#i have had the fridge so filled with food i look like such a pig i can’t blame her

[housecow]

the difference between these two 🥺 both??

funny story though. my roommate is still taking food but my memory is so bad when it comes to things i don’t eat myself (adhd)

when i talk to friends and family about the situation the first thing they ask is, “are you sure you’re not sleep eating?” which is adorable. they wanna believe, even if for a second, that maybe i’m not truly at fault for making myself into such a cow 🥺 i get it bc im getting very fat even with the thievery but at the same time. im literally being gaslit

[gem-magpie]

Look at how much of a fat, out of control pig you let yourself grow into without even trying. Through your own natural gluttony and greed you managed to stuff yourself huge.

Now, you've finally admitted to yourself that you love being fat and you love getting fatter even more. You even started gaining on purpose. You added more meals, more snacks, more everything to your already bloated daily routine. You purposefully buy food with more calories, carbs, fat, and sugar. While everyone else is reading nutrition facts to watch their diets, you're trying to set a personal record. You get excited when you check out at the grocery store and see just how much you plan to eat, and you don't eat anything that you don't know for sure will make you swell even fatter. You stand in front of your fridge, feeling your gut swell between your fingers as you chug heavy cream until you're huffing. Each breath is a heaving effort to lift your plump, ample chest and suck air into a space which is usually occupied by your overfed stomach. You sit in front of your computer all day, fat hips hugging the armrests of your chair, and look up more ways to get fat, fast. You look at how much fatter other gainers are, and you daydream about what it will be like when you inevitably match them. You pass the hours watching shows, playing games, but most of all, eating. You are never hungry, but you couldn't stop yourself from binging every waking moment if you tried.

You can't help but rub your belly, fondle your soft rolls, and wobble your gigantic thighs while you fill yourself. It makes you feel so proud to see the fruit of your unrestrained voracity piled heavily across your frame. It makes you hungry. All your impassioned self-care sometimes causes raucous, tummy quaking belches to force their way out. Once they might have embarrassed you, but now they excite you. They show just how much of an truly indulgent fatty you've become. You're in love with your own massive body, and you love it even more with every pound of fat you put on. Don't worry, There's no need to beg for more, although that is such a cute look on a bloated piggy like you. You're going to get so much bigger, and it's going to happen fast.

Shout out to @xavfox for really supporting me and my current brainworm, and happy birthday!!! I hope you had a wonderful day 🎂🎉

[lilfatboy100]

Junk Food Addiction part 1

It didn't take long for you to stop wanting to gain clean. At 200 pounds, you had a thin layer of creamy fat on your body despite stuffing yourself all day every day. I warned you about health problems, which only flustered you, and I warned you about your early death, which you didn't care about. The next morning I woke up much earlier than you did and threw out all of your usual food, going to the store and replacing it with garbage. You woke up to the sound of greasy bacon frying in a pan and hurried out to the kitchen where two boxes of the biggest, heaviest donuts I could find were sitting at your spot at the table.

You quickly ate them all and happily accepted the pile of bacon I made for you as well.

"Gaining like this is so much better already!" you exclaimed, your stomach still rumbling.

You made your way to the fridge and found it filled with everything you dreamed about having: heavy cream, candy bars, fatty meats, soda, cake, and more, and when you looked in the freezer it was more fattening delights: all manner of ice cream and frozen food I would bake for you if you asked. You grabbed a tub of ice cream and sat down at the couch with it, quickly polishing half of it off in front of the TV.

Throughout the first day, you ate anything you wanted and everything I put in front of you, which led to your stomach gurgling and churning all the junk it wasn't used to as well as bloating. You paid it no mind, you were more excited that you'd eaten over 5000 calories in junk instead of 3000 in clean food easily.

In only a couple of weeks, you started gaining like a pig pumped full of grease, gaining 10 pounds in two weeks. You'd never had a gain that big before, and it pushed you to keep pushing yourself to eat past your limits every single day in hopes to keep eating more and more calories. Your gain eventually slowed down to three pounds a week, but you were still gaining steadily.

To keep your gaining up, I made you stay on the couch as long as possible each day, where all you had to do was ask and I'd bring you food, whatever and however much you wanted. You were very greedy and always asked me for food, so I brought it to you. Obesity found you very quickly, and you kept going further and further in the pursuit of more flab to play with when you got bored.

It worked and you blimped, swelling to 310 pounds over the next year. For Christmas, you met my family, who were fascinated at your appetite more than concerned at how fat you were. You had your first major health issue at this point, because you had been so lazy your leg muscles atrophied and were swallowed by fat, meaning you could barely waddle without wheezing. You took this as a reason to never move unless you absolutely had to, and the fact that you had finally grown too fat to do much of anything excited you.

I found out about two weeks later when I asked that you wanted to be *more* unhealthy than you were, and that you were excited to start having real health issues. You asked me to make you gainer shakes, the unhealthiest I could think of, so I came up with a sweet shake. It was made of sweetened condensed milk, corn syrup, heavy cream, ice cream, milk, sugar, and some soda to thin it out, and it was packed with unhealthy calories that would clog your insides. You loved to chug it as often as you could, and you started blimping again. You also asked to have all of your food fried and all of your drinks to have extra sugar mixed in, both of which I obliged to.

Your first doctor's appointment after you started gaining led to recommendations for weight loss programs, personal trainers, and diets to make you healthier again and to lose the pure fat you had put on.

"Ha! Like I'd ever lose an ounce of any of this lovely lard!" You said once we got in the car, slapping your belly.

You gleefully chugged two pitchers of sweet shake when we got home after glutting yourself on McDonald's on the way, finally sitting yourself down with a tub of ice cream while waiting for me to give you the plate of fried food you asked for.

When you reached 500 pounds in another year, you had diabetes, hypertension, and an early stage of fatty liver disease, as well as having atrophied and drowned your muscles in flab and bring barely able to move.

[nana-kom]

Hiiii ! I decided to write a little fic for Halloween, it’s a little different, I’ll hope you like it ! 💜

This is a weight gain fic, if you don’t like don’t read. This contain, feedism, unrealistic weight gain, magic.

Trick or treat

Another year of spending his evening alone, Halloween night had become a living hell for Jisung. It wasn't that he didn't like the holiday; what he didn't like was having strangers barge into his house just because they wanted candy. He just liked to be alone and not have to socialize, and this year he'd been rather smart, turning off the lights at home and deciding to spend the evening in his room watching movies. Lying in bed, he enjoyed his free time and ate sweets (yes, he wasn't going to stop himself it was still Halloween right ?), and all he wanted was to have a clear, trouble-free evening. At least that's what he would have liked, because things were about to take another turn.

Jisung was half asleep in front of his movie, candy in his mouth, when he suddenly heard the doorbell ring. Once, then twice, then three times and enough times for Jisung to decide to leave his room. Fuck Halloween night, he thought as he descended the stairs to his house. Opening the door to find three boys his own age dressed as The Powerpuff Girls, he rolled his eyes and frowned.

"Trick or treat!" then said the one in the middle disguised as Blossom.

"I don't have any candy, okay? Leave me alone and stop ringing!" Jisung replied.

"Yes, but you've got chocolate around your mouth..." said the one in Bubbles.

"So what? Go and ring other houses, but leave me alone!" he said as he closed the door before feeling something block it. He frowned again before seeing the one disguised as Buttercup holding the door shut with his foot. "What's the matter with you? You're not too old to be doing this ?"

"There's no age for fun!" Replied the one disguised as bubbles, smiling.

"You don't want to fall under a trick, do you? You should give us sweets!" Jisung then began to laugh.

"What ? You think you're scaring him with your little-girl disguises?"

"Don't let the appearance fool you!" said Bubbles then, Jisung looked him up and down and rolled his eyes, this boy really did look cute but the contrast between his voice and his costume didn't make him believable.

"Listen, kids, I'm going to go home and enjoy MY sweets, but as for you, go home and stop pissing off strangers!" he said, starting to get angry.

"you'll regret this!"

"I'd like to see that yeah..."

This time Jisung slammed the door behind him before returning to his house, idiots, he thought then, reflecting on the last man's words. He decided to go to this room and he lay back in bed before resuming eating his sweets, though he didn't put the film back on, too busy thinking about what had just happened.

"Me sorry? Screw them, I..."

Suddenly, his stomach began to rumble like crazy, and it even start to hurt because the sensation of hunger was so strong. Even if he filled himself with candy during all the beginning of the evening, it was as if he didn’t ate at all for days. He didn't even have time to realize what was happening to him as he ran to the kitchen, opened the fridge and started eating anything and everything. He start putting what he has on his fridge, like rice from the other day, and ice cream from the freezer, he didn’t care to mix sweets with salty food, if it was food, he would ate everything. He then began to gorge himself on all the food he could find, taking it directly into his arms, the feeling of hunger taking control of his whole body. The more he ate, the more he felt the need to have food inside him, moaning and enjoying every mouthful and not stopping. From the outside, he looks like a pig, not thinking, not acting like a descend person just on the floor of his kitchen eating whatever he has. He didn't even notice that his belly started to swell and his buttocks began to get wider, so wide that he suddenly fell to the floor, which didn't bother him since he had to keep eating. He didn’t even notice that his delicate face, with its protruding jaw, had turned into a large double chin that completely covered his neck, and that even his fingers had become chubby. He was actually turning himself into a blog without realizing it. Jisung was too lost in the pleasure of eating, and his brain was thinking of nothing except putting more and more food into his mouth.

It took him several minutes and a lot of effort to stand up, his belly falling in front of him and each step difficult but worth it, as he get up he could help but letting out so much burp and sweating has he was having a long seance of gym. so he finally reached one of the cupboards before opening it and continued to eat candy after candy, chocolate, candy bar, cakes, cookies, anything sweet went into his mouth and turned directly into fat. After a few hours of stuffing, Jisung finally reached his limit and came to his senses. He frowned, not understanding, what has happen to him, and suddenly realized that his whole body had become a huge ball of fat, that he wasn't even a human anymore, but a pig who had devoured everything in sight. He tried to stand up, but found that his body was far too heavy, his arms had become two large lumps of fat that he could hardly move, and his belly was so big that he couldn't even see his feet, which were also enveloped in fat. His face was totally sinking into his double chins and he was reduced to a fat blob unable to do anything. Not to mention his breasts, which were so big and heavy, he himself had never seen them on anyone, of of course not on a man. How could a chest be so big, so big that they fell on either side of his belly, his belly that were so big that he couldn’t even lift himself from the floor. He didn't understand how his evening had turned out this way, and when he heard the door to his house slam he began to panic. He was naked in his kitchen because all his clothes had cracked as he put on weight, and he couldn't stand upright trapped in his own body. Then he saw the man dressed as Buttercup in the kitchen and felt vulnerable.

