you finally tip over, the pleasure crashes over you in waves, leaving you trembling in his arms.

Louis isn’t far behind, his movements becoming erratic as he groans your name, his body shuddering against yours as he finds his release. He holds you tightly, his face buried in your neck, both of you catching your breath as the aftershocks ripple through you.

For a moment, the only sound is your breathing, the quiet intimacy of the moment sinking in as he gently lowers you to your feet. His hands stay on your waist, steadying you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you rest your forehead against his. “Better than okay.”

He grins, that familiar mischief returning to his expression. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you just yet.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest, but the warmth in his gaze and the way he’s still holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world—it’s enough to make your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

...

You and Louis sneak back into the green room, trying your best to look composed, but the slight flush in your cheeks and the way Louis’ hand lingers on the small of your back make it impossible to hide what just happened.

Niall is the first to notice. He’s sprawled across one of the couches, scrolling on his phone, but his eyes flick up as you walk in. His lips immediately twitch into a knowing smirk. “Well, don’t you two look... refreshed.”

Louis scoffs, but his grin gives him away. “We’re just fine, thanks.”

“Sure, mate,” Harry pipes up from the other side of the room, his legs draped over an armchair. “You’ve got that smug post-shag glow. It’s practically blinding.”

Your face burns, and you swat at Louis’ chest. “Couldn’t you have waited until we were far, far away from them?” you mutter under your breath.

Louis only shrugs, his arm slipping around your waist. “What can I say? You were irresistible.”

Zayn glances up from where he’s fiddling with a guitar pick, his brow raised. “You two do realize we all know, yeah? You’re not exactly subtle.”

Liam clears his throat, leaning forward from his spot near the mini-fridge. “Honestly, I think we’d all appreciate a bit more subtlety. This is a shared space.”

The teasing is relentless, and despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the embarrassed laugh that escapes you. “Okay, okay! We get it. You’ve all made your point.”

“Just one more thing,” Harry adds, his grin downright wicked. “You might wanna check your hair, love. It’s a bit... tousled.”

You groan, running a hand over your head while Louis glares playfully at Harry. “Oi, leave her alone,” he says, tugging you closer. “She’s already been through enough dealing with you lot.”

“Dealing with us?” Niall scoffs, feigning offense. “Pretty sure she’s got her hands full dealing with you.”

The room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but join in, despite your embarrassment. Louis presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “Don’t worry, love. They’re just jealous.”

You glance up at him, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “If this is what jealousy looks like, I think I’ll survive.”

The playful banter continues as you and Louis settle onto one of the couches, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. For all the teasing, there’s an undeniable warmth in the way the boys interact with you both—a silent show of acceptance and affection.

And for a moment, in the midst of their laughter and your quiet contentment, everything feels perfectly right.

...

You’re sitting on one of the speaker cases at the edge of the stage, sipping on a bottle of water and watching the boys rehearse. The soundcheck is in full swing, and Louis is front and center, mic in hand, as he belts out the final chorus of one of their songs. His voice is strong and warm, and you can’t help but smile.

It’s been a good day so far. You’ve felt more energized than usual, and being back on stage—even if you’re just sitting there—makes you feel like part of the band again.

Then it happens.

A strange, fluttering sensation low in your belly. It’s soft at first, almost like bubbles or a gentle nudge from the inside. You freeze, your hand instinctively pressing against your bump. The sensation comes again, a little stronger this time, and your breath catches.

The baby.

The baby just kicked.

“Everything alright over there, love?” Louis calls, noticing the stunned look on your face. He’s stopped singing now, the rest of the boys turning to look at you with concern.

You blink, a smile slowly spreading across your face as you wave them off. “I’m fine!”

But Louis isn’t convinced. He hops off the stage, jogging over to you with the mic still in hand. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice laced with worry.

You grab his hand and place it on your belly without a word. For a moment, nothing happens. His brow furrows, and he opens his mouth to say something, but then—there it is.

The baby kicks again, this time against Louis’ hand.

His eyes widen, his jaw dropping as he stares at you. “Was that…?”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yeah. That was him.”

Louis lets out a breathy laugh, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “He kicked. He actually kicked!”

“Wait, what?” Niall’s voice cuts through, and suddenly all the boys are rushing over, crowding around you with wide eyes and eager grins.

“Did the baby just kick?” Harry asks, practically bouncing on his heels.

“Yes, but one at a time!” you laugh, overwhelmed by their excitement.

“Lemme feel!” Niall says, reaching out before Louis swats his hand away.

“Oi, back off!” Louis says with a smirk, still keeping his hand firmly on your belly. “This is my moment.”

“Don’t be selfish, mate,” Zayn jokes, nudging Louis with his shoulder.

Liam kneels next to you, his voice soft. “How did it feel?”

“Like a little flutter at first,” you explain, still smiling through your tears. “Then it got stronger. It’s the weirdest and most amazing thing.”

Louis leans down, his face inches from your bump now. “Hey, little man. That was a good kick. You’re gonna be a footballer like your dad, huh?”

“Or a dancer!” Niall suggests, earning a laugh from the group.

The boys are all talking over each other now, making jokes and suggestions for the baby’s future, but you’re only focused on Louis. He’s still crouched in front of you, his hand on your bump and the softest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

He looks up at you, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “I can’t believe we made him.”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, brushing a tear off your cheek. “Me neither.”

In that moment, with the sound of the boys’ laughter and the warmth of Louis’ hand on your belly, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

…

The tour bus hums steadily beneath your feet, the low vibration doing nothing to ease the persistent ache in your lower back. You shift in your seat at the small dining table, propping a pillow behind you in an attempt to get comfortable. But at 22 weeks pregnant, it doesn’t help.

“Ugh, this sucks,” you mutter, pushing the pillow onto the floor in frustration. “I swear this baby is doing gymnastics in there.”

Louis looks up from his phone, his brows furrowing in concern. “You alright, love?”

“No, Louis, I’m not alright,” you snap, immediately feeling guilty but too irritable to rein it in. “I’m sore, I’m tired, I feel like a whale, and this bloody bus is making me dizzy. Can we just get off already?”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he gets up and crosses to your side, sliding onto the bench next to you. “Hey, hey,” he says softly, his hand finding your knee. “Take a deep breath, yeah? We’ll sort it.”

You roll your eyes. “You keep saying that, but unless you’ve got a magic wand hidden somewhere, I doubt it.”

“You never know,” he quips, trying to coax a smile from you. “I might surprise you.”

Across the bus, Niall looks up from his guitar, his expression cautious. “Did you eat this morning? Could be why you’re feeling dizzy.”

You glare at him, though it’s half-hearted. “I tried, okay? Nothing sounded good. And when I did eat, I felt like I was going to puke.”

“Right,” Louis interjects, standing abruptly and tugging you to your feet. “That’s it. We’re handling this now.”

“Louis, what are you doing?” you demand, but he’s already steering you toward the back lounge where Liam, Harry, and Zayn are sprawled out.

“She’s feeling like crap,” Louis announces as he marches you inside, ignoring your protests. “We’re fixing it. Ideas?”

Liam sits up straighter, his brows knitting. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you snap before immediately contradicting yourself. “No, I’m not fine. Everything hurts, and I’m sick of being treated like I’m breakable.”

“Whoa, okay,” Zayn says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Nobody’s saying you’re breakable.”

“Really? Because all of you have been acting like I can’t handle anything lately!” you retort, crossing your arms.

Harry exchanges a look with Liam, then stands up. “Alright, how about this: I’ll make you some tea. Ginger or mint might help with the queasiness.”

“Tea isn’t going to fix everything,” you mutter, though your tone softens slightly.

“Maybe not, but it’s a start,” Harry replies, his voice calm.

“Foot rub,” Zayn suggests, leaning back lazily but giving you a small smile. “That’s my go-to for stress. Works wonders.”

Liam nods. “Or some light stretches. I can guide you through a few if you’re up for it.”

Louis cuts them all off with a wave of his hand. “Tea first, then foot rub, then stretches,” he declares.

You roll your eyes again, but this time it’s accompanied by a reluctant smile. “You lot are ridiculous.”

“And you’re stuck with us,” Niall calls from the front, grinning cheekily.

By the time Harry hands you a steaming mug of tea, Louis has settled you onto the couch, propping your feet up on a pillow. He sits at the other end, pulling one of your feet into his lap and beginning to massage it with firm, practiced movements.

The relief is immediate, and you let out a soft sigh despite yourself. “Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“Told you we’d sort it,” Louis says smugly, his grin infectious.

As the boys continue to fuss over you—Harry adjusting your tea, Zayn offering snacks, and Liam jotting down stretching tips—you feel your frustration start to ebb away. The soreness remains, but the unwavering care and attention of the boys remind you that you’re not alone in this.

