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+---- Thread: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn (/showthread.php?tid=11928)
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-06-2025
The low sound in Kai's throat, the one that slips free when his cock slides between her thighs, is enough to have heat blooming through her with dizzying ease, her breath catching like a spark held too close to oil. And then there’s his hand—firm and possessive where it spreads across her belly, dragging her flush against him—leaving her with no room to pretend this isn’t exactly what she wants, because fuck if the entire point of going for daily runs wasn't to feel someone touching her like this.
Her thighs tighten involuntarily as her skin prickles beneath his touch, every inch of her going tense with restrained anticipation, though she forces her voice to remain playful as her nails scrape lightly back into his hair. [say]"Am I?"[/say] she breathes, not even trying to hide the smile curling into her voice, slow and sultry with a current of arousal laced through it. [say]"You’re the one who wanted to sleep like this."[/say]
But then his hand is rising, finding her breasts and the sound that escapes her lips is soft and helpless and everything she tries not to give too quickly. She’s still half-lost in it when he suddenly yanks her shoulder down, the movement sharp, catching her off guard. Maybe she would’ve swatted him for it, maybe she would’ve pushed back just a little, but then his hips are grinding into her from behind, the thick press of his cock no longer just gliding between her thighs but pushing higher now, slick and hot and perfectly poised to slip inside with only the barest effort. Her whole body flutters in response, breath catching as a sharp bolt of arousal cracks through her, making her toes curl and her chest hitch.
[say]"I’m only trying to help,"[/say] she murmurs, her smile turning wicked now as she presses her spine against him with purpose. [say]"You seem so tense.."[/say] The words are nothing more than breath as she tips her head back, the press of her skin there is soft and bare, offered like a dare, and when she speaks again, it’s in a whisper, coaxing and feather-light. [say]"Maybe you just need to relax..."[/say]
And gods, she hopes he doesn’t, because her hips are already moving, slow and deliberate, her back arching just enough to change the angle. She shifts with intention, catching the head of his cock at her entrance, and there’s no teasing this time, no lazy glide between her thighs—only the warm, wet heat of her body as she sinks back to take him inside. He fills her like he belongs there, slick and greedy and thick enough to draw a tremble through her limbs, her breath catching with the effort of holding steady. Control is hers (for now), and she savours it—the way her muscles flutter around him in greedy pulses, the way her arousal coils bright and burning low in her belly, a heat that pulses outward with every shallow breath.
One hand slips behind her to press against his hip, not to guide but to still, to keep him right there as she rolls forward with glacial slowness. She almost lets him slip free entirely, her breath faltering at the friction, only to glide back down with a sigh that cracks into a soft whimper, thick with need. Every inch of him feels like worship, like weight, like the grounding she never knew she craved until he gave it. And gods, it would be so easy to give in—to move faster, to ride the edge until she’s gasping—but instead she holds it, hips pressed back, her whole body taut with restraint as she clenches around him and lets the pleasure ripple through her again, molten and quiet and devastating.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-06-2025
Fingers uncurl from her shoulder without hurry, reluctant to leave their anchor on her so soon, but the tilt of her head exposes a new path in need of his attention. His hand slides along her collarbone, the warmth of his gaze following behind it, appreciating the view of her breasts just below which heave with each stuttering breath she takes. The motion continues, gliding up and around her throat, pressure light but persistent. He can feel the flit of her pulse just beneath, the pace quickening alongside his for every aching moment this craving for one another isn't fulfilled. It ends as a snug bracket against her jaw, fingers curving with her chin, thumb brushing near her ear. [say]"You're so helpful,"[/say] he praises, the sound exhaling out like a sigh more than something spoken, lips hovering just above her temple. His mouth dips the rest of the way down, kissing and sucking along the open line of her neck.
Everything tightens the moment she takes him. His fingers flex in against her face and his lips drag rougher into the dip of her shoulder, utterly swept away by the agonizing delight of her leisurely claim. His head drops against her back, a rough, [say]"fuuuuck,"[/say] hissing between his clenched teeth. The first sink into her is always a starburst of pleasure, but this, the way she takes him with such deliberate delay, it's something he could go mad for. His hand relinquishes its hold, needing a firmer line to tug on, one he can use to drive up into her. It splays back around her naval to do just that, at least, until her touch stills him.