"Minho....why?" he then asked.

"All you had to do was be obedient, my darling..." he said, gently stroking his belly. "I see that this year you haven't been able to control yourself once again." He then moved closer to him before taking his face in his hands. "You're so soft, my little piggy."

"I...why do you do this every time?"

"Maybe I like seeing you so vulnerable when you were standing up to me not even a few hours ago...are you hungry?"

"I think I've eaten enough for the rest of my life!" he said then.

Minho then put his hand on Jisung's stomach, which began to gurgle again, and he began to whimper like a child that he was hungry. He began to let out moans and groans like he had earlier in the evening when he said he needed to be fed, except that this time he had someone at his side to look after him, and Minho was delighted to look after his boyfriend, who was far too fat to do anything about it. Minho, who had been collecting sweets all evening with his friends Hyunjin and Felix, then began to feed them to Jisung, who became calmer the more food he had in his mouth. He understood how much Jisung enjoyed eating as he watched him lose himself in each bite and the way he kept asking for more, no wonder he swelled up so quickly, he thought. Every year it was the same thing and every year, it must be said, he was always trying to push the limits of Jisung's body, but the pleasure was just as strong whether it was for one or the other. See, Minho was a witch with some pretty special powers who got his kicks on Halloween night, so he and his boyfriend had perfected this tradition every year, creating role play for themselves to spice things up each time. And he suspected that Hyunjin and Félix do that with their respective boyfriends too, who kinda had the same behavior as Jisung when they ring to their houses. Minho continued to feed his boyfriend, as if he were a baby unable to feed himself because he'd become too fat to do anything. Minho then began to caress his body and take each of his bulges in his hands, and Jisung moaned with pleasure. He actually felt his fat move against his penis and couldn't help but keep letting out moans of pleasure, realizing that this big body could give him so much sensation. Liking the pleasure of getting this big and let Minho having all the control on his body. Yes, he didn't like Halloween night, but how he loved the pleasure his boyfriend could give him.

"You should be careful when you're offered a trick or treat...baby..."

"Shut up and feed me, the night is still not over." say Jisung, which made his boyfriend smile, he loved Halloween night so much.

"Next year, I'll make you even fatter!" he said, placing a kiss on his lips before starting to stuff him again.

[mr2swap]

Pizza

I was in my own hell, after having walked around the neighborhood a couple of times I was completely exhausted, with my shirt so wet that the fishnets and my fat tits stood out above all my obese 10-year-old body and the worst, After all, it wasn't even my real body. I got home trying not to pass out from exhaustion, and the first thing I see when I walk in is my real body devouring a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni in my living room.

- Hey bro! Have you finished running? What do you think if you come here and accompany your older brother to eat pizza? I'm sure a slice won't hurt you! -

As I said, this was hell for me. When it all started I was the muscular and carefree older brother addicted to the gym and sex, but everything changed that damn day my envious younger brother found that damn magic necklace, tired of being the ball of childish fat that was swapping our bodies at once unknown way, for me it was the beginning of my nightmare I woke up in his small room and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the grotesque ball of fat that he called stomach stuck to me, I jumped out of bed while my belly bounced as I walked clumsily to the mirror to check that I was no longer in my body.

When I looked in the mirror for the first time I couldn't help but cry on my knees when I saw that I had lost all my work at the gym, all my diet, and all my self-esteem, but that wasn't the worst, when I was finally able to recover a little From my sanity I went straight to my room, everything looked totally different now that I was an obese dwarf of 10 years, the walls looked higher and my house looked huge now that it was half the size of what it was the night before.

I went into my old room and what I found was my younger brother using my body to satisfy his desires, he was masturbating frantically with his arms bent in front of my mirror, looking at his body sculpted by all my work in the gym, his huge cock I was glued to the mirror reflecting each one of my huge muscles while my little brother used my tongue to lick each one of those sweaty muscles that he had stolen from me the night before, he hadn't even noticed me in my room until he stained everything. The mirror with hot stinky cum that I had been holding in to fill my girlfriend's hot pussy.

I think it's been 10 years since my brother stole my body, he promised me that he would return my warm body when I put his childish and obese body in shape, but that never happened, I spent all those years carrying the obese and lazy body of my brother and went through high school again receiving insults and nicknames from his bullies like "pig" or "faggot" while he had fun at college parties, showing off all my work in the gym and using my hot adult body to fuck all the guys. College students from my school.

I couldn't help myself from eating greasy and delicious food and we both went on with our lives. I grew up an obese teenager watching my little brother take over my life and slowly come out of the closet to fuck all my friends at the gym while I struggled to lose at least 2 pounds on his chubby ugly body but his body is horrible I can't stop eating greasy food and playing video games or watching anime for several hours a day while my butt is getting bigger and bigger.

In the end I never got my body back, and, and I have already lost hope of returning to my warm and thin body, since then I have not been able to stop eating and crying, life as an obese pig is horrible, and now I am 20 years old, and I have not been able to lose my virginity in my brother's fat and loser body, I grew up watching how I adored his body, he fucked a lot of handsome men in my room while I masturbated remembering what it was like to be fit and have a hot and thin body... And speaking of something hot, is there any pizza left in the fridge?

In a couple of days, it will be my older brother's wedding and he has chosen me as his best man... I just hope I don't gain weight so that my suit will fit, although I suspect that my “older” brother chose me a smaller size just to remind me what an obese and loser that and been half of this life.

sup guys! I'm back with another one of my old stories, if you want to see my 200+ stories you can take a look at my patreon and support me to continue creating bodyswap stories.

[fatteningmenstories]

Benched part 2

Treating himself to the luxuries of his pampered life, Ajay had already taken the time to hire a full-term chief and housemaid, as well taking the liberty of slipping the chief something here and there to cloud the number calories in the meals he would serve if Devon of the question ever arose . The housemaid's job was clear keep the house clean and the pantries and the fridge stocked with all the snacky food Devon had sworn over the last couple of yrs, they had also been instructed to add a little something extra to Devons shakes in the morning but this again was kept hidden away from Devon. Ajays job was easy enough, he would wake up with Devon in the morning as the chief served them both the full English breakfast, which something Ajay always insisted on - explaining to Devon about the yrs he lacked the money to fund it for himself. He also had the task that while Devon went full pig mode on the fat sausages, stripes of queen bacon, the numeorus slices of toast and who could forget the maple-slathered doughy pancakes, he would go down on his throbbing member. He’d like to thing of it as conditioning the pleasure Devon felt with as his meat entered Ajay’s sloppy mouth with the feeling of stuffing himself silly until he popped and squirmed like his sausages in the pan . And when Devon was getting ready to leave, leaving Ajay with a kiss that smelt of bacon and sausage, Ajay admired his work of seeing Devon leaving stuffed with his bloated stomach tightly pushing out his from fitting kit.

“Okay sweetcheeks I’m off, enjoy yourself” Devon said as he pulled away and went to grab his a daily protein shake.

While Devon was out of the house for most of the day, Ajay should have been doing anything productive, however, he fully took on Devon's word to enjoy himself, lazing in bed all day stuffing himself with the pastries the maid will leave- and even having a bell put in to signal the chef to make a hearty lunch. And when the day was done, Devon would always come home with McDonald’s in his hand begging Karan to recreate their first date - and as the Ajays short stay turned into weeks the takeaway bag filled with greasy fast food got bigger and bigger. However all this was only the warm-up to dinner where chief once again outdid himself, it was as if the chief enjoyed stuffing BOTH their employers until there would be too full to even think about ringing his bell once more . Serving up stuffed lobster, glistening hams and deep dish of pasta served with heavy sides, followed by oozing chocolate cake or whatever sweet tooth the footballer and his rent-boy was carving. When the two had finally digested their glutinous dinner, Ajay and Devon would end the night by having hot steamy sex in their quarters, and it wasn’t only their affection for each other that was growing. Over the weeks as they continued to indulge themselves Ajay’s trim frame was bending under his fattening diet, with fat slowly spreading all over his body, covering his once exposed ribs and filling in his stomach, the same however couldn’t be said for Devon whose strict training regime was working overtime to burn off the extra calories.

“Daddy, Daddy, this isn’t happening fast enough “ Chad whined “ Devons barely putting on any fat hes just getting more swole, we have our first game of the season soon and he looks no different “

“Don’t worry Chad, let me sort this out with our little rent boy “

“Ajay! You have to be out of your mind , I ordered a fattened up jock gone to pot not a beef-cake footballer , pull yourself together , or the deal is off and I will go public I promise , and you can kiss that new lifestyle of yours goodbye “

Hanging up , Ajay gulped , deciding it it was time to go take things up a notch

“Honey do you have to go and leave me’

“Leaving so early, I thought we could have a round two”

“But babe the chief made an extra portion of food and it would be a shame to let it go to waste”

Ajay was pulling out all the stops, every day he made a new excuse to lure Devon into staying home and eat into his training time, he would drop the babes and the honeys like smooth butter to guilt Devon into staying home and riding the bell for seconds

“Okay baby just this once”

“Well if you insist, but this time we gonna try things a bit differently”

“I guess it would be shame to waste such fine food’

Devon didn’t know what was happening to him, but how could be leave Ajay here all by himself in this big townhouse, sure he needed to train but he guessed one day couldn’t hurt, and besides his personal coach had seemed to taken early retirement having apparently won it big on the lotto and was now jetting around the world. So he gave in to Ajays puppy eyes, and he was happy to do so as his stomach growled out for more food

It was just the day before an important match that would commence the new season , and as Devon opened his eyes he was met with the new and improved vision of chubbier Ajay, moving in with him was definitely plumping up his lover, but as he admired his chubby lover with rolls of fat and chubbier frame Devon felt his dick harden as he saw all the effects he was having on Ajay, they certainly won’t be running away with anyone else with this lard filled body. All Ajay kept was his slender face, his body was swelling at every angle, his once tender stomach was swollen and bulging over his tight underwear, it curvature supported his puffed up man tits His thighs were starting to become embroidered in small yet noticeable stretch marks that led to his growing arse. Devon only chuckled at Karan’s misfortune, he on the other hand was in the belief that he had the same body he had when they first met, coxed on by Ajay’s lies and the web he had spun. As he stirred to ring the bell- a feature he was quickly getting used to, he felt Ajay wake up beside him as their young chief started serving their 5-star English breakfast. Were the portions increasing or was it just too early in the morning to be thinking straight? Devon’s eyes opened widely as he stuffed the sizzling sausages into his mouth, each one more juicer than the other, he ate like he had been starved , coating his food in Ajay’s favourite maple sauce. As his Arms turned into machines, continually grabbing food from all corners of his plate into his mouth, he felt Ajay stir, abandoning his plate to perform his duty. It was like clockwork, as Devon stuffed pancake into his mouth his meat was being stuffed further and further into Ajay’s mouth. Finishing his plate in he quickly reached over to consume Karan’s leftover fueled by a hunger he didn’t know he had . And damn did it feel good. He came gasping at the sides of his bed as he came straight down Karan’s mouth.