Louis leans down to press a kiss to your ankle, his touch tender. “Anything else, love?”

“No,” you murmur, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. “This is... good. Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says softly, his gaze steady. “Always.”

And as you look around at the boys—your family—you realize that even on your worst days, you’re in the best hands.

...

You sit cross-legged on the couch in the green room, arms folded over your chest as the muffled sound of the band’s soundcheck seeps through the walls. It’s not like you don’t understand why they insisted you sit this one out. You’re twenty-four weeks along, your feet are perpetually swollen, and exhaustion seems to be your constant companion. But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re part of the band, not some sidelined spectator.

The door creaks open, and Niall pokes his head in. “Hey, you alright in here?”

You glance up, plastering on a weak smile. “Yeah, just resting. Like everyone’s so keen on reminding me.”

He frowns, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “C’mon, it’s not like that. We’re just looking out for you and the baby.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your belly absentmindedly. “It’s just... I miss being out there. I miss being part of it.”

“You’re still part of it,” he says firmly, sitting down beside you. “The boys wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t feel like it. I mean, I get why they’re being careful, but every time I have to sit something out, it feels like I’m losing pieces of myself.”

Before Niall can respond, the door opens again, and Louis walks in, his face lighting up the second he sees you. “There’s my girl.”

“Hey,” you mumble, your voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

Louis narrows his eyes as he sits on the arm of the couch. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“She’s feeling left out,” Niall supplies, earning a glare from you.

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” you snap, though the edge in your voice is more from frustration than anger.

Louis tilts his head, watching you carefully. “Left out, huh? You do realize you’re the heart of this band, yeah? Baby or no baby, that hasn’t changed.”

“It feels like it’s changing,” you admit quietly. “Like this pregnancy is slowly taking me away from everything I love.”

Louis slides off the arm and crouches in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. “Listen to me. You’re not being taken away from anything. This—” he nods at your belly “—isn’t the end of something. It’s the beginning. And yeah, it’s gonna be different, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less a part of us.”

“Exactly,” Niall chimes in, grinning. “You’re stuck with us. Pregnant or not.”

Louis reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You’re still our chaos queen. Don’t think for a second we’d let you go anywhere. And if you need to yell at us now and then to remind us of that, go ahead. We can take it.”

You let out a soft laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter. “I do miss yelling at you guys.”

“Good,” Louis says with a smirk. “Means you’re still you.”

“Now,” Niall says, clapping his hands and standing up. “How about we smuggle you a snack from catering? Soundcheck’ll be done soon, and then it’s showtime.”

You smile as Louis leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his voice low and warm. “We’ve got you, love. Always.”

And for the first time that day, you truly believe it.

...

The arena vibrates with energy as you glide across the stage, microphone in hand. At 26 weeks pregnant, performing has become more challenging, but you refuse to let that stop you. Singing with the boys keeps you grounded, reminding you that you’re still part of the band.

But tonight, something feels off.

It starts as a dull ache low in your abdomen, then shifts to a sharper, more persistent pain. You grit your teeth and push through, determined not to draw attention to yourself. Louis’ voice cuts through the music, full of charisma as always, but even his reassuring presence can’t distract you from the discomfort building inside you.

As the next song begins, the pain intensifies, and a wave of dizziness crashes over you. You falter mid-step, your hand instinctively going to your bump.

Louis notices immediately. His eyes widen, and he steps closer, his voice momentarily dropping out of the harmony.

You lean into the mic, your voice shaky. “I—I need a moment,” you manage before turning and heading offstage, gripping the wall for support as you navigate the wings.

“Y/N?” Louis’ voice is urgent behind you. Within seconds, he’s at your side, helping you into a chair. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“It hurts,” you whisper, wincing as another cramp grips you. “It’s my stomach—I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Louis kneels in front of you, his hands hovering protectively over your bump. “Stay with me, love. Just breathe, yeah?”

Back on stage, Harry notices the commotion and steps up to the mic. “We’re going to take a quick break, everyone,” he says smoothly, though concern flickers in his eyes. “We’ll be back soon.”

As the crowd murmurs, Niall and Liam rush backstage, their faces etched with worry.

“Y/N?” Niall’s voice is gentle as he crouches beside you. “What’s going on?”

“She’s in pain,” Louis answers, his jaw tight. “We need the medic.”

Liam is already flagging down a crew member, who hurries off to fetch help.

The medic arrives moments later, their presence calming as they kneel beside you. “Tell me what’s going on,” they say, their tone reassuring as they check your pulse and gently press on your bump.

“It’s like cramps,” you say, biting your lip. “And I got really lightheaded.”

After a few moments of examination, the medic looks up. “It seems like growing pains,” they explain. “Your body’s stretching to accommodate the baby, and you’re probably a bit dehydrated. I don’t think it’s labor or anything serious, but you need to rest.”

Louis exhales sharply, his relief evident. “Rest. Got it.” He turns to you, his tone firm but gentle. “You’re sitting out the rest of the concert.”

“No,” you protest weakly. “I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Love,” Louis says, his voice low but resolute. “I’m not asking.”

“Louis is right,” Niall chimes in, his hand on your shoulder. “We’ve got this covered. You need to take care of yourself and the baby.”

Liam nods in agreement. “The fans will understand.”

Reluctantly, you nod, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You could never let us down,” Louis says softly, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll finish the show. You just rest, yeah?”

The boys head back to the stage, and you’re left backstage with a blanket draped over your lap, sipping water and trying to breathe through the soreness. As Louis’ voice carries through the arena, you close your eyes, grateful for him—and for the little life growing inside you.

…

The crowd’s cheers echo through the arena as the boys take their positions on stage. You’re seated at the edge of the platform, where they’ve set up a comfortable chair. Despite your protests, they’ve insisted you sit for the remainder of the tour performances to keep you and the baby safe.

It’s hard not to feel sidelined, but the boys go out of their way to make sure you’re still part of the magic.

As Niall picks up his acoustic guitar for the next song, he glances back at you and grins. “Mind if I join you for this one, love?”

“Of course not,” you say, smiling despite yourself.

He hops down from the stage and plops onto the floor beside you, guitar in hand. The intimate sound of the strings fills the air as he strums the opening chords of Little Things. He leans into his headset, his voice soft and soothing as he begins to sing.

The audience swoons, and you can’t help but laugh as he nudges you with his shoulder mid-song. “Still got the best seat in the house,” he teases, his eyes twinkling.

Before you can respond, Louis saunters over during a break between songs, pulling you into a quick side hug. “You’re not bored over here, are you?” he asks, his voice warm and teasing.

“Not when I’ve got Niall serenading me,” you reply with a smirk.

Louis rolls his eyes dramatically. “Figures. Always stealing my thunder.”

“You’re free to sit here too, mate,” Niall quips, patting the ground on your other side.

“Tempting,” Louis says, his hand drifting to your bump for a brief rub. “But I’ve got a show to finish. Keep her company, yeah?”

“Always,” Niall says, strumming a playful tune on his guitar.

Harry and Liam check in between songs too, taking turns to chat or joke with you, making sure you don’t feel left out. Zayn even tosses you a wink from across the stage at one point, which earns cheers from the crowd.

By the time the concert ends, your cheeks ache from smiling. The boys come offstage, sweaty and energized, but each one of them makes a point to check on you before anything else.

“How’re you holding up?” Louis asks, crouching in front of you.

“I’m good,” you say, your heart full. “Better than good. Thank you for keeping me part of this.”

Louis leans in to kiss your forehead. “You’ll always be part of this, love. You and the little one. Always.”

…

You sit backstage, legs crossed and bouncing impatiently as the boys rehearse. It’s been a long morning, and at 30 weeks pregnant your body is aching in ways that make you want to scream. Your back is sore, your feet feel swollen, and your hormones? They’re wreaking absolute havoc.

You tried fixing things yourself last night—twice—but it just wasn’t enough. Now, every glance at Louis, or any of the boys for that matter, is enough to set your teeth on edge. Louis, especially, is not helping. He’s standing front and center, his shirt clinging to him just enough to outline his shoulders and back, his voice cutting through the air as he sings.

Your mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t, and you press your thighs together in a desperate attempt to calm the growing heat low in your stomach. It doesn’t help.

You force yourself to look away, but it doesn’t matter because Niall’s there, perched on a stool, his arms flexing slightly as he strums his guitar. And then there’s Harry, who has sweat beading along his neck.

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, dragging a hand down your face. You’re absolutely feral, and it’s getting harder to keep it under wraps.

Louis catches your eye mid-verse and grins, his boyish smile making your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the baby. He finishes the line, winks, and you’re done. Absolutely done.

