-->Though I quickly learned I had bigger problems than Alice cooking naked, when I discovered Nalani had wandered around to the back porch and was doing some herbalism at the grill. :O!! Fortunately, she was good enough not to set any mood-killing fires, and she and Felipe eventually wandered into the kitchen to chat with Alice (now clothed again, yay) and offer their help with the cooking. While Clement Frost did his best to snag some leftover fruit pie and grand breakfast. *sigh* Food's coming, good sir! Alice eventually finished the meal (getting level 5 Gourmet Cooking skill in the process, nice) and called everyone to the table --
-->Cue a mess as I tried to get everyone to at least SIT at the table without getting distracted. *shakehead* It took quite a bit of wrangling as Sims got distracted playing on their phones, going outside to check on the specters on the front porch (who were currently sprinkling their playfulness all over Angela Pleasant), and trying to get other food from the fridge, but EVENTUALLY everyone (well, everyone who could fit -- sorry, Nalani, it's a six-seater!) sat around the damn table. Oh Sims, why are you like this... Anyway, everyone enjoyed the food they had in front of them, and Smiler tried telling some stories about pirate captains and castaways, because it was actually Talk Like A Pirate Day on top of everything else. XD Neither of their attempts actually fulfilled the goal (they kept ending the stories early), but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves regardless, so -- win?
-->With the meal sorted, I noticed the weather was just getting worse and worse -- so while Clement, Felipe, Nalani, and Rory kept chatting to each other in the kitchen (and getting more leftovers out of the fridge -- guys, come on), Victor headed out back to the weather machine and cleared the skies before downing a Potion of Plentiful Needs to fix his exhaustion and other failing needs. With the rain tapering off, Smiler cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen, and Alice got her tripod set up on the front porch (ignoring the passing NPC kicking over their garbage can) -- and then, once everything was clear, I sent the gang out to the front porch to take some trio shots to fulfill the "take 20 pictures" goal!
...as you can see, first shot was kind of ruined by the appearance of orange tiger stripes all over Victor. Oops. XD Not sure WHEN he got sick, but it certainly made things a mite more inconvenient when it came to pictures!
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nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.
nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.
nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.
nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all.
nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.
nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.
nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you.
nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.
nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.
nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.
nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it.
nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?
nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence.
nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.
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cw: mentions of food, smut - minors do not interact
Author's Note: This is a super silly nanami drabble, don't mind me! just coping the best way I know how - with smut LOL. MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune.
Nanami always craves dessert whenever you do.
You’re staying with his family this year for the holidays, sleeping in the guest bedroom downstairs. In the middle of the night, you wake up, craving that extra slice of pie your in-laws saved for you, hiding like buried treasure in the back of the fridge. Not wanting to wake your husband up, you slide out of bed as quietly as possible, tip-toeing out the door and into the kitchen, turning the lights on to the dimmest setting. It’s a peaceful kind of quiet, the distinct chirping of crickets barely audible from outside. Someone snores upstairs, only obvious if you listen carefully. You take the first bite and break out into a blissful smile, savoring it in your mouth with your eyes closed.
Your ears perk when you hear the shuffle of slippers getting closer. Nanami appears, looking at you with bleary eyes and a small smile on his face. There are crumbs on your lips as you return his grin, sheepish for being caught in the act. “Hi,” you muffle, mouth still full.
He chuckles softly, stepping towards you. He’s wearing a very adorable set of flannel pajamas, ones that match yours. “Having fun?”
You nod, offering him your plate and fork. “Want a bite?”
He yawns, sliding his hands on your waist, pulling you forward to press a kiss on top of your head. “I’m craving a different kind of dessert. Something much sweeter.”
Oblivious, you take another bite, saying, “I think there’s some leftover cheesecake in there – ”
“That’s not what I meant,” he cuts you off, amused by your misunderstanding. He takes the plate from your hands, setting it on the counter, wiping the crumbs from your lips with his thumb, sticking it in his own mouth for a taste.
“Oh,” you utter, finally clicking. “Oh.”
Within seconds, your craving for pie is completely overtaken by Nanami’s craving for you. You’re propped up on the countertop, stripped bare from the waist-down, legs spread open for him as he eats you out, licking and sucking on your clit eagerly. His hair is bunched between your fingers, your grip tight on his scalp the deeper he devours you. One hand is pressed firmly to your mouth to hush your pleasured moans, the other has two digits buried in your wet cunt. He puckers his lips around you, suckling on your now swollen clit, releasing you with a lewd pop. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. So juicy, so delicious.”
You let out an exasperated laugh, breathing out onto his palm, gently squeezing his face with your thighs. “You’re so bad.”
“Only because you made me this way,” he grunts, removing his fingers to fuck you with his tongue, licking up every drop that leaks out of you.
“Fuck me,” you whine, impatient and desperate.
He drags you off the table, turning you around so that your back is flat against his chest, his mouth hot on your ear. He shoves the waistband of his pants down, releasing his hard cock, stiff against his abdomen. “You really want it? More than that fucking pie?”
You bite your lip, trying to contain your laughter. He can’t seriously be jealous of a piece of pie, can he? Not wanting to tease him further, you moan, “I want you more than anything, Kento.”
He hums, satisfied with your answer, before he tips your chin towards him, kissing you fiercely, guiding his cock inside you while his other hand plays with your clit. “That’s right. Better than any fucking dessert you can ever have.”
Okay, so maybe your husband really is jealous of a piece of pie.
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