Standing up he realised he was already running late for his training, he didn’t notice however that like his fattened lover his abandonment of his strict training sessions and his ravenous hunger for food was bearing its effect on his once muscular trim-cut body, his rock-hard abs had been the first to disappear and be buried in fat as the burgers and lobster went straight to his now starter gut, the disappearance of his abs followed by his once firm pecs which were now plumped up and were swelled up with pure fat. And as he got up to put on his newly gifted underwear he didn’t notice his meaty butt-cheeks that were supported by his plumped thighs, all over he was the image of a once jock gone to pot as he stuffed himself into his athlewear and yet he still remained oblivious to this, infatuated by his fatty lover

“Don’t go, I get so lonely without you “

” Ajay unlike you I can’y just laze around all day I have to train “

” But please, without you I feel so incomplete and what good is all this money and hard-work of you can’t spend your time with me “

Devon was taken back, it dawned on him that everything he ever wanted he got, why should he waste his time doing the same thing every single day.

“Fine, but I do really need to train“, he remarked as he ditched his tight sports clothes to cuddle in bed with Ajay who was already ringing the bell

As match day approached, Devon felt like in the worst shape ever, him and Ajay had really overdone it last night, it was as if the chief was using magic, the 5 course meal paired with a good amount of beers made him yearn for his sleep. Leaving Ajay sleeping in bed he decided it would definitely be better to forgo their daily feast of a breakfast. Even after his shower he still felt drowsy, shaving of his starter beard that he had been growing since he met Ajay was like a slap to the face. Was that, no way, what in the hell no matter how much he prodded it and smudged it the beginnings of his double chin was going no where, pulling his face close to the mirror he couldn’t deny his face was definitely fuller , his cheeks were rounder and his winkles were creased out . Stepping back in this new harsh reality he surveyed more of the damage, the cold bathroom light was not forgiving - gone were his abs gone were his pecs and gone was his waistline. He had plumped up all over a that food definitely found space to expand, running his hands over he was softer and dumpier, it was easily a pure gain of 15kg of fat, and the worst offender was easily his gut. The drastic difference from his trim frame of abs to his now rounded out gut that jutted out ,this was definitely going to be hard to hard.

Only grabbing a shake for breakfast and resorting to his largest clothes, Devon quickly fled the scene, what was he going to do, sure the damage was bad and it wasn’t going no where - finishing his shake he had to fight with himself not to help self to the pastries in the locker room. No Devon this is exactly how you got like this, but still his stomach grumbled until it was unbearable - sure one croissant won’t hurt, and if I’m gonna have one I might as well have two. This logic was exactly what led to only handful of pastries being left, but luckily his stomach had quietened down and now was time for his first test his kit.

He thought it would be wise to start with his shorts, it was all going fine until it got to his more sizeable arse - long gone was perfect square butt now his cheeks were plumped up and won’t fitting in no size 30, it took a lot of struggling and suck in the put them on - and dam were they tight but at least they were on. Putting on the jersey was a real shock he was used to the breathable loose fit -that was long gone, his wider frame filled up his jersey with ease and the biggest problem would be his gut, it jutted out a few inches and refused to be hidden. God he felt fat, checking himself out in the mirror he looked like a fattened up caricature of himself, what was going on.

In pre-training he kept it light, luckily his team failed to bring up his noticeable weight gain, but he couldn’t help but see the looks and whispering just out of earshot, Chad seemed to be the only one would bring it up

“Looks some needs to hit some cardio”

“Come on big guy catch up”

Big guy, god was it that noticeable, damn the diet starts tomorrow, and why was he sweating so much even after a few light exercises he felt as heavy as a truck. Sure he had missed a couple of trainings but he was the star footballer, what was going on and was that his tummy rumbling.

If Devon had felt self-conscious earlier on the pitch with the thousands of spectators now, he felt like he was being watched from all angles, and it didn’t help that he was far from his a-game - he was slower and barely keeping up with his team, he was red in the face after all the running he had do to keep up. He just couldn’t do it, running was like there was lead in his legs and he felt his fatty body sweat up and rub against his kit - and by time halve time was called he was panting.

A nil-nil start sure wasn’t the worst, but his team were wholly less supportive sure he had missed a couple of goals but surely it wasn’t that bad. Lurking away from the training room, he find a tv running - some commenters on the game were yapping on he didn’t pay attention till a picture of him for last season popped

“I mean look at his shape, fit prime and in charge’

“Now look at this”

A picture for todays match popped, a very unflattering photo he was red in the face covered in sweat and if they say the camera had 10 it looked like it was 20 today, he looked massive taken form a bad angle you could see his gut prodding out, even a bit of underbelly piped out, his sweat hugged the curvature of his gut and his arms and legs were giganitc and with the face he was pulling it like like had rolls

‘Im mean it obvious someone defiantly porked up a bit”

“Ha ha - he’s defiantly pigged out this off season”

“Oh definelty - Devon looks awful and it obvious affecting his play did you see him out there - he was sluggish and red”

“And did you see that backside - God it looked he had a bbl done”

“Geez yh, if this things keeps going I won’t be supposed if he is benched till next seas”

He switched it up, God he felt humiliated ( even a bit aroused tho - God what was happening to him ), He had to pull out all the stops this next halve,

And that he did, he ran faster and tried harder than anything, but still it didn’t work - 5 minutes on the clock and it looked like there was nothing to show but a panting red faced Devon, then suddenly in just the final moments on the game , he saw it - an opening it was just right. The entire world was still, he saw his moment, he felt his breath panting but he didn’t care. With one powerful kick he lobbed the ball into the goal, it went flying soaring straight into the top left corner. The crowd went wild, it was in - he felt on top of the world, but in his moment of victory he just couldn’t see Chad running straight for him, too fast to stop. He only saw it from the corner of his eye - second too late, it all happened so fast, like a train wreck, it all went silent until

CRACK………

[thegloriousninjaturtle]

First Lines in 2024

Welp, @delivish tagged me to give some sneak peeks in the making and thank goodness they did tag me because boy have I been writing! I know I'm practically silent on here, but I do miss Ao3 and I miss the amazing community in the fandom even more! Makes me wonder why I take a long long time to post (besides life being the apparent answer XD). Here are some snippets of two fics that will be posted soon!

A Series of Choices (CH.5)

Kenny lay on the couch, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he played Tetris on his phone, waiting for Karen to FaceTime him. It was eight in the morning and he had been up since five playing, his thumbs moving on autopilot, tapping the blocks into place. The smell of ash filled the room, smoke curling over his head, and for once, Kenny was glad to be home alone. It was a rare moment where he was able to smoke inside the house and no one was around to pester him about his habits. As Kenny tapped a line piece to the right of his screen, Karen’s face popped up on his phone. He moved his ash-filled cup out of view before answering the call.

“Hey!” Karen beamed.

Kenny couldn’t help but look surprised to see his sister’s hair now a different color. “Hey. White?”

“Sort of. It’s actually a really light pink. My roommates helped me dye it and cut it, too. Do you like it?” She asked, shaking her short hair from side to side.

“Yeah, actually. It’s different,” he commented. “So is that the first thing you did when you got off the plane?”

“More like the second. The first was struggle to unpack with two other people in a tiny space,” Karen said. “Here’s the full tour of the dorm, if you’re interested.”

 She pushed herself out of the way and her laptop was able to capture the entirety of her room right in its place. He was able to catch the lofted beds, desks, and crammed mini fridge all in one glance. Karen wasn’t kidding when she said she was shoved into a closet.

“That’s it?” Kenny asked.

“Yup. The only thing you’re not seeing is my desk, which you don’t really need to see,” she mumbled as she shuffled a few papers out of the way. “But that’s it,” she confirmed and moved back into view.

“Bet you wish you had your old room back.”

Karen gave a half-shrug. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m just glad I got roommates that I actually get along with.”

“Are you saying your old roommates sucked?”

“Yeah, because at least these ones aren't pigs.”

Forgive Me Father for I Have Sinned

In roughly thirteen hours, Butters will be standing in South Park’s Roman Catholic church, waiting to be wed to a woman he didn’t love. His mother has planned everything, from the guest list to the music to the white rose boutonniere on Butters’ suit. His girlfriend – now fiance – of three months has been teasing Butters about her wedding dress, telling him she couldn’t wait for him to see it and even more excited to walk down the aisle without her promise ring. They will say their vows and seal their fate with their first kiss. During the reception, everyone will gorge on gourmet food as they toast speech after speech, congratulating them on their big day. Perhaps Butters’ parents will finally tell him how proud they are of him. Butters and his new wife will have their first dance before cutting the cake his mother lost her mind. No doubt the baker blacklisted them from any future orders. A perfect tale for any wedding, except when his fiance will appear before the church doors, Butters won’t be waiting for her on the other side.