When they wrap up the song, you’re out of your seat in an instant. Louis barely has time to register your approach before you grab his wrist. “We need to talk,” you say, your voice low and urgent.

He looks surprised but doesn’t resist, letting you tug him toward a quieter corner of the backstage area. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern flickering across his face. “You okay?”

You glance around to make sure no one’s watching before stepping close, your body practically pressing against his. “I’m not okay,” you whisper, your voice strained. “I need you, Louis. Right now.”

His brows lift, but the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “Oh,” he says softly, his hand finding your waist. “That kind of need.”

“Yes,” you hiss, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve tried handling it myself, but it’s not enough. And this bump…” You gesture at your stomach, frustration spilling out in your voice. “It’s making everything harder.”

Louis lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve come to me sooner, love,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough that his lips brush the shell of your ear. “You know I’m always happy to help.”

Your breath hitches, and you tug him closer. “Then help me now,” you plead.

He glances around, then takes your hand, leading you toward the dressing room with purpose.

Louis locks the dressing room door behind you, and the sound of the latch clicking feels like a promise. He turns to you, his blue eyes softening as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the way you shift uncomfortably on your feet.

"You've been struggling, haven't you?" he asks, his voice low, filled with something tender.

You nod, the weight of his gaze already making your knees weak. "It's the hormones. The bump. I can't... I just need-"

He steps closer, his hands cupping your face as his lips brush over yours, soft but deliberate. "Say no more, love. I'll take care of you. Let me."

Your breath stutters as his hands drift down your body, tracing the swell of your bump with reverence before settling on your hips. He guides you backward until the backs of your thighs hit the plush couch in the corner of the room.

"Sit," he murmurs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obey, your heart pounding as he kneels in front of you, his large hands spreading your thighs gently. The position feels vulnerable, but the way he looks at you-like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen-makes your insecurities melt away.

"God, you're stunning," he breathes, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through you, and you can't help the way your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly.

"Louis," you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

He glances up at you, his smirk equal parts playful and reassuring. "I know, love. Just relax for me, yeah?"

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt out of the way as his lips follow, leaving a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses. Every touch feels electric, and by the time his mouth finds you, you're already a trembling mess.

The first brush of his tongue makes you gasp, your head falling back against the couch as a moan escapes your lips. He hums against you, the vibration adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

"Louis," you whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his hands hold you firmly in place, keeping you open for him.

"Let me," he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of intent. "I want to make you feel good."

And he does. His tongue moves with a precision that leaves you breathless, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firm, purposeful movements that send waves of heat through your body. He knows exactly how to unravel you, how to read every gasp, every arch of your back, and adjust his movements accordingly.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as the pressure builds, your body trembling beneath his touch. The ache in your muscles and the frustration that's been building for days dissolve under his ministrations, replaced by a consuming heat that leaves you on the brink.

"Louis," you cry out, your body tensing as the climax washes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling. He doesn't stop until you're squirming from the sensitivity, and even then, he presses a final, gentle kiss against you before pulling away.

His hands rub soothing circles on your thighs as he looks up at you, his lips glistening, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Better?"

You nod, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. "So much better," you manage to whisper, a smile tugging at your lips.

He grins, rising to his feet and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Good. Because there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, love."

You reach for him, pulling him down for a proper kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The moment is soft, tender, a quiet reminder of just how deeply he cares for you.

"I love you," you whisper against his lips, and the way his eyes light up makes your heart ache in the best way.

"I love you too," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

Louis helps you fix your hair and straighten your clothes, his smirk never fading. “You look ravishing,” he teases as he smooths a wrinkle on your skirt.

“Shut it,” you mutter, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrays you.

He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, let’s head back before they come looking for us. Niall’s got a knack for barging in at the worst moments.”

You let out a soft laugh, following him out of the dressing room. Your legs are still a little shaky, but Louis keeps you steady with his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

The moment you step into the green room, four pairs of eyes snap to you and Louis. Niall is the first to speak, his grin so wide it practically splits his face.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to rejoin us,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Harry raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Took you long enough. We thought we’d have to send a search party.”

Liam clears his throat, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a smirk creeps onto his face. “You two are terrible at sneaking off, you know that, right?”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but the amused quirk of his lips and the knowing look in his eyes speak volumes.

You groan, sinking into a chair and burying your face in your hands. “Can you all not?”

Louis, on the other hand, looks entirely unbothered. He plops down beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Jealous, are you?” he quips, grinning at the others.

“Jealous of what?” Niall shoots back. “The two of you disappearing for a quickie? Hard pass, mate.”

Your cheeks burn as Harry chuckles. “I mean, considering how you two look right now…” He gestures vaguely at you and Louis, his eyes twinkling.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Louis says, though his tone is more amused than annoyed. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Zayn finally speaks up, his voice calm but laced with humor. “We’re just glad you’re happy. Both of you.”

You glance at Louis, and the soft smile he gives you makes your heart swell. Despite the teasing, you can feel the genuine support radiating from the boys, and it makes you realize just how lucky you are to have them in your corner.

“Thanks,” you mumble, your voice quieter now. “For everything.”

Niall waves a hand. “Ah, don’t get all emotional on us. Just… maybe keep the sneaking around to a minimum, yeah? Some of us are trying to enjoy our snacks without mental images we didn’t ask for.”

You laugh despite yourself, and Louis squeezes your shoulder. “Noted. We’ll try to be more discreet next time.”

Liam shakes his head, but his smile is warm. “There’s no hiding anything with this group. You should know that by now.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned,” you reply, leaning into Louis and letting the warmth of the moment wash over you.

[razzmatash]

...With You Day 12 - “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” ...Sort of Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1406 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

Waking slowly, Calli shifted under the covers, frowning to herself. Something didn’t feel right. Sliding her hand across the mattress, her frown deepened when she didn’t find Sylus. She lifted her head and squinted in the dark but she couldn’t see any lights on from the bathroom. “Sylus?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and pushing herself up in bed.

He wasn’t in the room that much was clear now. Tapping the beside lamp, she still looked around to confirm he wasn’t. Where had he gone? He’d been so insistent about her going to bed after she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder on the couch. She’d pushed herself too hard, according to him, and he was calling it a night. He’d carried her to bed and tucked her in, climbing in with her when she hadn’t settled down right away.

Except it had barely been ten so he wouldn’t have gone to sleep.

Pushing her hair away from her face, she frowned to herself. Was he out in the living room? Had he not stayed because he didn’t want to wake her up? The clock showed she’d been asleep for a couple hours so everyone else should have been asleep by now too. They’d all stayed so they could celebrate the holiday in the morning and so far as she was aware, his twins were crashing on the pull out couch. Would he go out there or-

Calli shivered as a faint breeze washed through the room and she watched the curtains stir from it. Was he outside? She swung her legs off the bed and scooped up a cardigan she’d tossed earlier to pull on before padding over to the glass doors. Quietly peeking out, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see him on the balcony, leaning on the railing and watching the city below him.

“Sylus?” she said softly, not sure if she should disturb him. He’d clearly gone out here to be alone.

He didn’t say anything but he turned just enough to hold out a hand to her.

Shuffling across the balcony, she didn’t complain about the cold on her feet as she took his hand. He moved her to stand in front of him, tucking her close while he continued to watch the city. She looked at him over her shoulder before looking out as well when he still stayed quiet.

They were up high enough that it gave a wonderful view of everything in the area. Her favourite was the park nearby because the city would always light up the trees and she enjoyed watching them twinkle in the relative darkness. But it wasn’t just them. Other balconies had lights and decorations strung up, some curtains open to show the trees lit up inside for people that were still awake. There were little pockets of holiday cheer no matter where you looked.

“It’s different from what I’m used to,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling through her. “Even if people in the N109 celebrate the holidays, they do it privately. There’s no outward sign that something is happening for fear of it being taken advantage of or ruined.”

Calli listened, her heart aching a little. The Zone was filled with all kinds of people, many who hadn’t asked to be there but were there anyways. Because there was nowhere else to go. She knew she couldn’t fix it even if she tried but the holidays were special to her. With how busy her family had been, it was the one time they had all always agreed that they would be together. No matter what was happening, they would get together for the holiday.

“In all the years I’ve been there, I’ve never celebrated anything. I never wanted to,” he admitted. “There was no reason to. Even when the twins came, they didn’t know what a normal routine was either. They did small things with each other, tried to prank me the first few years, but nothing like this. Nothing like what the last few weeks have been.”

The last few weeks had been hectic to say the least and she suddenly wondered if she should have eased him into it a little more gently. “I’m sorry if it was too much,” she said softly.

He ducked his head, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t too much. It showed me a different side of you I hadn’t seen yet.”