Each warm roll of her grip against his erection sends a tremble through his entire body, a tumble of thunder through every muscle as each perfectly slick slide of her delivers lightning strikes into the core of his want. It's the casual drag from her depths to the near-exit that breaks the storm repeatedly, every part of him straining, flexing, to remain with her, chasing for more, for deeper, without being allowed to give any pursuit. The surge of relief is immediate when she contains him again, and it tears out of him with a shaking groan that he presses into her back.
His fingers twitch against her naval, barely able to walk this line where he has her, but doesn't get to have her. [say]"Fuck Flora, how do you feel this good,"[/say] the sound is jagged and forced across torn breath, the threat of a thrust just behind it as he presses in against her belly. Instead, he presses a sharp kiss between her shoulders, teeth catching skin as he moves his hand away from the temptation. He dips it lower, fingers sliding in on either side of her clit, rolling and applying pressure in tempo with her.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-07-2025
Flora should be revelling in the sounds Kaisel is making; his curse, guttural and dragged from somewhere deep, the way his breath falters against her skin like he’s the one barely holding on. On any other night she might savour the thought of driving him to the edge with nothing but her body and the unbearable tempo she sets. But this time, all she can do is moan, tongue pressed hard to the roof of her mouth to keep it soft, stifled, private, but the sound still escapes her, all the same.
He fills her like fire, like purpose. Every inch that sinks into her is met with muscle that yields and then tightens, pleasure blooming low and molten and slow. It pulses outward, warm and sticky, gathering in her spine, behind her ribs, curling bright and hungry in her belly. Her body knows him now, wants him in the most instinctual, skin-deep ways, and the moment his hand slides back to starburst across her stomach again, she very nearly gives in. Her hips twitch forward, the start of something faster, but she reins herself back in just long enough to feel the scrape of his teeth against her shoulder, and gods, that shatters her. Her breath catches, hips stuttering, and then his fingers find her clit and every muscle jolts tight beneath his hand, her whole body seizing with pleasure like a struck chord. The hand that had anchored against his hip abandons its post immediately, fingers threading into his hair instead, gripping tight like she needs him held close or she might break apart. [say]"Gods Kai,"[/say] she whispers, voice raw and shivering. [say]"I want you so much"[/say]
Her hips keep rolling in that unhurried rhythm she’s clung to so far, but the control is slipping, faltering beneath the weight of what he’s doing to her, of how good this feels, of how much she loves this. Loves being tangled up with him like this, their bodies joined and hands everywhere, her cheek damp against the sheets, his breath against her spine, and her thighs aching from the strain of keeping it slow. The pleasure builds in increments, steady and unrelenting, each drag of her hips locking into place another glowing brick in the foundation of her orgasm. It’s coming together piece by perfect piece, rising in her like tide over reef, soft and inevitable and so godsdamned good that she’s already desperate for the crash.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-07-2025
The instant her pleasure deepens and every part of her becomes momentarily taut is one that he appreciates immensely. It comes out as another moan muffled into her skin, head bowed to her back, nothing more than a man at his house of prayer. It's only feeling at this point, and fuck does it feel good. The tight clench of her around his cock when she's strummed just right throbs back through him, feeding his want into something he can barely manage. Each tilt of her hips drags velvet heat against him, still so slow that he can feel each lick of it in passing in sinful detail. Even her fingers, diving into his hair and holding tight, it tingles through him with desire.
Feeling her jump to his touch is always intoxicating, but this is the risk of a blackout. This isn't just him feeling capable of building pleasure into her until she's bursting with it, blissful and satiated for a moment by his design, proud of her undoing. This is her pulling him along with it, caught in each other with each tremble and every gasp, to the point that he's lost track of where her needs end and his begin and which is currently being fed.