I'm tagging @lozislaw because I know you beautiful bitch have something in the making XD Of course, if you wish to keep it a surprise, we'll all be waiting with bated breath <3

[diamonddiv245]

Colliding Hearts

A/N: I figured that I can’t stay sad forever, I’ve got to carry on and keep pushing out chapter for all of you. So that’s what I’m going to do, this chapter is dedicated to you Lisa. I don’t know why but I’ve had so much trouble with this chapter, I just couldn’t seem to find a right flow so my apologies in advance if it’s not very good, I knew that if I didn’t post it no I would never end up posting it.

Chapter 6: Could it?…. I Mean……No!…..It’s Impossible……..is it?

“Y/N would you be a dear and fetch the bag of ice that is in the freezer please, I want to start filling the cool box.”

“Sure.”

Y/n Abandoned her place at a table where she had been helping several other volunteers to put helium in balloons and walked towards the gazebo where the makeshift kitchen was.

Today was the yearly Medford autumn fair, so y/n had been here since 7am this morning helping set everything up.

It was sort of a tradition in the Y/L/N family, Y/N’s mother had always signed the family up as volunteers, this tradition had been happening for as long as y/n could remember.

Even now with Y/N and her siblings grown up they still sign up every year along with their parents to help, really it was far better to sign up than having to face the look their mother would give them.

Pam L/N was a devout member of the town’s community council, if there was one thing she loved more than anything was organising amazing and elegant fundraisers for her community. Hence forth she expected the same level of commitment for her kids.

This year they were putting on a fair for the community, they had Local business setting up stall’s with food, baked goods, drinks, ornaments and other goods for people to buy, they had game stalls and live music, there was going to be a large BBQ for which everyone was welcome to as well as drinks.

Y/n made her way around the multitude of people who were busy setting up their own stall’s, she was able to spot her sister Rachel along with her husband Paul helping set up the petting zoo, well Rachel was more or less siting on a comforting arm chair whilst giving her husband orders, her 7 month pregnant belly had made it harder for her to do much heavy lifting.

Pulling back the tent flap y/n was able to spot the large white freezer easy enough, already the makeshift kitchen was packed with people busy looking the food for the bbq.

People were making slaw and potato salad, Mac and cheese, rib’s, burgers, hotdogs and an assortment of other dishes and that wasn’t even counting the suckling pig that was being slow cooked on a fire.

Opening the fridge y/n spouted two large ice bags, placing one on top of the other y/n heaved both of them into her arms biting her lip as the cold bags seeped through the thin Cotten of her blouse.

For y/n the journey back seems twice as long but she was finally able to get the band to the ice buckets and with the help of another volunteer both ripped open the bags and filled the large metal tubs.

Y/n would like to of perhaps taken a break afterwards but with the fair set to open in let than and go out she had to set up the ticket booth.

This year y/n had pulled the short straw and was placed on ticket table, her job was to take peoples ticket and give them a wristband.

However she wasn’t going to be alone, lacy was also manning the booth along with her.

Lacy Hidge and Y/N had been friends in school…. Well y/n wouldn’t necessarily call them friend but they had hung around in the same friendship group so of course they had hung out together with their mutual friends.

Much like Y/N lacy’s mother was on the community council, so both girls had bonded over their mother’s mutual love of guilting their children.

Lacy was already waiting for her when y/N approached and beside from slightly tilting her head didn’t give much acknowledgement to y/n, not that y/n took it personally Lacy had always been a woman of little words.

Soon enough it was time to open and already there was a crowd that was beginning to gather, putting in her best customer service face y/n smiled at the men, woman and children who were handing her their ticket and giving them wristbands or even taking money from those several passerby’s that had taken interest.

Them she was approached by someone who quite frankly y/n had no desire to see.

Michelle Matthews,the unofficial golden star of south Medford high school and y/N’s tormenter.

For all of those who say the popular kids always peak in high school they haven’t met Michelle.

When y/n said Michelle was the poster child of their year she wasn’t kidding. Y/n honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she had been born under a blessed gold star. Captain of the Gymnastics team and prom queen was only scraping the surface. Honour student and valedictorian, she was the girl who had it all.

And just when you think she’s finally going to be humbled what happens, she gets a full ride to Yale.

Michelle was the perfect girl and she knew it as well, this turned into a hobby of letting all those she considered beneath her know just how irrelevant they were compared to her, this unfortunately included Y/N.

Hair pulling, shoving and “accidentally” spilling her soda over homework or lunches was just a few of her favourite torments.

“Oh my gosh! Y/N it’s been so long. How are you?”

Not so Great now your here, was what y/n was desperate to say to the women in-front of her yet it was lacy’s gentle kick to the shins that made her hold her tongue.

“I’m great, how are you Michelle?”

Y/n studied Michelle from head to toe, stilettos that y/n was sure cost more than her monthly rent, a Chanel handbag and a cashmere coat but that’s wasn’t what caught y/N’s attention no it was the giant rock on her left hand. From the way Michelle was using that hand to brush back what looked like to be invisible hairs it was obvious she was showing it off.

“Oh you Know nothing much, I’m just in town for the holiday’s, you know sometime’s you just need to take a break from living in the big city not that you would understand of course, not all of us have the courage to leave the quiet country life, I hear your working at a bar now?”

County life?

Michelle made it sound like they lived in the middle in nowhere.

Oh how y/n longed to grab her prefect blond hair and just rip out those fake extensions, still it was lacy’s hand practically gripping her knees under the table that kept y/n rooted to her chair.

“Yes I do.”

“I thought you were planning to become a photographer, you were always carrying that stupid camera around with you.”

“I’m still planning on doing that but I need to pay my bill’s while I build up my portfolio.”

The patronising look that y/n was receiving from Michelle just made y/n want to…..

“Yes I understand, we can’t all achieve our dreams, some of us just have to live with what we have.”

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Y/n desperate to change the conversation gestured to the extravagant ring on Michelle’s finger.

“Oh this small thing!.” Michelle brushed it off as if she hadn’t just been purposefully flashing it at all those who passed. “Well my boyfr- sorry my fiancé finally proposed, you remember Chadwick don’t you.”

Chadwick, Michelle’s super rich boyfriend that Michelle met at Yale, he was almost at awful as Michelle and the one time Michelle had brought the pompous ass with her to Medford two years ago the man had not tried to his his distaste.

“I do, a true match made in heaven.” Or hell.

“What about you? Any man in your life?”

“No yet, but there’s still plenty of time to do all that.”

“Of course there is, your bound to find someone who will agree to settle with you but hey if it doesn’t happen I hear dogs are good companions. Anyway one ticket please.”

Y/n took the money and handed Michelle her wristband, despite to be as far away from Michelle as possible.

It was only after y/n had walked into the fair did y/n let out a Breath and slump into her chair.

“Still as pleasant as always.” Lacy joked from beside her, getting her a laugh out of y/n.

It was amazing how someone she hadn’t spoken to since high school still had the power to bring y/N’s confidence down.

“Ticket for one doll.”

Huh? Y/n knew that voice.

Quickly turning her head to see if it was who she though it was, y/n looked at the man I form of her.

Dark hair that unlike when she had last seen him looked thicker and more styled, dressed In a simple button down and slacks, looking 10x better than when they had last spoken after y/n had dropped him off at the church.

“Elvis.” Y/N breathed out.

Elvis smile was wide showcasing his pearly whites.

“Miss Y/F/N, it’s a pleasure to once again lay my eye’s on you.”

“What are you doing here?” Y/N almost winced at the abrasiveness. “I Mean I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Elvis didn’t seem offended at all which gave y/n comfort.

“Pastor John asked me if I would be willing to help out with the churches stall at the fair, sister Margret has come down with the flu.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind y/n knew she would be slight worried for sister Margret the elderly woman had always been nice to y/n but all she could think of was how…….. y/n couldn’t describe what she was feeling as Elvis stood in front of her. That magnetic feeling once again stirred up inside of her, it had been a feeling she hadn’t experienced for weeks, the magnetic feeling that always seems it follow ‘Elvis’.

It was only when she received a sharp kick to her shin by Lacy did y/n come back to the present moment. She had unknowingly been staring smart Elvis for goodness know how long. Her cheek were stained red in embarrassment.

To Y/N’s relief ‘Elvis’ didn’t say anything of the matter but that Doesn’t mean y/n didn’t spot the slight quirk of his lips.

Thankfully Lacy came to the rescue to save Y/N more embarrassment.

“That’s $10 please.”

Elvis handed over the paper bill and Lacy gave him a wrist band.

While this was happening y/n continued to look down at the floor begging for the ground to open and and swallow her whole.

Once Elvis had disappeared Lacy turned it y/n with a smirk and question.

“Please don’t.” Y/n begged.

“Well, I gotta give you props, he’s certainly handsome, let me tell you he’s got the whole-“

“Elvis look down to a spot.” Y/N Finished lacy’s sentence, yes she had already heard it before.

Everyone who met him compared his to the departed singer and the man didn’t even deny it, even with all these weeks that have passed.

Honestly….. y/n would not be surprised if some how it was acutely-

NO!

Her mind was not going there.

She will not even think about such a thing, and she most certainly hasn’t been spending her evening researching possible time travel theories and those who have experienced it.

Still there was a very cool theory that there were multiple universes and there were thousands of versions of yourself in these other universes, and when you experience déjà vu your actually linking with another version of yourself that has already done the task, anyway she was getting of topic it say’s that if two different universes crossed each-other and you were somehow able to link with the other universe’s wave length in the nanosecond timeframe then hypothetically you could end up in that universe, at least that’s what y/n thought it meant, all those words were big sciency words that only smart people understood.

By the time Y/N was finally allowed it leave the ticket booth the fair was already in full swing, Manoeuvring around the large crowds y/n went in Search of her family, hopefully they had saved her some food.

Yet she wouldn’t see her family for the rest of the night, and it would be after y/N’s entire world would get shifted on its side.

“Y/N!”

Y/n looked to where her name had been called from, and was able to spot pastor John waving at her.

“Evening Pastor.”

“And to you y/n, I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

“Anything.“

“I have to relive the old tank , but I can’t leave the stall unattended, would you be a dear and man it until I get back.”

“No problem.”

“Thank you.” Pastor John hurried away from the stall leaving y/n standing by it.

“Looks like we will be spending time together after all doll.”

Damnit!

How could she of forgotten he was also working at the church stall.