Was that a good thing? Calli smiled wryly. “I don’t know how I should take that. I’ve been a little crazy the last few weeks.”

“Because it mattered to you and you wanted it to matter for me.”

That was true but it didn’t excuse it if she’d crossed a line. The arm around her belly tightened as he inhaled deeply, dropping a kiss on her neck that made her shiver.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he said quietly. “I told you you didn’t but you did it anyways.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone on the holiday,” Calli protested.

“The holidays don’t matter to me.”

She tried to twist to look at him but he kept her right where she was. “Sylus-”

“They don’t matter,” he repeated. “To me they’ve always been made up days that people use as an excuse to be together. You shouldn’t need an excuse for that. I don’t need an excuse for it. But they matter to you so I wanted to see why. I wanted you to show me why they mattered.”

“They matter because of the people I want to share them with.”

“And you wanted to share it with me.”

“Maybe we had a rocky start, Sylus, but if you think for one fucking second, you don’t matter to me, I’m going to throw you off this balcony.”

He chuckled, deep and low, and moved to press a kiss to her ear. “Odd way to show affection, sweetie.”

“You like it.”

He didn’t deny it and kissed her again. “They still don’t matter to me,” Sylus said after a moment.

She bit her lip to keep from reflexively saying anything. He wasn’t done and if she interrupted him, she wouldn’t get the rest of it.

“But what matters to me is that you shared it with me. You made space in your life, in your rituals, to include me. You went out of your way to do so. That you’re willing to do that for me...that’s what matters to me.” He paused, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “You’re what matters to me.”

Her breath caught as he gripped her chin between chilly fingers and turned her just enough so she could see him. “Sylus.”

“All I need is you, Calliope,” he said quietly. “Nothing else matters so long as I have you.”

She didn’t know what she was trying to say, words jumbled in her throat, before he kissed her. It was slow and deep, his teeth nipping at the plush of her lower lip before his tongue swiped over it soothingly. He slid it against her own, holding her captive while he took his time with her. One hand fisted in his shirt, holding onto him as the world dropped away around her. There was only him.

She managed to get out his name as he lifted his mouth from hers but that was all before he claimed her again. The hand on her chin slid back into her hair, burying in the curls to hold her steady as she began to tremble.

When he finally eased back from her, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers. His gaze was heavy on her as he watched her gasp for air, taking in all of her. “I don’t need presents,” he said softly. “You are my present.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a small breath. “We’re still going on the trip,” she pushed out.

She didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling before he kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re still going on the trip,” he agreed, his grip around her waist moving to band around her thighs and lift her up. “I’m looking forward to unwrapping my present.”

Not opening her eyes as he carried her back inside, Calli hung onto Sylus and told herself to just breathe. Considering what all she had bought for him to ‘unwrap’, she’d be lucky to survive the trip.

[eikichi-supremacy]

hey so do you think wtv keiko had to deal with growing up with yusuke could be considered a type of parentification

[hershelwidget]

TWO MORE TO GO

Caleb and Darwin have arrived!

Finished these two in record time! I also had them in more dynamic poses to make up for how out of character the other two were (cough cough Beast)

Caleb possesses the Gup-C, while Darwin has the Gup-D! Much like the two before them, they borrow some design points from their main drivers, but it is a lot less obvious now.

Face closeups!

(oh whoops lmao i didn't think darwin would be so close- ah well)

Next up is Emma and Felix! They will be the last of these for a while... At this rate you'll at LEAST get snippets of Emma's design by the end of the month.. I am struggling very hard with Felix :(

[pseudowho]

"...alright. Just the usual ones? Night time too...and tampons. Don't ever apologise. Alright. We'll be home soon. I love you."

The mid-morning traffic, less frantic now than an hour before, shhhaaaahed around the car. From the passenger seat, Yuuji watched Kento with a fascination about to bubble over with suppressed laughter. Kento put the phone down. Yuuji, just a boy, grinned, almost teasingly at Kento.

"Tampons, huh, Nanamin?"

Kento looked to Yuuji, flicking the windscreen wipers on to rid the screen of drifting cherry blossom. His face remained neutral, sincerely questioning. Yuuji scoffed, bold as brass, before continuing.

"Jeez Nanamin...you're such a simp."

Kento's eyes narrowed, searching for meaning. He repeated, slowly, the word unfamiliar upon his tongue.

"...'simp'."

"You'd do anything for her, right?"

"Is that...a bad thing? You say the word, not that I know it, as if it's derogatory."

Kento tapped on his phone, and Yuuji backpedaled, his grin sliding away to a wide-mouthed grimace as he waved his hands in a fit of no, wait, I can explain. Kento appeared to be reading, his face growing dour. He huffed, one short puff of air from his nose. He tucked his phone away.

"Ah-- Nanamin-- I didn't mean--"

"A simp, hmm? Alright. Come along, Yuuji."

They drove. Yuuji bit his nails as he stared out into traffic. Kento was silent, calm.

And Kento took Yuuji on errands.

At the Conbini, Kento collected pads, tampons, snacks and pain relief.

"Do you have any of the night time ones?" Kento asked the assistant, holding up a pack of pads, unashamed, as Yuuji tried to sink into the floor, just a boy. As the assistant walked away, Kento asked Yuuji, calmly.

"Would a simp do this?"

"Ah...jeez, I...yeah, I guess so."

"Alright."

In the Florist's, Kento was meticulous with the sweating assistant, identifying only the finest blooms of your favourite wildflowers. He commandeered, insisting they were wrapped in brown paper, stamped with wax and tied with ribbons. Tapping his fingers on the counter, bored, Yuuji's reverie was once more broken by Kento's smooth timbre.

"Would a simp do this?"

Kento walked up beside Yuuji, with a spray of sweet botanicals in his arms. Yuuji squirmed beneath the schooling.

"Yeah, I...I reckon so. Probably."

"Splendid. Come along."

At the launderette, collecting your repaired jacket; "Would a simp do this?"

At your parents' house, dropping off a birthday card; "Would a simp do this?"

At Jujutsu High, filing some late paperwork for you; "Would a simp do this?"

In the car, calling Ijichi to cancel drinks the following night; "Would a simp do this?"

By the time Kento had completed his errands, Yuuji sulked, just a boy, begrudging how overboard Kento had gone, all because Yuuji had used slang that meant nothing apart from something Kento couldn't understand.

Yuuji stood back in the hallway, shucking his shoes off, as Kento walked ahead.

Yuuji's eyes darted up, to you, shocked to see that you were...a mess. You could hide the tears all you liked, but your puffy lips and salt-sore cheeks told of a whole day of crying. The dinner Yuuji usually enjoyed wasn't made. The fragrant candles that Yuuji usually enjoyed weren't lit. The curtains were closed.

Yuuji felt vicariously guilty for something he had not done, but he listened to yours and Kento's mumbled conversation.

"...sorry...so shit...haven't done anything...needed you...Yuuji must be hungry, I..."

"...shhh...done nothing wrong...Ijichi cancelled tomorrow anyway...order take-out...come here..."

Kento held you in a rustle of bags and brown-papered flowers. He did not begrudge the tear stains on his lapels. He looked at you as though your very blood ran divine, when you gave the flowers and bag of snacks a watery smile, pressing a salty kiss to Kento's cheeks before walking to the kitchen.

As Kento and Yuuji stood back, watching you swipe your tears away before beginning to fill a vase with Kento's wildflowers, Yuuji dawned upon the cusp of a bold new understanding. Kento felt it, this gentle yearning, and took Yuuji by the hand over the horizon.

Kento's voice was, slow, considered, and gut-wrenchingly sincere.

"Never deny yourself the beauty of loving someone without restraint, for the fear of vulnerability, Yuuji. Never let anyone taint the way love should guide and consume you. Because if loving wholeheartedly is weakness...you shouldn't want to be strong."

Yuuji watched the gentle golden thread of joy that Kento had woven through your sadness. He shuffled, his hands in his pockets, his peachy head tilted down as he kicked at his shoes.

"...yeah, I get you. I'll... I'll be a simp too, then. When I find the one. And...and I'll be proud of it."

Kento smiled, pressing a bag of snacks to Yuuji's chest.

"And I'll be proud of you."

[lovesculprit]

Kinktober Day 11 - Virginity Loss with Kento Nanami

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (protected), loss of virginity, oral (reader receiving), fingering, age gap (legal - reader is college age), soft nanami

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 10k (bear with me here, it’s slow)

a/n: i apologise in advance for how soft this is, it is sickeningly sweet and a heads up, the writing style of this is a little different to some of the prior ones i've posted here...it's less horny smut in the way its written and more wordy? so if this one's not for you, it's all good, sometimes i just like to mix it up <333

The cool October air nipped at your bare skin as you stood out front of the crowded house, your angel wings from your costume rustling softly in the breeze. The party was fun, but it was getting late, and getting home was an issue. 