With the caution of her hand removed from his hip he takes advantage of the new freedom. Not at first, letting her keep the pace that has set them both ablaze, but eventually he can't resist her any longer. His fingers do not give her clit reprieve, but his other hand that's curled beneath them finds a seat on her shoulder. [say]"Cum for me Flora, I want to feel it."[/say] His request is reduced to a shuddering growl against her neck as he drives up into her, filling her completely. He won't be stopping even if she does, already bracing for another thrust as his hand tightens on her, feet tangled up around hers seeking purchase amid the bed.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-08-2025
Flora barely registers the words at first—not the shape of them, not the order—but the way they sound against her skin. The rough slide of his voice beneath her ear, the demand wrapped in heat, in want, in everything they’ve been building toward from the moment he curled himself around her. And when he thrusts up into her again, hard and full and perfect, the pleasure that follows doesn’t spike so much as break, like a wave cresting at last and falling, falling, falling.
Her fingers tighten in his hair, knuckles paling with the force of it, her other hand fisting hard into the sheets. Her name is already shaking on her lips before she hears herself say it—[say]"Kaisel,"[/say] soft and broken and full of want—and it turns to something rougher when she thrusts herself back against him, chasing the heat even as it pours through her in bright, unbearable waves.
It’s her third climax and it still takes her whole body with it, rolling up from the base of her spine and radiating outward, high and hot and humming. Her legs twitch around his, feet tangling tighter as every muscle locks down around him—her belly clenching, her thighs trembling, squeezing tight around the weight of him like she can’t bear to let him go. The sound she makes isn’t sweet or soft this time; it’s torn loose and unguarded, a gasp shaped into his name as she cums hard, hips jerking despite her efforts to control them.
And then everything melts. Her body folds into his, muscles taut and slack all at once, breath coming in ragged, uneven waves as she gasps into the curl of his arm, his name still warm in her mouth. She arches into him instinctively, seeking the heat of his chest, the press of his body, like maybe if she wraps herself around him tightly enough, she’ll find a way to stay inside the feeling instead of letting it drift away.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-08-2025
The way she finally breaks is something that washes over him in full. Each pass of the waves, rich and hot around him, is a tide that pushes her out into rapture while pulling him further in. His face smashes itself further into her, just a smear of lips and breath as he tucks into her shoulder, the leash she's created in his hair curling him into her further. [say]"Mm, good Flora—just like that."[/say] The approval in his voice barely survives over the wrecked sound of his desire as she shoves back against him. She catches up on the withdraw, retaining him with even more depth now. The spark of it is so intense his teeth grate together with the force of the pleasure, his hand abandoning her clit to seize her hip, holding the way he's buried in her with a deep groan.
[say]"Floraaaa."[/say] More guttural noise than name as she locks around him, legs like a trembling vine, body bowing to the folds of their bodies. His hands flex against her side as he sets into her, chasing the last echoes of her climax and it's current, but this isn't enough any more. He can't fucking resist her, least of all like this, and he urgently needs to have her, more of her.
He wrenches her over onto her belly, never entirely leaving her, but settling above and behind with a quick readjustment. He takes a moment to let his gaze and a hand roam appreciatively over this new view, drawn to the dip of her back, now on punctuated display with her flat on the bed. [say]"Fucking hell Flora,"[/say] he admires with all the bite of a curse, fingers splaying against the curve of her ass as it rises up around him. His thumb cups it as he slides his palm from bottom to top, all the while sinking back into her slick heat fully and slowly. The motion of his hand tugs the cheek up, until it finally pops free with a fantastic jiggle. [say]"Mm—this is a good nap,"[/say] he grins, completely devious as arousal warms his humor. He picks up speed then, gripping her hip for purchase and bearing his weight on a forearm beside her.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-08-2025
Kai's praise, low and ragged, slithers over her skin like heat lightning, and Flora’s moans fracture into soft, breathless pants, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure that keep pulsing through her even as he fills her deeper. She clings to the last ripples, still caught in the tide, hips twitching with every subtle movement, like her body refuses to let the feeling pass.
