The moment you step through the door after a long, tiring day, you barely have time to set down your backpack before you feel a firm, warm weight press against your back. Aunt Nami’s arms snake around you, pulling you backward into a tight embrace. The softness of her breasts—full, round, and impossibly warm—presses tenderly against your shoulder blades, her curvy body perfectly fitting against yours like a second skin.

Her long orange hair cascades down, tickling your cheek as her breath brushes lightly over your neck. The scent of her familiar perfume—citrus and sea breeze—fills the air, calming and intoxicating all at once. She rocks you gently, swaying back and forth, and you find yourself relaxing instantly, wrapped in her affectionate smothering.

Her wide hips curve around your legs, the thick, strong muscles beneath seeming to hold you firmly but lovingly in place. You can feel the firm press of her thick thighs against your calves as she pulls you even closer. Her slender waist arches slightly to cradle you better, and her hands roam lightly up and down your torso, fingers tracing soothing circles on your shirt.

Without a word, Nami presses a soft kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The tone of her voice is tender but possessive, letting you know that this moment—this closeness—is hers and hers alone.

You lean back against her chest, your head resting just below her collarbone, the warmth of her skin radiating through your shirt. The slow rise and fall of her breathing matches your own now, the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear grounding you in the moment. Her arms tighten around you, as if to keep you from slipping away, and you feel a sudden surge of comfort and love unlike anything else.

Her lips brush against your hairline again, soft and lingering, and she whispers, “You’re safe here. Always.”