The problem was, you couldn't call your dad. He'd have too many questions, too many concerns about why you were out so late. Besides, the revealing nature of your outfit wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and you weren't in the mood to listen to a lecture.

Your phone hovered in your hand, a name already highlighted. Nanami Kento. Your dad's best friend, a reliable, quiet man you'd known for a couple years. He was the safest option honestly and maybe a part of you was pleased with the notion of calling him, of seeing him after the night's festivities. There had always been something about the way Nanami carried himself-so composed, so controlled, it left you curious.

You took one deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang only twice before his smooth steady voice came through the line. "Are you alright?" he asked instantly, as though he'd sensed something was wrong, just from seeing your number at this time. 

"I'm fine," you quickly assured him. "It's just. I'm at a party, and it's gotten late. I need a ride, and I really can't call my dad soo….”

There was a moment of silence, stretching the pause to its limits as he finally replied. "Text me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Waiting around for fifteen minutes in the cold had your mind racing. All you could do was hope he wouldn't say too much about your outfit, a white dress a little too short, with wings fastened to your back and a halo precariously balanced on your head. It had drawn enough attention at the party already, though you'd shrugged it off with nervous laughter. Nanami was an altogether different story, though, and the thought of him looking at you like this made you feel nervous.

Sure enough, in exactly fifteen minutes, Nanami's black car pulled up in front of the house. You quickly headed towards it, heels clicking across the pavement. As soon as you opened the passenger door and slid inside, his eyes raked over you.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said softly, trying not to meet his gaze as you buckled yourself in.

But Nanami's silence was heavy, and you could almost feel the weight of his stare. He didn't say anything right away, eyes staying fixed on your outfit-the dress riding high on your thighs, the soft glow of your wings innocent. His jaw tightened slightly, a barely perceptible movement, but you noticed it.

"Of course," he finally replied, his voice gruffer than usual, with an edge to it. "But that's quite the costume."

You felt shy under his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "It's just a Halloween costume. You know, harmless fun."

"Harmless fun," he repeated, his eyes darting back to the road as he shifted the car into drive. But the way he said it-twisted something in your stomach, a tension building between you impossible to ignore.

Nanami didn't look away from the road, but his thoughts were far from innocent. He knew he shouldn't be looking at you like this, his best friend's daughter, in a dress that didn't leave much to his imagination. Yet, there was something outright magnetic in the way you looked tonight-the way soft fabric clung to your body, pure white of an angel costume contrasting sharply with the rising inferno inside him.

He gripped the wheel a little harder, his knuckles white. What was wrong with him? You were innocent, too young for him- but the way you moved, the way you shifted in your seat as if aware of how you were making him feel, it stirred something primal in him.

"Did you have fun?" he asked way too calmly, trying to distract himself.

You nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Just got too late, and well, you know."

He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing along the smooth skin of your legs and then up to your face, lit up in a soft glow from the passing streetlights. He tried to keep a clear head, act like he wasn’t losing his mind over being this close in proximity to you. It didn't help that the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you, sweet and inviting.

"Your dad doesn't know you're dressed like this," he said-half a question, half a statement of fact.

You shook your head. "No… he wouldn't exactly approve." There was a little, nervous laugh in your voice.

Nanami grunted in response. "He wouldn't."

The tension between you both grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotion until it was almost palpable in the cramped interior of the car. Nanami couldn't clear his head. What would your father think if he knew how hard it was for Nanami to keep his thoughts pure? How hard it was to pretend the sight of you, in that tight little dress, hadn't set something off inside him?

You shifted in your seat again, the hem of your dress rose just a little higher on your thighs to catch Nanami's attention yet again as he had to adjust in his seat.

The car hummed on silently, but it was obvious that he was trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the pull between you both, and for some reason, you decided not to make it easy for him.

You shifted a bit in your seat, letting your legs cross; the hem of your skirt inched up just a bit more. You caught the slightest tensing of Nanami's jaw out of the corner of your eye, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the road.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile. "You know," you said softly, a teasing edge creeping into your tone, "I've never seen you this quiet. You always seem so assured."

Nanami's brow furrowed and he let out a short breath. "It's late," he replied; the words were clipped, strained as if he wanted to force the conversation into something normal.

You weren't buying it. His body language betrayed him-tension in the posture of his body spoke volumes his words never did. You knew with just a little more prodding-a test of the waters-he'd crack.

You lifted a casual hand to your head to adjust your halo headband, your fingers delving through your hair to do so, before you laid your hand on your thigh, letting the fingers linger as you shifted again, angling yourself slightly toward him.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice soft and laced with something a little too sweet, a little too insinuating. "I guess I could've called someone else, but… I wanted you to be the one."

Nanami's hold on the wheel stiffened further, and you could almost hear the battle raging inside him. His eyes flickered sideways to you, only for a moment, before snapping back to the road.

“Really?" he growled, almost inaudible, the tone low, a little threatening.

You nodded, biting your lip as you leaned closer, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you adjusted once more. "Yeah… I feel safe with you.”

There it was, the first gap in his well-considered armour. He said nothing for a moment. It was as if every unspoken word weighed the air inside the car down and pressed on both of you with its unspoken weight.

Then, wordlessly, instead of turning down the street that would lead to your house, he turned left and went in the opposite direction. You blinked once or twice, peering out of the window just to confirm that he wasn't actually getting onto your usual route.

"Um. my house is the other way," you said light, though curious.

Nanami remained silent for another beat as the car sped through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rougher than before.

"I know."

Your heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down your spine at the implication: He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing. And instead of taking you home, he was detouring off course on purpose. A decision he had made despite the battle that had raged in his brain.

"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was just starting to formulate in your mind.

"My place." Nanami replied in a low voice, very nearly too calm.

Of course his words only had one meaning, and you paused for a second, the situation settling into your consciousness. It wasn't a decision he had only just now considered. He had thought about this, about you—and the barrier he'd held up for so long was starting to crack.

A part of you knew this might have crossed the line, a line neither of you could come back from. In the silence of the car, though, that pull between you became impossible to ignore.

You swallowed as your heart raced in your chest, shifting slightly in your seat as his words sank in. "Your place… are you sure?"

Nanami's grip on the steering wheel loosened, but only for a moment as he let a slow, conscious breath escape. He cast a look in your direction then, something dark in his gaze-a warning, and yet, something deeper, something feral. "No," he admitted in a low voice with a trace of growl. "But I'm doing it anyway."

His place. He was taking you there, and implications that sent your tummy fluttering into somersaults of excitement and uncertainty when he said so. There was no going back once you crossed this threshold.

The time quickly passed and it wasn’t long before the soft hum of the engine stopped, and all that could be heard was your quickened breathing.

Nanami turned to you; his eyes locked with yours. In them was an unspoken question. He wasn't forcing you; this was something you had to step into on your own volition.

You nodded at him and he nodded slightly in return before moving to open the car door for you. His hand was soft and warm in yours as he guided you out. He took you inside and towards the lift. The silence between you was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was charged, alive with possibilities neither of you could deny any more.

As the lift opened onto his floor, Nanami escorted you down the silent hall to his apartment. His steps were sure, steady, but you could feel the tension emanating off of him like a coiled spring ready to snap. He hastily unlocked the door before gesturing you inside.

You stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you into the quiet, dimly lit space. Nanami's apartment was sleek, minimalist, much like the man himself-clean lines, understated elegance. It was intimate, private, and the thought of being alone with him here made your skin tingle.

You turned toward him, soft light from the city filtering in through the windows and casting shadows across his face. He watched you once more, his eyes dark and intense. A silent war inside himself as he struggled to keep his restraint.

"You can still change your mind," he said, low and rough. "Sleep in the spare bedroom- and I won't push this any further."

Your eyes ran across his face, before meeting his gaze. Hal of you screamed to close the distance between the two of you, whilst the other half screamed to sleep in the spare bedroom and never look back on this moment.

But this wasn't about lust or desire; this was crossing a line, changing the dynamic between you both forever, but one you were ready to.

You leaned in towards him, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. You took note of the quick rise and fall of his chest and the fast beating of his heart under your fingertips. His eyes darkened, his control slipping just that little bit more as he watched you.

"I'm not changing my mind," you whispered softly, resolutely. "I want this."

Nanami exhaled sharply, the last thread of restraint snapping as he closed the remaining distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch just as gentle as you’d expected.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin, as if giving you one final chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

With a low growl, Nanami's lips finally crashed into yours. He kissed you passionately as if he had been holding back far too long. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as he pressed your body flush against his, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.