The sudden shift of him though, steals her breath. Her hand slips from his hair to grab at the sheets, anchoring herself as he turns her over, as her belly presses flush to the bed and her legs part just enough to keep him. Her hips lift instinctively, the heart-shaped curve of her ass rising to meet him, and she gasps at the slow, thick slide of his cock inside her again. Her eyes flicker back toward him, sultry and half-lidded until his hand flexes around her hip, and whatever teasing remark she might’ve offered about napping disintegrates into another moan, parted lips catching only air.
She braces herself, elbows locking for leverage, back arching to give him everything. And when his hand tightens around her hip, Flora reaches for it blindly, curling her fingers around his and dragging it up across her body until it settles beneath her chin, then guides it further still, across her collarbone and over her shoulder. The weight of it pins her, his grip a bracket across her chest that sets her alight with want. The position traps her in him completely; hips anchored by his hold, body bowed in submission, every inch of her surrounded. She clenches hard around him at the weight and heat and depth of it all, her breath catching in a sound that isn’t quite a moan or a laugh or a sob but something in between, something broken open.
[say]"Gods, Kai—"[/say] The words are gasped more than spoken, her voice high and shaking as she arches up again, trying to meet him deeper. Her hand tightens on his forearm as she leans into it, breathless, aching. [say]"Fuck me,"[/say] she pleads, desperate and soft and blazing from the inside out. Had she been able to wriggle a hand beneath her body, he might yet have made her cum again, but no part of her was inclined to trade the way he so perfectly surrounded her
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-08-2025
The way she arches into him, spine curving in surrender, breasts pressing into the sheets, it sends a rush of arousal racing through him that he chases with another thrust. Her body bows so perfectly beneath his that he can’t help but groan, low and feral. The sound cuts out as her hand drags his higher, not certain what she means to do at first, but he lets her guide him. His grip climbs until she locks it across her shoulder, the new and improved angle bracing him against her like a yoke. Every inch of her is his to take, and he’s drowning in the sight.
When her plea leaves her lips his lingering restraint shatters. He thrusts into her with a sharp snap of hips, then again, faster and deeper until he’s pounding her open on his cock. The clap of their bodies rings wet and obscene, every slam jostling her against his palm as the force threatens to rock her forward, bedsprings shuddering with the effort of it all. His balls swing heavy and slick against her clit with each stroke, a constant buzz of friction for them both.
[say]“Fuck, Flora—gods, you’re—”[/say] The words break apart in his throat, swallowed by ragged breath and the sound of her gasping beneath him. He can’t stop watching the way her body ripples with every drive, the taut curve of her back, the tremble in her arms as she braces, the perfect way she takes him. His hand clamps harder on her shoulder, pulling her back into every savage thrust until it feels like he’s molding her to his shape.
Pressure winds tight around him, straining through every nerve until he’s right on the edge. He slams into her again, hips like pistons with desperate rhythm. His release hits like voltage snarling up his skeleton, bright and consuming, sparking out through every muscle as he jolts into her. Hips lock deep, cock pulsing hard as he jolts into her, his whole body rigid with the force of it.
He bows over her, forehead pressing between her shoulder blades, his breath hot and uneven against her skin. The raw edge of her name slips past his teeth, ragged but reverent, and he clings to her like she’s the only thing keeping him upright. His hand slips from her shoulder to curve gently around her ribs, keeping her close.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-09-2025
She’s never been held like this, bracketed and filled and fucked with such devastating purpose that every inch of her feels shaped by him. His hand locked around her shoulder and his cock buried deep, hips pounding into her with relentless force, it’s more than her body can keep up with, and yet she keeps rising to meet him, pressing back, greedy for every savage thrust. The sound of her name breaking on his tongue only spurs her on, a shaky moan rising from where her mouth is pressed against the curve of his arm, swallowed by the arm that pins her in place and the thick, obscene slap of skin on skin.