“Hey.” Y/M tried to sound nonchalant, like she had completely embarrassed herself earlier.

‘Elvis’ was leaning against the table with his arms crossed and grinning.

“I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but I must say you look just like a magnolia in May.” ‘Elvis’ spoke in the southern drawl y/n had come to like.

“Thanks, you look nice too.” She wasn’t even lying. “So how have you been, I know we haven’t had a chance to speak since you first arrived at the church.”

“It’s been swell doll, the folks there are real nice and have treated me well, I’m currently doing some work for the church mainly filing and bookkeeping but it keep me busy plus there even given me some money, what about yourself.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh you know, bartending mostly I’ve been dining overtime.”

Y/n did know what else to say, she didn’t have the money for hobbies and she didn’t have time for friends.

If he was out of with her short answer, Elvis didn’t comment instead he simply held out a mason jug with what looked like ice tea.

“I just got some ice tea but I don’t think I can drink it all by myself, would you like some?”

Well her throat was a bit parched.

“Sure thanks.”

She reached out to grab the offered glass.

Yet the moment their skin touched something happened.

It was as if electric was running throughout your body, then as soon as it was there it was gone, only to be replaced with memories that assaulted your brain. Yet they weren’t your memories.

A little boy running through the streets Tupelo, Mississippi.

A Ten year old Elvis standing on a chair with a microphone singing "Old Shep".

Elvis singing at Sun Studio

Singing for the firts time at Louisiana Hayride.

Preforming on The Milton Berle Show and the Steve Allen show.

Elvis shooting his first movie, “Love Me Tender,”

Elvis buying Graceland mansion

Elvis receiving his draft notice.

Elvis marrying Pricilla

Birth of Lisa-Marie Presley

Elvis preforming his comeback special.

Elvis laying in bed and then waking up In The woods.

The overload of memories come to an end.

The mason glass falls from y/N’s hand and lands on the ground spilling ice tea everywhere.

“Y/n?” Hands gently grasp her, forcing her back to the present.

Elvis is in front of her looking worried.

“Elvis.” Y/n breaths out.

Elvis gave y/n a crooked grind

“That’s me doll.”

It really was……. I mean how…….. why…… just……… I mean…….

Holy Shit! She almost killed THE Elvis Presley.

Y/n knew she probably want making much sense to the man if it go of her right now but y/n was badly making sense of herself right now.

“Your really him….. aren’t you.”

By now Elvis realised that Y/N had finally caught in to what he had been saying because his posture stiffens and an apprehensive look appears on his face, like he’s waiting for y/n to start screaming or running.

Perhaps that’s exactly what she should of done, instead she could only utter one word.

“Hi.”

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hi! I wanted to know how you think Sara and Grissom’s relationship dealt with his “science experiments” (like the blood in fridge) and bugs he may have had at home. Do you think he was more thoughtful once they started dating, or do you think that took more time?

hi, @happyladylourdes!

personally, i think that seldom do grissom's experiments really become an issue in grissom and sara's home life.

my reasons for saying so are fourfold:

i think we see evidence in canon that grissom does not use his home in the same way he uses his office at the lab (i.e., to store experiments and raw scientific materials).

i think that because of the way grissom's brain works, he is unlikely to carry that kind of "i'll do science any damn where i please" behavior over from a work to a home setting anyhow.

i also think ultimately he's already learned his lesson about being considerate of sara's feelings in that regard, so even on the off-chance he might be tempted to maybe put something funky in the fridge at their place, he'd probably hold off on doing so (or at least ask permission first), not wanting to upset her.

finally, i think that on the rare occasions grissom does do science at home, most often, sara is in on whatever his experiments are; what he's doing doesn't really surprise her because she's his de facto "lab partner," you know?

more discussion/rationale under the "keep reading," if you're interested.

__

so for as much as grissom is a workaholic who brings his work home with him mentally, i think physically things are a different story; on that level, he seems to maintain a much greater degree of separation between his personal and professional lives.

we see several different iterations of living spaces for grissom over the course of the series (not counting the ishmael), and, to a one, they are all supremely well-organized and don't very much resemble his dark, crowded office at the lab whatsoever.

though of course i cannot say so with certainty, my impression is that grissom (even during the period when he lives alone, before he and sara get together) keeps most of his "science stuff" in his lab office, where it will be of most use to him, conveniently within arm's reach should he need it for his investigations. it's there he houses his live insects, amphibians, and reptiles; preserved specimens; the majority of his entomological and forensics libraries; his instruments; his charts; and curios, like his irradiated fetal pig.

only a small percentage of his scientific equipage otherwise is kept at home, and most of this much smaller collection is probably on the more sentimental/antique side; the kind of stuff that may be cool to display for aesthetic reasons but not as useful to him practically.

while the same can be said of his early seasons condo(s), here, since it's most relevant to the question, we'll just focus on his and sara's s7/s8 condo.

from what little we see, there is no visual evidence to suggest that either one of them makes a habit of strewing anything, including science experiments, all over their living space.

while theirs is obviously a home where two scientists live, as is shown by the décor choices of shadow-boxed insects and antique microscopes and mounted fossils and cool rocks, they keep the place incredibly neat, with everything, including the scientific equipment, stored in its rightful place.

you can tell: that back corner by the two windows is the designated "science space," with the active vivariums and working microscopes.

but otherwise the rest of their house, well—just looks like a house.

the kitchen is very much just a regular kitchen, filled with cooking implements and food and cleaning supplies (though some of the items, such as the cloche by the refrigerator, are insect/butterfly-themed).

as we see in episode 07x22 "leapin' lizards," they have a television set in the bedroom. as we see in episode 08x12 "grissom's divine comedy," a sofa and another television set in the living room.

everything looks very normal.

in no way is their home "the mad scientist's lair" that one might expect.

all of the above so, my impression—and, of course, ymmv—is that grissom tends to leave his work stuff, including his experiments and raw scientific materials, for the most part, at work, or at least if he does bring them home, he keeps them confined to their designated places (like to that back "science corner" by the windows or his own study), where they aren't cluttering and contaminating his and sara's eating/resting/sleeping areas.

i mean, albeit we never get a peek into their fridge, but, barring a break from the otherwise established pattern there, i just don't see him treating his and sara's condo like a laboratory.

—and especially not because of how he tends to view the world.

again, while grissom is a workaholic, he is also a great compartmentalizer, at least in terms of his thoughts.

feelings are another story; far less easily confined into neat categories.

two of the main mental "boxes" he has are for work and for home.

according to how i understand grissom—and, once more, ymmv—i think one of the reasons he is the way he is at work, in terms of using the communal fridge in the break room to store science experiments, is because he tends to view everything at the lab as falling into the "work box."

for him, the purpose of the work done at the lab is to solve crimes using science. accordingly, in his view, every person and object in the building is supposed to function toward that end—hence why he gets so frustrated with both policies and people (such as, for example, administrators like ecklie) who impede the scientific crime-solving process; hence also why we sometimes see him make unconventional use of both lab equipment and human resources in his experiments.

for example, why not rope the department secretary into helping you prove a theory about how a corpse was dragged, even though doing so falls nowhere inside the bounds of her normal job description (see episode 03x09 "blood lust")? and what's to stop you from infecting your dna tech's feet with mildew if doing so will help you determine something about a potential suspect in a homicide case (see episode 03x03 "let the seller beware")? and if nick's eating an apple in the layout room, then who's to say you shouldn't demand he hand it over to you so you can stab it with scissors and establish some characteristics of a possible murder weapon (see episode 03x23 "inside the box")?

after all, they all work at/"belong to" the lab, so regardless of individual job descriptions or other considerations, they should, ultimately, be viewed as resources to be used to scientifically solve crimes; they are all "fair game" for that purpose, as far as he's concerned.

certainly, that same line of thinking applies to the break room fridge for him, as well.

though its primary function is to contain the food items of the people who work in the lab (thereby serving them as they scientifically solve crimes), in a pinch, if other lab fridges, such as the one in grissom's office, are full and/or unsuited to the task, it can be used more directly to fulfill the lab's "prime directive," housing experiments if needs be.

as i talk about here, "[grissom] sees no problem with [putting rancid blood in the communal fridge] because he’s just of such a one-track mind that science takes precedence over everything for him; the human element doesn’t even register (even as the team complains to his face, seemingly not for the first time, about the rudeness of his actions)."

the fridge is lab property; ergo, it can be used for lab business: so goes his reasoning.

however, the same is not true of his home living space.

there, everything falls into the "home box" and anything that may follow him home from work—such as administrivia—is marked as being out-of-place within his mental schema. while his and sara's home does have scientific objects in it because they are scientists with scientific interests, the home itself isn't dedicated, in the same way the lab is, as a space to do science in™; ipso facto, it's not "fair game" for him to leave science experiments all over the place there in the same way it is at the lab. the majority of the objects there have little or nothing to do with science and are instead meant to serve grissom and sara's domestic needs.

frankly, most of the time, grissom probably doesn't even feel the need to do science at home because he can always just go to the lab—with its superior resources and designated space—and experiment there.

doing science at the lab is not only easier but ultimately safer and more manageable.

much better to test his theories in a controlled environment with the tools, resources, and technology he requires already on hand—especially considering that any work-related science he were to do at home wouldn't hold up in court and would need to be redone in a more controlled setting anyway.

note: in the reboot, when we see him doing science experiments in his and sara's hotel room episode 01x04 "long pig," he is doing so specifically because he is, at that point, barred from doing them at the lab; the situation is one where he feels he has no choice but to do the work wherever he can, regardless of propriety, which is a very different ballgame than is in play at other times when he and sara are more settled and fully employed by the lvpd.

under typical circumstances, the only serious science he might even consider doing at home would be stuff he was pursuing either just for his own edification (because he was curious to test something out, unrelated to any cases or his general work as a criminalist) or for his academic entomological studies.

but even in those rare cases, i think that he would a) still relegate that work mostly to the designated science spaces in the condo, and, b) communicate with sara about it and not do anything that might freak her out/piss her off.