The kiss deepened, and all the tension and desire that had built between you finally exploded in a rush of heat and sensation. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you succumbed to the moment, to him.

One of his hands had clutched your waist as he leaned you up against the wall, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was quickly heating up; everything was going so fast. And though you'd expected it, you suddenly became nervous, not knowing what to do, so you couldn't help but blurt out…

“I’m a virgin-”

Nanami froze when you uttered those words, the revelation hanging in the air like a weight that neither of you could ignore. His lips lingered on yours, but the urgency that had driven his actions moments before seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression torn, conflicted. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, the tension coiling tighter inside him.

He should stop. He knows that.

"You're a virgin," he repeated softly, as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. The responsibility of what this meant sank in, his protective instincts roaring louder than his desire. The weight of his role in your life—being your father's best friend, older, more experienced—should have been enough to make him back away, to put distance between you for your own good.

But it didn’t.

Despite everything, despite knowing he should be the responsible one and walk away, the pull he felt toward you was undeniable. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, the conflict clear in his eyes as they searched yours. There was something about you—your trust, your innocence—that stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t easily shake off.

"I shouldn't.," he growled low and hoarse, yet with an edge, a residual hunger he could not hide. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply as if trying to draw himself back in.

But when he opened them again, his gaze darkened, the tension between you flaring back to life. You saw the conflict, the war between what he knew was right and what he wanted more than anything in that moment.

"I-” Nanami continued, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch still gentle despite the storm raging within him. "This changes everything."

You could feel the restraint, the repression, but you could also feel the resolve slipping. He was a man who prided himself on control, on doing the right thing-but right now, you were making him question all of that.

"I know it does," you whispered, stepping closer, your body brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch. "But I trust you. I want this… I want you."

Your words seemed to cut through to him, and for a long moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, something neither of you could deny any longer.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "If we do this," he said quietly, his voice low, serious, "There’s no going back. I need you to be sure. This is… not something I can take lightly."

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his eyes searching yours one last time, giving you the opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. You met his gaze, your hand resting over his heart, feeling its rapid thrum beneath your palm.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice steady, filled with the weight of the decision you had already made.

The last bit of tension left Nanami’s shoulders as he closed the distance between you again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity. But this time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if savouring every moment, every taste of you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, but there was no rush, no urgency. He was letting you lead, letting you set the pace.

As his hands moved over your body, exploring with careful restraint, it was clear he was holding back. Despite the fire between you, despite the overwhelming desire, he was still thinking of you, still making sure you felt safe, cherished, in this moment.

Nanami’s heart raced as he led you to his bedroom, the very act feeling surreal. Every step was imbued with a sense of gravity, as though the weight of the moment hung in the air around you, thickening with anticipation and vulnerability. He was acutely aware of the fabric of your outfit, how it hugged your curves and accentuated your delicate features, your halo headband adding to the angelic aura that surrounded you. It was intoxicating, and he felt the primal urge to claim you, to make you his.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing against the walls as the city lights filtered in through the curtains. Nanami could hardly breathe as he turned to face you, taking in the sight of you standing there—innocent yet undeniably alluring, a vision that pulled at the very edges of his sanity. You looked like something out of a dream, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. The conflict within him raged on, and yet, as he looked at you—his angel—he couldn't shake the selfish longing that consumed him. Despite knowing he didn’t deserve to indulge in this, he found himself wanting you more than anything else in that moment.

As you stood there, your gaze unwavering, your confidence shining through your innocence, it was clear you were ready to embrace whatever was to come. Nanami took a deep breath, pushing the guilt aside. He didn’t want to be the one to hold back your desires. Not when you were offering him a chance to explore this connection.

"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to frame your face. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

"Breathtaking," he whispered again, almost reverently. The weight of those words held true as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. The hesitation melted away, and he captured your mouth with his again, deepening the kiss with a fervour that spoke of his hunger, of his desire to claim you in every way possible.

His hands roamed over your waist, trailing down to your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer. There was a desperation in his touch now, a need to feel every inch of you pressed against him. He wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way your body fit perfectly against his, like you were made for him.

When he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a fire in his gaze that reflected the storm within him. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice a low rumble, though he knew what your answer would be. Deep down, he wanted to hear it, wanted the reassurance that you were truly ready to take this step with him.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with a confidence that both excited and terrified him.

With that, Nanami leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. It was both gentle and consuming, a collision of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. The world outside faded away as he lost himself in the sensation of you—the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on.

As he guided you back onto the bed, he felt the weight of his own insecurities creep back in. He was an older man, your father’s best friend, someone who was supposed to protect you, not take advantage of your trust. But looking at you, lost in the moment, an angel who was willing to give herself to him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. This was a gift, a chance to experience something beautiful with you, and he would be damned if he let that go.

There was a sense of awe in him as he looked at you, your innocence and trust in him making him feel both powerful and vulnerable. This was different from anything he had ever experienced before, and it left him unsure of how to proceed.

He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch tender and gentle. "I promise to take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with the sincerity of his intent.

You smiled up at him, your trust in him shining through your eyes. "I know," you replied, your voice soft and confident.

Nanami's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you lying beneath him, the white dress clinging to you. The fabric seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, accentuating your delicate features and the innocence that radiated from you. His heart swelled with a mix of desire and reverence, knowing that he was about to experience something truly special.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone. The taste of your skin, the subtle scent of your perfume, it all combined to create a heady sensation that made his head spin.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, mapping out the contours of your figure. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, and it only served to fuel the fire burning within him.

"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "An angel, sent just for me."

You shivered at his touch, your body arching into his as you sought more of his attention. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Nanami chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Patience, sweetheart. Let me savour this moment."

He helped you with his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. The sight of his muscular form and you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

Nanami groaned at your exploration, his hips pressing against yours, the evidence of his desire evident in the way his erection strained against his pants, pressing deliciously against your thigh. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you. He resumed his kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing you skin ever so slightly. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I want to worship every inch of you." he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

His hands slid down to your thighs, bunching up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your smooth skin. He took his time, savouring the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch.

You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the intensity of his desire, and it only served to fuel your own. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the way his heart raced beneath your touch.

Nanami's lips found yours again, his kiss deep and passionate, pouring all of his longing into it. He rolled his hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I want you," he breathed, his voice raw with need. "I want to make you mine, to claim you in every way possible."

He tugged at the fabric of your dress, his intentions clear, but something held him back. The thought of ruining the delicate garment, of marring your innocence, seemed sacrilegious.

Instead, he let his hands roam beneath it, his fingers teasing along your inner thighs, higher and higher, until he reached your panties. He could feel the heat from you, the dampness that betrayed your desire.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his fingers already circling your most clit through the cotton fabric. "Tell me you're ready for me."

Nanami's fingers continued to tease and explore, his touch both gentle and insistent. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding to his every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin. The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of your combined desire.

"I want this," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Nanami- Please, don't make me wait any longer."

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words, and he wasted no time in responding. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, exposing you to his hungry gaze.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate folds, feeling the slickness that coated your skin. "So wet, so ready for me."

He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. Slowly, teasingly, he trailed kisses up your leg, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He couldn’t help but grin at every slight shuffle from you as he moved closer to your pussy, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your shyness.

When he finally reached your core, he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.

You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. Nanami groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.

He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, before dipping lower to your entrance, tasting your essence. He alternated between licking and sucking, his movements slow and deliberate, building the tension within you with each pass of his tongue. “So fucking sweet-” he groaned.

Nanami's tongue continued its relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. As your pleasure mounted, he slowly eased a finger into your tight heat, his touch gentle and patient.

Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The pleasure was intense, building with each passing second, threatening to consume you entirely.

He worked you slowly, his finger pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot deep inside that made your toes curl. The sensation of his tongue and finger combined was almost too much to bear, and you could feel your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Such a good girl.”

He added a second finger, stretching you further, his pace increasing as he sensed your impending release. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, one hand working your clit while the other drove into you, stoking the fire that burned within you.

Your moans filled the room, your body writhing beneath his touch, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your body tensing as you neared your peak. “Come on sweetheart, give it to me.”

As he felt your body tense beneath him, your thighs trembling, he knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth and hands on your body, the pleasure consuming you entirely.

Nanami’s voice was soft but commanding. “That’s it,” he murmured, his words vibrating through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Let go, my angel. Give yourself to me.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, your body gave in. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name, lost in the intensity of the moment. He stayed with you through every pulse of pleasure, his mouth working you gently as your climax washed over you, prolonging the sensation by sucking on your clit until you could no longer take it.