[say]"Kai—gods, Kai—"[/say] It’s all she can get out, whimpering and high, her words dissolving as pleasure lashes up her spine. Each time he drives into her she feels the stretch of him deep and devastating, his cock hitting some spot inside her that makes her body curl in helpless surrender. She clutches at the sheets, at the pillow, at the tangle of linens under her, anything she can find as his rhythm grows frenzied. Her hips lift to take more of him, to offer more resistance, more give, more everything, and then—
He pulses inside her, and the jolt of it, the way he stiffens and moans her name like it’s holy, sends a wild shiver through her. She gasps, mouth falling open, her own name on his lips wrecking her all over again as she trembles beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and weight and depth of him still buried inside.
For a long, breathless moment she can’t move. Her body just stays soft beneath his, pliant and flushed and unwilling to let go, her heartbeat thundering in sync with his. One hand slides from the sheets to his arm, fingers curling there, not to pull him closer—he’s already impossibly close—but just to keep him there. Held against her like a promise, like something carved deep into her skin.
Eventually, her breath evens just enough to laugh—soft and breathless, more disbelief than humour. She twists her head, lips brushing against the nearest bit of him she can reach, arm or shoulder or bicep, whatever’s still anchoring her to the bed. [say]"Gods,"[/say] she murmurs into his skin, too winded for anything clever, voice low and hoarse with pleasure. [say]"Why the fuck weren’t we doing this all along?"[/say]
It’s rhetorical, of course. The storm of everything that came before, the quiet ache of all their almosts, the emotional landmines of the day still humming just outside this moment. But gods—to be touched like this, to be taken and held and worshipped like this—it makes every missed opportunity feel absurd. Ridiculous. And right now, with her skin slick against his and her limbs tangled up in him, she doesn’t want to move. Another shower can wait. The sheets can stay ruined. All she wants is to stay where she is, feeling him inside of her, his heart thundering against her spine, the world narrowed down to the press of his body and the faint, dizzying bloom of her smile.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-09-2025
He lingers over her long after the shudders pass, plastered to her back, breath warm and uneven against her skin. The rise and fall of her ribs beneath his arm steadies something in him, a rhythm he embraces with unspoken adoration. The curl of her fingers holds him firm, keeping him in the center of it, not losing to exhaustion or pulled away by thought. Just here, with her.
The kiss she sets against him is light and fleeting, but it sparks something that spreads, turning into a glow that reaches slow and certain until he feels full of it. He can’t recall the last time something so small felt so impossibly huge, like it could eclipse everything else. A flush rises sudden along his neck, easily marked as just the rush of release and the thorough enjoyment of getting to it. It's the affection curling through him though, a heady buzz such that he doesn’t even think to move—he just stays, overwhelmed by the wonder of being hers in this way at last.
Her question drifts up between them, and he exhales a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a smile, low and breathless. He doesn’t try to answer why, because the why doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is this—her heartbeat against his chest, her warmth sinking into him, the world narrowed down to nothing but her.
Eventually, gravity wins out, pulling him sideways with a groan of contented weariness. He slips free of her in the shift, slow and unhurried, and then flops onto the bed beside her, tugging her with him at once. His arm hooks around her waist, insistent and sure, dragging her into the cradle of his body. Their legs knot together, skin sticking in places slick with sweat and maybe more, but he only pulls her closer, pressing his face into her hair.
[say]“I’m just glad we’re doing it now,”[/say] he murmurs, voice hoarse but soft with a depth he can’t hide. The delay of it is an accurate representation of how quickly every part of him is moving now, entirely doused in her honey. He doesn't mind it one bit. He turns, brushing a kiss to her temple, arm tightening just a little more, like he could fuse them together if he only held on hard enough. Peace settles over him then, heavy and sweet, and for the first time all day, all week, maybe longer—he lets himself believe he’s exactly where he belongs.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-09-2025
The second Kaisel starts to shift, she’s right there with him, twisting in the sheets to chase his warmth, her skin tacky with sweat and slick and none of it mattering in the slightest. She wriggles herself into the dip of his body like she’s always belonged there. [say]"Mmhmm,"[/say] is all she says at first, her voice low and melted with satisfaction, sleep tugging at her even as something in her refuses to let go of the moment just yet.