—because that's the thing.

grissom learns his lesson about this issue long before he and sara ever move in together.

his whole takeaway from the events of episode 02x15 "burden of proof" is that his actions (even ones he views as being entirely professional in nature) can in fact impact other people, and specifically sara, on a personal level. he has to be more careful about sharing space with her and showing regard for her feelings or otherwise he runs the risk of losing her.

he sees: bad blood in the work fridge can lead to bad blood between him and the love of his life, and that's something he never wants.

while it still takes him a couple of seasons after the point of the "raw hamburger debacle" to get his act fully together where sara is concerned, one mistake we never see him repeat with her again is the actual, physical action of making her deal with animal blood or meat; he is always, from that very early point forward, respectful of her vegetarianism and love of animals in the future.

that so, i've gotta believe: when they finally move in together, he's probably incredibly careful to make sure she feels comfortable in their home in that regard. he won't put anything in the fridge that might squeeg her because he doesn't want her to feel disrespected or uncared for.

should he ever feel the need to bring home anything even potentially objectionable to her, he likely makes sure to run the thing by her, and if she says no, he undoubtedly stores whatever it is back at the lab in his own office rather than at the condo because he understands: there is a boundary there.

and should he ever make a mistake, assuming that she'll be okay with something he in actuality ought to have asked her about, i've got to believe that he immediately apologizes once he realizes his error; unlike with the rancid blood in the lab fridge (which, from the context of episode 02x15 "burden of proof," seems to have been an oft-repeated offense on his part), he doesn't need to be told twice.

of course, as talked about earlier, i tend to believe that only very rarely does he ever even attempt to bring experiments or raw scientific materials into their home anyway, but on the few and far-between occasions when he does do so, i also think: by the time he and sara are together and sharing a home, she is most often in on his extracurricular scientific activities from the get-go.

the facts that she accompanies him to his apiary in episode 08x04 "the case of the cross-dressing carp" and in the later seasons applies for a joint-research grant with him while they're living in paris and works as his partner in marine biology once they are on the ishmael all suggest that at times when grissom and sara are a couple, she is his de facto lab partner both at work and at home.

so if he cooks up some experiment he wants/needs to do "off the clock" at the lab, then nine times out of ten, i bet he tells her about it and invites her to take part in it with him from the onset; it's not the same kind of deal as we see in episode 02x15 "burden of proof," where he is (largely inadvertently) stonewalling her and keeping her at arm's length. rather, she's right there with him in the trenches; she knows what's in that specimen jar because she's the one who helped him collect it and she's monitoring it right along with him.

now.

you may have noticed, most of the above discussion is centered on animal byproducts.

as for bugs—

i don't think sara has a problem with them, as long as they are properly contained.

not only are there numerous mounted and displayed insects visible in their s7/s8 condo, but sara herself also has mounted and displayed insects visible in her s5 apartment in episode 05x13 "nesting dolls," before she and grissom even become an official couple. there are also, seemingly, live insects in vivariums in that window corner of their s7/s8 condo.

she knew what she was getting into when she married a beekeeper.

in terms of how any of the above might change once grissom and sara live on the ishmael, i imagine that on such small boat, adhering strictly to the concept of designated space becomes more important for them than ever.

since the ishmael is not only their home but their floating laboratory, they undoubtedly do have experiments going onboard. however, they are probably careful to keep them where they belong, as out-of-the-way as possible, both for safety reasons (so they're not tripping over things) and also to prevent contamination/interference.

they probably have two fridges: one for food and one for specimens, both clearly labeled and on separate sides of the boat.

anyway, all of this rambling is a very long way to say: i absolutely think grissom is considerate of sara from the moment they move in together, with regards to how he makes use of their shared space.

any science he does in their home, i think he makes sure he has her seal of approval to do and does in its properly assigned area, most often with her taking part in the experiment right along with him. everything else, he does at the lab.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

p.s., you should set up a profile picture and header and post/reblog some stuff so that people don't mistake you for a bot and block you! if you have questions about how to do so, let me know, and i'd be happy to help.

[ralucasalmostgone]

I mean,

lemme sum this up so you get who they are (character flaws and shortcomings and all)

so like...

it goes like this (and also for contrast I'm adding my group in parallel)

1 Nela (aka Mirela) Manole - is evil incarnate. and I'm not exaggerating. she has two voices: one for inside the house, one for the outside (the polite, sweet kind though she is anything but inside the house!) total phoney. picks on people that take bribes in her workplace because she would be too cowardly to get any so instead she calls herself fair. then she calls herself truthful when she says every spiteful mean thing that comes to mind against others.

if she sees me, she only insults my physical apperance. if she sees me wear new clothes, she insults the way they look on me.

from the future, I made her work at least three different types of jobs, 2 almost at the same time. I worked her to death but to avail. she only loves numbers when she's doing accounting, carnations and Indian music. my previous self displaces her hatred of her onto these innocent objects because psychology.

my previous self hates her and sees through her. the perception updates from her seeing her as a paranoid evil female (possibly bipolar) to an uncultured rural bitch.

she's obsessed with making money and nothing else (hence accounting). she goes up the ranks quickly but I make her from the future reject a position close to the president of Romania because I can.

truly the stereotype of the evil queen in Snow White's story and the inspiration behind it.

there's no redeeming quality about her. BUT she wants all the praise anyway for working enough to pay for stuff.

when I was younger, I won a competition so I had money so I bought my family food from it because I remembered this one time Nela forgot to fill the fridge. they were grateful, my previous self perceived Nela was pissed off when it comes to it!

she was always afraid of being supplanted as the matriarch of the house.

she was always afraid of being supplanted physical apperance-wise (Snow White Queen-like)

---

the hateful bird? she's just the soul of a woman we think was a black woman based on her features and traits.

she thinks she's me. she confuses herself with me, physical apperance-wise.

I don't have a real human mother, but if I did, based on my own traits, it would look a lot like her.

---

2 Liviu Marian Manole - bully, too many personalities, would side with me back in time but only if you don't piss him off. very lazy in school, lazy even later. rides the wave of nepotism until he can't anymore.

eventually gets a degree in Psychology, much like Nela does in Accounting. but it was too little, too late and the rest of the time, I forced him from the future to work one type of menial job his entire life. he got up the ranks though: became the boss (just like Nela) of his own shit work place.

but then, I also added another circumstance where I made him resign out of pride because they accused him unfairly of something. and he was dumb enough to quit after being exonerated.

he gives up quickly like he gave up studying when he was younger for a chess match.

he's a quitter

and when he quits, he turns on the TV and watches mindlessly a bunch of TV shows - much like how because of him, I have to spend years getting unstuck from where he got me stuck. but he doesn't watch like regular humans and Nela gets mind diseased to not be able to focus on the TV as it plays and get lost it in, as Liviu does.

and then he waits for food to be made by Nela. and then they stuff themselves up, like the pigs that they are.

I don't need his help for studying. He praises me without realising, when it comes to how good I am at intellectual whatnot and subjects.

----

the spirit: he was left in charge of being my eyes, my thief of me, my shared perception with males of what's going on, my voice in the world, my designer inside humans of various things, my knowledge dispenser

---

3 Andreea Aura Manole - bully, like a male bully instead. really dumb. not perceptive - so enrages her father often because of this type of narcissistic stupidity

steals my ideas for my future

wants to get rich

gets along with her mother in a messed up fashion (the mother's cheap with compliments or appraisal)

only opens her mouth to insult me and my physical apperance or to plainly say "no".

---

---

The Lamb - a heroic type of person. thinks God's apperance right now is his wife, so that he has rights that no one else does. hence his seemingly unLord-like behaviour to barge in though he's a Lord too.

does not like non-Lord-like individuals, males included

---

---

and lastly MEEE:

4 Raluca Ioana - the youngest of the family. totally carefree. apathetic, somewhat tomboyish for only getting along with the father. GOD: oh so creative. totally breaks all the rules that were imposed on her by either parent. half of a mentalist that way (knows what they're thinking in order to deceive them better)

social outside of the family

does really well in school and gets too independent afterwards studying-wise

moves a lot

doesn't move her face a lot because of too much perceiving

is really empathetic

and knowledgeable

and people stalk her cause she's pretty too

is actually a Lord (of Lords) like the Lamb too

becomes everyone's Controller (of Controllers) - King of Kings in time

Justice-driven

unlike all the current humans, she's only spirit-made, not a hateful bird. hence her ability to control all the souls of people

another after effect of that is her not showing up on camera at all, if she doesn't want to

The Word Of God

---

Jesus - the other candle/empathetic person and Word Of God

Alpha God - the first God

[hqbbg]

still.

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

prompt: “I told you to stay still.”

genre: smut

word count: 5.3K (I got carried away, oops)

warnings: 18+, masturbation, some degradation, oral (f!receiving), fingering, some spanking, vaginal & unprotected s3x (make sure you wrap your presents, kids), like 2 seconds of cockwarming, uhm I think that’s it oop

author’s note: I'm back with another Haikyuu!! Headquarters collab piece! check out the master list of everyone else’s works here ✨ I hope y’all enjoy this!

The air in your room feels thick as you pant helplessly, feeling the familiar ache in your fingers as they begin to cramp up while plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. You feel so close to your own undoing, unable to control your thoughts as they drift to the man whose room is on the other side of your bedroom wall. You can’t help but think that it’s his fingers squelching within your warmth, though you’re sure they would reach much further than yours ever could.

You don’t do this often, touching yourself to the thought of your roommate while he’s out at work or running errands, but lately you’ve been frustrated.

When you had put out an ad for a roommate, you were hesitant. You didn’t have much of a choice, as your last roommate decided to move out in favor of moving in with her boyfriend, leaving you to scramble for a solution in order to continue to afford rent. As a full-time student with a part time job, it would’ve been inconvenient to move out in the middle of the semester, and it seemed reasonable to quickly search for a roommate to help with the bills until your lease was up.

Miya Osamu was hot, to say the least, though it wasn’t the main reason why you ended up choosing him to be your new roommate. On top of having manners and being financially stable, he knew how to cook and respected your space in the apartment. Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to say the same recently. The number of times his room door was cracked open as he changed almost made you consider that he was doing it on purpose, as if encouraging you to take a peek.

As you recall the way his back muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head all those times you’d told yourself that you were just walking by, you let another moan slip past your lips. Your fingers begin to move quicker, toes curling, and you can feel your arm beginning to tire out. Your back arches as your other hand quickly moves to massage your neglected clit, rubbing harsh circles until your vision flashes white.