As you came down from your high, your breathing ragged, Nanami slowly withdrew his fingers, placing soft kisses along your thigh before sitting up. His gaze was filled with adoration as he watched you recover, his eyes trailing over your body with reverence. “You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “I could worship you like this for hours.”

Nanami leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away the single tear that had escaped during your climax and he couldn’t stop his smirk, you were so sensitive and he’d barely even started. “Are you okay?” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with care, “I want to make sure I don't push you too far.”

You nodded, overwhelmed with emotion, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. "I just want you, Nanami," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

His gaze softened as he reached for his belt, slowly undoing the buckle, his movements deliberate. He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation, any uncertainty. But all he found was the same desire reflected back at him.

He smiled softly, leaning over to the bedside table and going through the drawer before retrieving a condom and some lube, ready to continue, but ensuring your comfort every step of the way.

Nanami’s hands moved with care as he opened the condom, his gaze still focused intently on you, as if each moment was something to be cherished. His heart raced, not just with the heat of desire, but with the overwhelming tenderness he felt for you. He wanted everything to be perfect—gentle, yet powerful in its intimacy.

The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was the weight of trust, the sacred bond forming between you as he prepared for what was to come. You felt it too, that sense of something so deeply meaningful, and it made your pulse quicken.

With the condom securely in place, Nanami applied a generous amount of lube as he soaked in the sight of your body beneath him, your silk dress still bunched around your waist. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and reverence as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, full of love and passion.

“I need you to tell me if you’re okay, if anything feels wrong,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with concern. “Do you wanna’ be on top? It might be better for you.”

You felt a surge of warmth in your chest at Nanami’s question, his consideration only deepening the intimacy between you. His concern was genuine, and it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. The idea of being in control, of setting the pace, appealed to you, especially with the softness and care in his gaze.

You nodded, smiling up at him, the anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes softened even further, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. With a gentle movement, he shifted positions, lying back on the bed, his strong arms helping you climb atop him. You straddled his hips, your hands resting on his chest for balance, feeling the heat of his body beneath your palms. The vulnerability of the moment didn’t make you feel exposed—it made you feel powerful, like you were in control, but still cradled in his unwavering support.

Nanami’s hands found your thighs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin as he looked up at you with reverence. “Take your time,” he murmured, his voice deep and comforting. “There’s no rush.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hovered just above his cock. You adjusted and the sensation of his hardness against your pussy sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing even wetter, your body more than ready for him. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the initial stretch making you gasp softly and you had to pause for a moment before taking a little more. Nanami’s grip on your thighs tightened just a fraction, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt you take him in, inch by inch.

You slowly took more of him in, feeling more of a stretch, a slight sting from a fullness that made your body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. You could feel Nanami’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs, his silent encouragement pushing you forward, but never rushing you. His gaze was fixed on your face, filled with nothing but patience and reverence.

You glanced down, your eyes following the path of your own body as you straddled him, only to realise with a jolt that you weren’t fully there yet. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you noticed how much of him was still left to take. The realisation made your heart race, a mixture of awe and nervousness swirling inside you.

Nanami seemed to sense your hesitation, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, steadying you. He lifted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, his warm breath soothing against your skin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle but reassuring. “You’re doing so well. Take your time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

His words grounded you, reminding you of the trust you shared, the connection that went beyond the physical. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you slowly relaxed into him again, feeling his fingers gently massaging your waist. You could feel his restraint, the way his body tensed under yours, but he held back for you, waiting, letting you set the pace.

You lowered yourself further, feeling the stretch intensify, your body accommodating his size inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you took him in completely, the fullness sending a wave of pleasure mixed with a slight sting through your core. You paused, breathless, your body adjusting to the sensation, the initial tightness making you shudder.

The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. A deep groan escaped Nanami’s lips, his hands now gripping your hips as he gazed up at you with pure desire, mixed with tenderness. You sat there for a moment, letting your body get used to the sensation, and Nanami’s hands continued their gentle, grounding movements on your skin.

His gaze was filled with concern and affection, watching your every reaction carefully, ensuring that you were okay. He let out a low groan, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he fought to control his own desire, giving you the time you needed.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with restraint and tenderness. He leaned up slightly, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there, offering comfort and reassurance. “I’m here with you.”

You nodded, eyes closing as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, the stretch easing bit by bit as your body adjusted. The sting was still there, but it began to fade, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of connection. Your muscles relaxed, the tension in your body melting as you slowly started to get used to the fullness, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a protective cocoon.

Nanami’s thumbs brushed gentle circles over your hips, his voice a soothing balm. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

He was big, but the lube helped, and you allowed yourself to adjust comfortably. You could see the strain in his expression, the effort it took for him to hold back, to let you take the lead. It made you smile, knowing how much he wanted you but how much more he wanted to take care of you.

You began to move slowly, adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. With each shift of your hips, the initial tightness gave way to a deeper, more profound pleasure, but the fullness still made you pause every now and then, needing time to take it all in. Nanami’s hands caressed your skin, his touch comforting and grounding, encouraging you to move at your own pace.

As you lifted yourself up slightly, you felt a slight bit of discomfort that reminded you of the tenderness of the moment. Glancing down, you noticed a small spot of blood where your bodies met. Your breath hitched for a second, a wave of nervousness flickering through you, you weren’t worried, it was your first time, after all. Still, the sight made your heart race, if only for a brief moment.

Before you could say anything, Nanami’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his eyes soft and filled with concern. He had noticed your gaze and the subtle change in your expression. “Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay. That’s normal.”

His voice was calm, reassuring, like a gentle anchor pulling you back to the present. His eyes never wavered from yours, filled with nothing but tenderness and understanding. “If it’s too much, we can stop. You don’t have to push yourself, love.”

You shook your head softly, your chest swelling with affection for him, for the way he always prioritised your comfort. "No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice steady, despite the nerves that had briefly surfaced.

“You’re doing so well.” he murmured, his voice deep and strained with pleasure. His hands guided your hips in a slow rhythm, matching your pace.

Your confidence grew with each movement, the connection between you intensifying. The pleasure coursed through you like a steady pulse, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realised how much you enjoyed the feeling of being in control, of taking your time with him. Despite the initial discomfort, the intimacy was beyond anything you had imagined.

Nanami’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you but never forcing your pace. His eyes never left yours, watching you with a mix of adoration and hunger, as if he was committing every detail of this moment to memory. His quiet groans and whispered praises filled the room, encouraging you to move faster, to take what you needed from him.

The rhythm between you and Nanami deepened, each movement becoming a sacred dance of shared desire. As you rode him, the discomfort faded, replaced by waves of pleasure that seemed to ripple through your entire being. The connection you felt, the intimacy between you, was almost otherworldly—like something pure and divine. It was as if you were both part of something much larger than the physical act itself, something holy, like the intertwining of souls.

Nanami’s quiet groans echoed softly in your ears, blending with the sound of your own breathless moans. His eyes never wavered from yours, holding you in a gaze that felt reverent, as if he were worshipping you in this moment. His hands on your waist were not just guiding you—they were anchoring you to this present, sacred moment. The tenderness in his touch was a constant reminder that this wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about connection, trust, and love.

With each gentle rise and fall of your hips, you felt the tension between you building, a shared crescendo that felt like a prayer being offered to the heavens. The room seemed to glow, the soft light casting shadows that danced across your skin, making the moment feel almost ethereal. You could feel Nanami’s restraint, the way he held back, allowing you to lead, to take what you needed.

You glanced down again, noticing the faint trace of blood still lingering where your bodies met, but instead of worry, it felt like a symbol of something being born between the two of you. It was raw and beautiful in a way that made your heart swell.

Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words a low, reverent whisper. “You’re divine,” he Nanami's voice pulled you from your thoughts, his whispered words, "You're divine," he breathed, his hands squeezing your hips gently as you moved. "You feel so damn perfect."

Shivers ran across your skin at his praise. You had never felt so connected with another person-so enveloped in the pleasure, in the love radiating between you.

But with every shift it grew, not just from the physical, but it felt as though your very souls were craving for each other, entwining like a vine in a precious garden. Every word that came from Nanami was some sort of hallowed sound. His breath on your lips, hands against your skin...it was the kind of veneration one pays to something holy.

Nanami's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soft and soothing. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips-each one another silent declaration of love to you.

As Nanami held you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. You were his best friend's daughter. It came to him in a flash, momentarily pulling him out of the sacredness of the moment, but he shut it down, refusing to let it intrude.