She means to stay still, to fall asleep just like that, but there’s something sharp and bright fluttering inside her chest. Not anxiety. Not fear. Not even arousal, though her body still feels like it’s humming from the way he touched her. It’s something more delicate, more dangerous—lovestruck adrenaline, dizzy and uncontainable—a kind of joy that won’t let her settle without looking at him properly.
So she shifts, twisting halfway onto her belly again, ignoring the stickiness and the protests of her thighs. She props herself up just enough to spy the flop of his hair, all chaos and copper and boyish charm, and groans a little to herself, not because it’s inconvenient, but because gods, even like this—especially like this—he’s perfect.
She rolls over fully, one hand moving to his cheek. Her smile starts slow, the kind that blooms rather than forms, curling at the corners like it’s being coaxed from somewhere deep. Her fingers sweep through his hair, brushing the dark strands back with a touch so light it’s almost reverent. [say]"I’m in love with you,"[/say] she whispers, barely more than a breath, but confident and sure. Not flung like confetti in a marketplace, not tossed with a wink or a tease or the roll of her eyes like so many other I love you's that had passed between them. This is quiet and certain and full of everything she feels when he touches her like that, when he looks at her like she matters, when he pulls her close and makes her believe there might be something here worth keeping.
It’s not just a declaration, but a line in the sand that marks where and what they were before, and what they are now. And she wants him to know it: clearly, unshakably, undeniably. Wants him to know the difference between the love she’s given him before in friendship—and even in the lifeline she'd tossed him earlier that day—and the in love she’s giving now.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-09-2025
For a long moment he can’t breathe. Not from the day, not from the rounds they’ve teased out of each other, not even from the thundering of his own heart knocking against his lungs. It’s her words.
He blinks over at her, hair fluffing around her hand with the motion, cheek puffing up around her finger. His expression is a little dazed, which might just be the portrait of a man thoroughly drained in every possible manner, but his is earned by the uncertainty of whether he just misheard her or not. The sheets and the sweat and the way she looks at him, still aglow with profound bliss, they seem to have blurred into some dream too good to survive waking.
[say]“You—”[/say] The single syllable stalls, splintering into disbelief. He laughs once under his breath, not because it’s funny, but because he’s overwhelmed. His hand lifts without thinking, covering hers where it rests on his face, pressing her palm harder to him like proof. Her smile, her touch, the certainty in her voice, it floods him until he feels like he’ll burst. He thought he knew what it meant, all the other I love yous they’d tossed between them before, but this is different. This is the sun breaking through after so much gray, and he soaks it in like he’s pale and starving for the light.
[say]“Flora…”[/say] His voice roughens around her name. He shifts her further, erasing any distance that could remain, and chases her lips for a kiss so deep with reverence he might need to say her last rites. [say]“I’m so in love with you, Flora Grace Kaito-Taliesin,”[/say] The words tumble out quiet and unpolished, caught with the pounding of his pulse, but they're truer than anything he’s ever said.
As he breathes her in though, some of the wild edges soften. The day presses back in—the grief, the storms, the unraveling, the way they’ve wrung themselves dry in every way possible. He knows she’s glowing still from the aftershocks, floating on euphoria, everything heightened and dangerous. He doesn’t doubt her, not for a second, but it'd land different to hear it stronger than a whisper he could barely catch, and it'd last longer to be offered it on a night where he hadn't almost lost her. He doesn’t need her to etch them into stone, or sand, tonight.
[say]“Sleep,”[/say] he murmurs after a moment, gentle now, voice weighted with a surrender that pulls even at his own lashes. [say]“We don't have to make this night last forever this time.”[/say] His thumb strokes along her jaw, his hold staying tight even as his head nestles against hers.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Flora - 09-10-2025
Flora's heart skips like it’s forgotten its rhythm entirely, then barrels ahead with enough force to steal her breath. She’s held her nerve through countless confessions—flirtations, admissions, even heartbreak—but this, this moment, this look on Kaisel’s face, robs her of every last defence. The joy that spreads across his face is so real and raw it hits her like a tidal surge, flooding her chest with something golden and dizzying.