You fail to hear the front door open and close as your moans continue to fill the room. The memory of seeing Osamu stepping out of the bathroom in a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a towel around his neck is still fresh on your mind. You feel yourself clench around your own fingers as you recall your eyes briefly catching sight of the outline of his cock, the image practically ingrained within you. Too many times have you thought about how it would feel inside of you.

Another moan resonates on the walls and you bite your lip, though it does little to stop you from moaning Osamu’s name. Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed by pleasure and your whole body tenses before it relaxes. Your chest heaves as you lay there, trying to recover from your intense orgasm and you want nothing more than to sleep now. You hardly notice that your door is open.

Over the next few days, you can’t help but feel that something is off with Osamu. Though you aren’t particularly close, you’d like to think that you two have developed some sort of friendship with all the shared meals and evenings spent in the living room just chatting about life.

Did he hear you the other night? There was no way; you made sure to give yourself enough time before he was supposed to come home. Then again, you didn’t hear him come in…

Your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that he’d heard you. You let out a groan as you bury your face in your hands, leaning onto your desk. The little motivation you had to study has effectively disappeared and an unsettling mix of nervousness and shame begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you try to push the dreadful thought out of your head and sit upright. An idea suddenly pops into your head and you abruptly stand up. You walk over to your door and poke your head out, scanning the area to locate your roommate. He’s conveniently in the kitchen, snacking on some leftovers he’d brought back from his restaurant the previous night.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly as you step out. He looks over at you and hums in acknowledgement, his mouth full. You decide to go ahead and speak, though your fingers fidget with the hem of your oversized shirt. “You’re not working tomorrow night, right?”

Osamu shakes his head, swallowing his food. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you hesitate, trying to find a way to come off as casually as you can, “I saw this recipe online for some salmon and vegetables, do you wanna be my guinea pig?”

“Sure,” he nods as he shrugs. “What time?”

“Dinner time,” you say, a little too eagerly. “How about seven?”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You watch as he takes another bite of his food before you realize you’re staring, clearing your throat.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” you say and quickly scurry back towards your room. Once you shut the door, you release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. You swiftly move back to your desk, your forgotten notes pushed even further aside as you begin to look for that recipe you’d seen all those weeks ago.

The following day, you make a quick trip to the store to buy ingredients and find yourself nervously counting down the hours and minutes until it’s a reasonable time to start making dinner. You step out of your room to see Osamu already perched on a stool at the small island in the kitchen. He’s slouched over, scrolling through his phone when you walk up. He glances up and greets you with a small smile as you place your phone down near the center of the island countertop.

“Okay, so before I start, I just need to say that I’m definitely not a professional chef in any way,” you say as you move to wash your hands. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, pulling the vegetables from the fridge. You grab the apron hanging on the pantry door and sling it over your head, tying it behind your back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya wear that,” Osamu muses as he leans his cheek on his palm. His elbows are both propped up on the counter and you resist the urge to playfully roll your eyes.

“I have to make sure my shirt doesn’t get dirty,” you say, “it’s one of my favorites.”

He says nothing in response, opting for a light chuckle as you begin to wash the vegetables. Once you finish, you pull out the cutting board in front of him on the other side of the island, placing a carrot in the middle.

You open a cabinet and pull out a knife, giving it a quick rinse before positioning the blade to cut through the vegetable. Placing your fingers on the edge, you lift the knife just slightly.

“Hey, be sure to cats paw,” Osamu pipes up, pointing to the hand that’s on the carrot, “If yer not careful, you’ll knick yourself.”

“Huh?” You blink your eyes at him, trying to prevent yourself from sounding like an idiot.

“Like this,” he says, lifting his hand up and curling his fingers inward into a loose fist. You try not to focus on the veins lining his hands, tearing your eyes away and mimicking his motions. You see him drop his hand from your peripherals and finally attempt to cut into the carrot.

Before you know it, the knife slips from your grasp, making a shallow but clean cut across your index knuckle. You let out a curse and hiss as you drop the knife.

“Whoa, are ya okay?” Osamu stands as you begin to make your way to the sink, blocking your path.

“It hurts, but I’m fine,” you reply, looking at him curiously before glancing at your finger. You examine it for a moment, seeing the familiar crimson begin to bead.

“Let me take a look,” says Osamu, gently grabbing a hold of your wrist. He lifts your hand up closer to his face, his eyebrows slightly creasing as you do your best to resist the blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You should be careful.”

“Well, it’s not like this was intentional,” you grumble, unable to meet his eyes. He sighs softly and you glance at him, opening your mouth to say something. However, your train of thought is  completely derailed when his lips wrap around the small incision.

You feel his warm tongue gently lick around it and you can’t help but stare at the way his lips look around your finger. He catches your eyes and pulls away.

“I used to do this to my brother whenever he’d get hurt or something when we were little,” he says, letting go of your wrist. Your face is burning as you drop your hand back down to your side. “Wait here, I’ll go grab a bandage.”

You nod wordlessly, mind still reeling as you try to figure out and process what exactly had just happened. You watch his retreating figure head towards the bathroom, disappearing for only a moment before resurfacing with a familiar pink wrapper with Hello Kitty’s face scattered across the outside cover, a gift he had received from his brother. He makes his way back over to you, pulling the tabs apart and plucking out the bandaid.

Without prompting, you lift your hand up towards him and watch as he moves your hand towards him with his pinky, wrapping it around your finger.

“There, all patched up. Is that too tight?” He asks, picking up the trash and crumpling it in his fist. You lift your hand up and examine his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“It’s perfect,” you say, feeling your stomach flutter at the self-satisfied smirk that’s found its way onto his face. “I still have to cut the vegetables, though.”

“Hand it over; I’ll do it.” He motions towards the knife.

You pout, making no indication to hand the utensil over to him. “I kind of wanted to cut the vegetables though.”

He raises a brow at you. “Are ya sure? Ya already butchered yer first chance; I don’t want blood all over my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen, huh?”

Osamu shrugs. “I hardly see ya in here, so it might as well be.”

“So are you gonna help me or not?” You raise a brow and choose to ignore his statement as you cross the kitchen to grab your phone, pulling up the recipe to skim through the instructions before placing it back down. “I’m supposed to Juliette these vegetables.”

Osamu stays quiet for a moment. “Do ya mean julienne?”

“Yeah, same thing,” you wave your hand dismissively, walking back over to the cutting board. You pick up the discarded knife, giving it a quick rinse. Upon returning to your original spot at the island, your hands position themselves once again, curling your fingers like Osamu had previously shown you.

“Wait, yer gonna end up hurting yourself again,” he says as he walks up behind you. “How thin are ya trying to cut this?”

“About this much,” you reply, positioning the knife towards the edge of the carrot.

“Okay, first things first,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes widen as you feel his chest press against your back, his hands moving to hold yours. “Ya have to cut it in half and get a flat surface.”

He grabs your hand holding the knife and moves it to the middle of the carrot, wrapping his thick and long fingers around the handle, completely swallowing yours. He ensures that his grip is stable before pressing down, the blade making a sharp cut.

“Okay, so now that ya have this, ya said ya want to make them look like noodles, right?”

You can only nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you choose to speak. Your head feels fuzzy, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his musky cologne hitting your nose and the way his strong arms continue to guide you. The heat radiating off his chest envelops you in an oddly comforting embrace and something about it feels very domestic. You try hard to keep your knees from buckling under you, shifting your weight between your feet. You immediately tense when you accidentally press your backside against his hips.

Briefly scanning the island countertop, you see that his phone is on the other side where he’d originally left it when you began cooking and try to ignore the sinful thoughts threatening to infiltrate your mind.

“Makes sense?” Osamu says, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“I-I think so,” you stammer, though you bite your lip and mentally scold yourself for your faltering voice.

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back. You exhale slowly, trying not to think of the loss of warmth. “While ya keep doing that, I’ll prepare the salmon. Where’s the recipe?”

“It’s on my phone.” You nod towards it, setting the knife down. He walks over to the side of the counter you’d left your phone at and brings it over to you. “What’s yer passcode?”

“That’s classified information, sir.” You see his eyes darken for a moment as you pluck your phone from his hand, typing in the digits before placing it in his open palm.

“Never thought you’d be callin’ me that so soon,” he says offhandedly, locating the recipe in your browser. You feel your lips part to say something, but no words come out.

You simply resume cutting the carrot and grab more vegetables, shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts. You see Osamu grab the salmon from the fridge, pulling it out and getting some seasonings you’d bought earlier.

“Hey, can ya grab a pan from that cabinet there?” Osamu asks as he points to one of the bottom cabinets in front of your legs.

“Sure,” you nod and take a step back, opening the cabinet door and bending over at the hips. You rummage around for a decent-sized pan, feeling Osamu’s eyes on you before you straighten up. He’s quick to avert his eyes as he holds his hand out to you. You place the handle in his open palm and he takes it, setting it on top of the stove.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you prepare your own things, with you seasoning and cooking the vegetables while Osamu prepares the fish, searing it on the pan. As you both finish your portions, you decide to bring out your nicer plates for the occasion.

Opening one of the top cabinets, you stand on your toes to reach for the plates, wondering how they ended up so high to begin with.

“Need help?”

You jump slightly, startled when you feel his body pressed flush against yours with a hand on the dip of your waist as the other reaches above your head to grab two plates, placing them down onto the counter. You turn your head to look at him and realize just how close he is, his face merely centimeters away. His eyes are on your lips as you tongue pokes out to wet them before they flicker upwards to meet your eyes. You look up at him, anticipating his next move with bated breath, and feel his hand that had been holding the plates move to gently hold your jaw. He leans forward just slightly and your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet.

His lips move slowly against yours, though it’s nothing short of passionate. You feel his hand on your waist pull you closer to him and you lean into the warmth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to welcome the warm muscle inside, letting him explore freely.

The both of you seem to run out of air at the same time, pulling away breathlessly. Before you can say anything, he kisses down your jaw to your neck as you crane your head just slightly so he can have better access and you’re not straining your muscles. He nips gently at the skin before dragging his tongue along, finding a particularly tender spot to pay special attention to. A hiss slips past your lips and you’re reminded of how close he is to you when you begin to feel something hardening against your backside.