He wasn't thinking about that now, not when you were here with him, your bodies connected in such a profound, intimate manner. The tenderness in his touch was real; the love he felt for you stronger than any sense of guilt or propriety. It wasn't about what anyone else might think. It was about you, about the trust and bond you'd built together.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple, a silent reassurance, as if it was a sealing of his resolution. Nothing was going to mar this moment-not the past, not expectations, not the weight of responsibility. His fingers dug into your skin, not in a harmful manner but in one speaking volumes about his need to hold on to you, to keep you close. "I'm here," he whispered-a quiet affirmation, yet a promise to himself and you, all at once. "I’ll be all yours-"

The words spoke of everything unsaid, all he couldn't explain yet knew in his heart.

With every subtle rise and fall of your hips, every time your walls clenched around his cock, the tension of the moment surged between you-a crescendo of shared longing that tugged along your very veins like a heartbeat. But as you got lost in the rhythm, you felt the change in Nanami's energy. "Let me take over," he whispered, voice low and full of promise. You nodded, breathless, feeling the thrill of anticipation at the thought.

As you eased yourself off him, his hands guided you gently to the side, and he shifted his position with grace. You found yourself lying back against the soft sheets as your heart pounded in your chest.

As Nanami settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. There was something of the power in his eyes, a quiet confidence that coursed a thrill through you. You felt vulnerable yet cherished, knowing he was fully present, ready to guide you deeper into this moment.

Nanami lifted your ankles up, with a deliberate care, and laid them over his shoulders. The position opened you up to him; it heightened the sensation as he moved in closer. A soft gasp escaped you in a mix of surprise and delight flooding the senses because the positioning allowed for a completely new depth of connection.

"Just breathe," he whispered, his tone silky and soothing as he watched your reaction. His hands wrapped around your legs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin as he gently pushed his cock inside again, sliding through with ease now. The angle was completely different, hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

His thrusts were slow and deep, taking his time, wanting you to feel every inch of him inside you. "Kento," you gasped, body instinctively arching toward him as pleasure mounted inside of you. This position allowed him to explore you more fully, each thrust setting off a fire that coursed through your veins, racing your heart and quickening your breath.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if he were committing to memory every reaction, every sigh escaping your lips. "You're incredible," he whispered, the admiration in his voice wrapping around you like a warm caress.

He quickened the pace with each thrust, and his motions grew urgent in his urge to take you higher. The tension coiled inside of you tighter and tighter with each stroke. Nanami pressed forward, his lips grazing your forehead before tracing soft kisses down the hollow of your neck, each one sending new waves coursing through your veins. "Let go," he whispered, the soft air of his voice dancing upon your skin. "Just feel.

With his words still echoing in your mind, you succumbed to the moment and the pleasure heaving upon you like a tidal wave. Anything less would make the connection between the two all-consuming; every thrust pulls you deeper into the bliss of shared intimacy.

As he drove deeper, instinctively, your body coiled around him, pulling him in closer, urging him on. You heard the quiet, breathless groans escaping from his lips, each a testament to the overwhelming pleasure being felt together.

"Just like that-" you encouraged, your voice trembling with need as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each thrust sending you spiralling further into ecstasy. Everything else around you disappeared but the two of you entwined in a dance of passion, a sacred union of body and soul.

He was taken aback by just how beautiful you looked, lying there.

“You really do look angelic," he breathed, staring at the way the dress clung to you. It was surreal to him-how someone so beautiful, so vibrant, could be here, completely vulnerable and open, just for him. The mere thought shot a surge of possessiveness rushing through him, igniting something deep within his core.

"I can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see you like this," he said, his voice low and husky. The unspoken implication hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A fierce pride swelled inside of him, a protective instinct that raced his heart faster. You were his, and no one else had the privilege to know you this way.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your legs, savouring it. "Knowing I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this-to feel you and see you… it drives me wild," he confessed, words tumbling from his lips in an fervour that even caught him off guard. It was not merely in the act itself but in the depth of your connection, the trust that you had in one another. He couldn’t deny this had sparked up a desire of possession in him for you.

As you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned, burying his head against your shoulder, almost bending you in half from the angle he had your legs now. The deeper he thrust, the more the feeling of you wrapped around him intensified. Every thrust reminded him of the privilege he held, and he never wanted to forget the feeling of being inside you.

It wasn't one of those moments that would come and go but a promise of what was yet to be, an opportunity to get to know the inside of your relationship in that way-in ways more than physical. And in that realisation, a surge of determination overcame him to always cherish you, protect you, and make you aware of how well loved you were.

The rhythm between you picked up, Nanami holding you close as he thrust deeper, pushing you toward the edge of ecstasy. Your reactions to him-the gasps and moans falling from your lips-caused his heart to race even faster, firing up a flame of desire that threatened to consume him whole.

“I don't think I'm gonna let you go now," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. You felt shivers run down your spine at the conviction he drew behind the statement, a delicious thrill coursing through you. It sounded like a promise, a validation of this moment being more than just a one night thing.

With every thrust, it was like he testified to the fact that he knew you were meant to be together this way, bound by something more real than lust. "If you’ll have more of me, I swear I’ll treat you right" he whispered low, truthfulness in his voice raw and palpable.

As he continued to move, the pace becoming more insistent, the heat rose between you. The way you surrendered to him, trusting him implicitly, made his resolve even stronger. He wanted to protect you, to preserve this connection with every part of his being.

“I want you in my life…properly" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his emotions spilling over. "I want to be your person.”

Your eyes met and everything just felt so right. You could see the honesty in his eyes-the fierce protectiveness wrapping around you like a warm hug. This wasn't about desire; it was about love, wanting to be together in every sense.

He continued to move, each thrust a declaration, each moment together a step deeper into the bond you were forging. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate movement. "And I'm yours, now and always."

He was putting every ounce into you, feeding the fire that was bursting to last between the two-this moment in the engraving of your hearts forever. Everything else faded around you, and it came down to just the two of you, entwined together in a dance as old as time, bound by passion and an unbreakable connection that seemed to be written across the stars.

With every thrust, the intensity between you became all too much. Nanami began to move with greater urgency, his grip upon you  tightening as he urged you toward the brink.

It was as if you could feel the pressure build up in you, spiralling tighter and tighter every time his cock hit that sweet spot inside you. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared breathing, the soft slapping of skin to skin, and the sweet symphony of pleasure mingled together.

“I’m not holding back,” he growled, urgency creeping into his tone. “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember this.” With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you both closer to the edge. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses, and you could feel the tightness coiling in your core.

“Kento,” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips unbidden. The tension was unbearable, a sweet torment that made your heart race. You could feel your body responding instinctively, tightening around him, urging him on, begging for release.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. “Let go for me.” His words ignited a spark within you, and you felt the wave building higher, ready to crash over you both.

With one final thrust, everything aligned—the heat, the pressure, the connection—and you felt yourself spiralling over the edge. Your body trembled as waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the space between you, as ecstasy enveloped you completely.

You held onto him as you gushed around his cock, the way you clenched around him drew him deeper into the bliss and he followed closely, his own climax hitting him like a tidal wave, surging right through him. “Oh God,” he groaned, the sound raw and primal, his own body responding instinctively to the way you embraced him.

He savoured the aftershocks of the moment, thankful in this moment that he’d worn a condom. And as the waves of pleasure began to recede, you were breathless and spent.

Nanami gently lowered your legs from his shoulders, his touch tender and deliberate. He cradled your ankles in his hands, mindful of the way the position had pulled and stretched your muscles. His fingers began to massage softly, kneading the tension away with a skillful touch that made you sigh in contentment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a blend of concern and affection. He looked at you with those deep eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both like a soft blanket, grounding you in the reality of what you’d just shared.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you felt his gentle hands work their magic. “I’m perfect,” you breathed, your heart swelling with warmth as you took in the sight of him—the way he focused on you, the care he put into every movement. “Thank you.”

Nanami’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at your words, and he leaned down, placing soft kisses along your ankles and up your calves, each press of his mouth sending a shiver of delight through your body. It felt like a sacred ritual, a way for him to honour the experience you had just shared. He continued to massage your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate care, ensuring you felt cherished and adored.

“I want to take my time with you” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising. As he kissed his way back up to your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and sincerity.

“You have me,” you replied, your voice soft but full of promise. “All of me.”

Nanami’s gaze turned serious for a moment, a flicker of something profound passing between you. “I don’t take that lightly,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You mean a lot to me.”

He paused, taking in the moment, the connection that thrummed between you. He quickly discarded the condom before leaning in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, tender kiss that ignited another spark within you. The world around you faded, and all that existed was the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the way he made you feel—safe, cherished, and completely desired.

“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Nanami whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady sensation that made you smile. You nodded, content to linger in this cocoon of warmth and affection, feeling utterly adored in the aftermath of your shared bliss.

The world outside ceased to exist as you both lost yourselves in each other, the echoes of your passion fading into soft whispers, leaving only the sweet sound of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

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