And then he’s kissing her; not with hunger or urgency, but with a depth that knocks the breath from her lungs. There’s no heat to it, no frenzied spark, only the kind of slow, boundless warmth that melts through bone and settles in the marrow. It’s all affection, all reverence, as though he’s trying to pour his love into her with nothing but the press of his mouth, sealing it between them like a vow. And she feels it. Every bit of it.
The way he says her name is like a prayer, and gods, when he adds Grace—not only does it remind her that she owes him a hammock lesson, but about all the joy and laughter he brings into her life—something bright and uncontainable breaks loose in her. She laughs against his mouth, unguarded and radiant, the sound bubbling up like sunlight off seawater, like something too golden to keep. It spills between them, lighting her from the inside out, and she swears her heart is going to burst with how good it feels to be seen like this, held like this, loved like this. There’s no sadness tucked beneath it, no ache hiding in the corners. Just joy. Just him.
She’s only ever said those words to one other person. And with Jack, it had hung between them like a chain; something heavy, something he was forced to bear and tolerate. She’d loved him anyway, too much, too long, but her words had never been returned, not like this. Not with light and wonder and arms that wrap around her like they’re never letting go.
Her nose brushes his in the quiet that follows, her smile too big to tame, and her fingers twitch where they’re cradled in his, curling tighter as if anchoring herself to the moment.
The suggestion of sleep alone pulls a yawn from her she doesn’t manage to stifle, muffling it instead against his chest with a sheepish sound that turns into a soft kiss pressed to the warm skin there. [say]"You make a compelling argument,"[/say] she mumbles, lips still half-against him. There’s no protest in her, not now, not for anything. Just the thick warmth of contentment winding through her like silk.
She shifts easily into the curve of his body, a sigh catching in her throat as she fits herself snugly against him. Her hand reaches for his arm, draping it back around her like a blanket made of muscle and affection, and once it’s settled across her middle, she holds it there, fingers drawing small circles into his wrist. Her body radiates ease, her heartbeat no longer racing, only steady and full.
[say]"I really like this,"[/say] she murmurs, voice already soft with sleep and honey. Him. This.
RE: tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn - Kaisel - 09-10-2025
His grin spreads like a sail in the breeze of her laugh, racing away wild and free. It makes him feel like he could fly, the sound of her joy alone enough of a wing to lift a man to heights he couldn’t manage otherwise. It’s always this way with her—she finds the places he’s been fragmented and heavy, ones he hadn’t even noticed until she makes him whole and light enough to float alongside her.
Even when the gust of her smooths out into only a hush of breath, her nose nudging his, he’s still drifting on the thermals. The curl of her fingers keeps him tethered, an errant balloon otherwise. When her yawn sneaks out, buried partway against his chest and softened into something sweeter, it's too contagious to avoid and his own consumes him instantly, both of them undone by the same tide of weariness.
She’d worried she couldn’t match the dreams he built, as if he’d ever had any source of inspiration greater than the reality of her. The steady way her warmth seeps into him, the afterimage of her smile bright even as his blinking slows and lingers shut, the way she feels absolutely right woven in beside him—it's impossibly fantastic, yet it's real. She's here, with him, curling in like she's made to fit there, holding him as much as he’s holding her. With sleep on the horizon it's hard to believe he hasn't already sunken into a dream.
His smile twitches at the corners as she settles, her words an unsung lullaby. [say]“Mm,”[/say] he exhales, quickly slipping under. [Say]"Eally like ou an...ore ffff is an..."[/say] The words fall apart mid sentence into just a rasp and a mumble of jibberish. His arm tightens around her middle, more instinct than intent as he fades. His other remains limp in her care, twitching occasionally as she traces comfort with each pass of her fingers.
His breath evens against her hair, syncing to hers as the world softens and slips away, leaving only the steady truth of her body nestled in his, fantasy no longer.