“If ya wanna stop, ya have to tell me now,” he mutters against your neck as both of his hands settle on your waist, thumbs playing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d rather not,” you admit rather shamelessly. You can feel Osamu’s lips curve upwards against your skin as his hands give you a slight squeeze.

“If ya say so,” he says before one of his hands reaches between the two of you to untie your apron. “If ya ever need me to stop, let me know.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, slightly dizzy from the reality of what’s happening right now. One of his hands begins to slide upwards from your waist, cupping your clothed breast and giving it a squeeze, while the other slips downwards under your apron and pushes past the waistband of your shorts, hovering over your panties. Suddenly very aware of the wetness between your legs, you move to close them a little.

“That won’t do ya any good,” Osamu mutters against the back of your neck. As if to prove his point, he presses his middle finger against your clothed slit and swipes upward, humming to himself. “Yer practically dripping and I haven’t even started yet.”

A moan slips past your lips and you can only bite your lip in embarrassment at your own shamelessness.

“It’s just the two of us; you don’t have to be quiet,” he says, as if encouraging you to be as loud as you want and disturb your neighbors. When you still refuse to make another noise, he nudges your legs open with his knees, almost forcing you to lean over the counter for support. As if to further prove his point, he pushes your panties aside and slips his middle finger in between your folds, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Osamu,” you whimper as you feel him kiss his way towards the back of your ear.

“What is it, baby?” His finger is still and unmoving inside of you as you try to gain any sort of friction, attempting to grind your hips against him. His hand doesn’t move as you feel his tongue trace the outer shell of your ear.

“Stop teasing me,” you practically whimper as you ball your hands into fists on the surface in front of you.

“What do ya want me to do?” He sounds smug and you can almost visualize his teasing smirk behind your closed lids.

“Just fuck me,” you say. You fight the embarrassment heating your cheeks, too aroused to focus on anything else.

“I know we’ve been living together for awhile now, but let’s not forget our manners,” he says, beginning to slide his finger out.

“M’Samu, please fuck me!” It comes out too eagerly, too desperately, but you want him to just do something to you.

“That’s all you needed to say,” he lets out a soft chuckle before he slides his finger back in. You find yourself leaning completely on the countertop so you don’t buckle under him and moan when he slides another finger inside, stretching you.

You were right; his fingers reach so much further than yours ever could.

His calloused fingers continue to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace as his other hand that had been on your breast moves down to slip under your shirt. You bite your lip as you feel him expertly unclip the bra before sliding around to cup the flesh, nudging your loose bra aside. His fingers pinch your hardening nipple and you breathe out his name.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he practically grunts, “if ya keep soundin’ like that, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya.”

Part of you has half the mind to take him up on the offer while the other is failing to form coherent words and thoughts.

A familiar tension begins to pull at your lower abdomen as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. It seems that Osamu’s also aware, quickly slipping his hands out from your dripping cunt.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine as you turn back to look at him. He offers a smirk before removing his hands completely from your pants and lifting his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. The way his half-lidded eyes are locked on yours as he swirls his tongue around makes you clench helplessly around nothing.

“Don’t worry, yer gonna thank me later,” he says, dropping his hand. He begins to lower himself so he’s on his knees on the ground before he pulls your shorts and panties down in one clean tug. The cool air hits your wet heat and you bite your lip at the sensation.

You watch him with anticipation as he leans forward, using both hands to massage your ass a couple times before spreading the cheeks apart. He nudges your feet so you can spread a little wider for him, which you wordlessly oblige, and inhale shakily as he leans forward and licks a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck, Osamu,” you hiss as you turn back to look at him. You use one hand to reach around and weave your fingers through his hair, fisting it as he begins to sloppily lap at your cunt.

His tongue dives in and out, the wet squelch echoing around the apartment. You feel your legs tremble as he angles his head to reach a bit further before opting to have his fingers rejoin the fun. Your moans sound nearly pornographic as you attempt to grip at anything, unable to get yourself to properly stand as Osamu wags his head a couple times, swirling his tongue in the process.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his fingers angle themselves and hit a spot you didn’t even know existed, your walls beginning to clench and flutter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pushing his head deeper against you. You feel him hum against you as if to encourage you to release onto his face, so you do.

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you feel every nerve ending spark up and you come undone above him. He lets you grind your hips against him a couple more times before he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stands up. He turns you around by your hips and you see your slick coating his lips and chin.

“Look at this mess,” he taunts you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You don’t say anything and wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to taste yourself. As you do so, he makes quick work to get rid of his sweatpants and pulls away to lift his shirt over his head. You go ahead and do the same with your apron, tossing it onto the island behind him and removing your shirt and bra to leave the both of you stark naked in the kitchen.

You take a brief moment to unabashedly check him out, admiring how toned and built he is. Chewing on your bottom lip, you let your fingers trace along the hardened and defined lines of his abdomen, trailing your fingers down to palm him through his boxers. You see the fabric straining and recognize the heat rising to your cheeks as you feel how hard he is, creating a slightly darkened and damp spot where the head of his cock is located. You glance up at him and meet eyes as you hook your thumbs on his waistband, pulling them down. His length practically springs to life, standing proud and tall before you and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

Wrapping your fingers around the base, you bite your lip as you drag your hand upwards to the tip and collect his beading precum, spreading it around generously with the pad of your thumb before using it as lubricant to continue stroking him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly as you lick your lips, getting ready to get on your knees to return the favor that he so generously had given you moments ago. He grabs your wrist to stop you and you look at him curiously. “As much as I’d love to see you suck my cock, I just want to be inside of that pussy of yours right now.”

The hungry look in his eyes is all you need before you kiss him again, this time much sloppier than the previous ones. He maneuvers you around the kitchen for a moment and before you know it, you’re bent over the island countertop with a leg propped up on the cool surface. You hear Osamu spit into his hand and look back to see him give his thick cock a couple generous strokes before positioning himself with one hand while the other holds your hip.

You feel the bulbous head nudge your lower set of lips apart before slowly easing in, your back arching at the pressure already building inside of you. A soft hiss escapes your throat as you try to take all of him, grateful when he pauses once he’s bottomed out within you. You take a deep breath for a moment and feel your muscles relax slightly as you adjust accordingly.

“Are ya ready?” Osamu’s voice comes out surprisingly soft as he leans over you, placing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod quietly before feeling both hands on your hips as he slowly begins to pull out. You realize just how thick he is when you feel empty, though it doesn’t last for long when he slams right back into you. A strangled mewl bubbles from your throat as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You lower yourself onto your elbows on the counter and ball your hands into fists, no longer caring how you sound; you’re too lost in your own wave of pleasure.

As Osamu continues his ministrations, you feel the counter buzz slightly and hazily look around with half a mind to simply ignore it. You see Osamu’s phone shaking across the surface next to your discarded apron, the screen lit up with an unfamiliar name.

“’Samu, your phone,” you say between moans, “your phone is ringing.”

His hips slow, though his thrusts continue to hit deep inside of you. He doesn’t have to reach far to grab it and glances at the screen.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “Stay still for me, will ya?”

You halfheartedly nod your head, though you can’t help but whine at the loss of friction as he stills inside of you.

“Hello?” His voice is even as he answers quickly. “This is Osamu, yes.”

It’s hard to ignore the slight frustration bubbling in your chest as he uses one hand to keep your hips still while the other holds his phone. He continues to speak formally, so you assume it’s probably someone important or has something to do with work. You know better than to tease him in the event that this call is actually important, but you can’t resist the urge to just roll your hips a little.

There’s a slight hitch in Osamu’s voice before he clears his throat, though it sounds more like a warning to you than anything. However, that doesn’t stop you as you grow more bold, deciding to create your own rhythm of shallow thrusts. His grip on your hip tightens, though it’s not enough to hurt you just yet.

“Something just came up, so I’m gonna have to call ya back,” you hear Osamu say, his voice becoming more strained as each second ticks by. When he finally hangs up, the phone smacks onto the table, startling you to a halt.

“Sorry, I couldn’t w-”

“Ya think yer so cute, dontcha? I told ya to stay still.” His voice is dangerously low as he hunches over, practically growling in your ear. You whimper softly in response, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. You’re not sure if you should be as turned on as you are right now, feeling your walls clench around him.

He stands upright and reaches around to grab one of your arms, practically yanking you back so you’re also standing up. His other hand reaches around to grab your other arm, pinning your wrists behind your back.

“If yer gonna act like a slut, I’m gonna fuck ya like one,” he snarls lowly and you resist the urge to moan. He manages to reach for your apron and rolls it up, looping it around your elbows.

As one hand holds your newly bound arms behind your back, the other holds your hips before he begins to pull out of you. You feel his whole length leave you empty with the exception of the tip and you’re about to complain again when you feel him slam back in roughly.

“Is this what ya thought of when ya were touchin’ yerself?”

You hardly contain the cry of mixed pain and pleasure as your back arches, his hips snapping against yours at a relentless pace. You can barely process his words, though you know the embarrassment will hit you later; you simply can’t form coherent enough thoughts to care. The hand that was on your hip leaves but only momentarily before his palm claps against your ass. You yelp in surprise as he releases your arms.

“What, did ya never get spanked as a kid?” Osamu taunts as he rubs the reddening skin. You lean back over, supporting yourself on your elbows. His comment barely processes in your head as he does it again.

Coherent words fail to form as you feel your legs begin to tremble. You’re practically running towards another orgasm and you can tell Osamu is too, based on his unstable rhythm and sloppier movements. You feel one of his hands reach around you to play with your nipples while you let your own hand rub your clit, the sensations overwhelming you in a crashing wave of pure bliss.

As your walls tighten and flutter, Osamu pulls out and fists his cock a couple times before you feel hot ropes of cum paint your back and ass, a guttural groan leaving him.

“Holy fuck,” he pants once he recovers from his orgasm. You’re still shaking, bent over the island, breathing heavily.

A dull ringing can be heard in your ears from the intensity of your climax, but you faintly hear the sink running for a moment. Not long after, you feel a warm and damp towel wipe across the mess on your backside and Osamu’s gentle arm pulls you up.

“Hey, was I too rough on ya?” His voice is soft and you shake your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he hands you your clothes from the ground. “Do ya wanna eat now and shower later?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you sigh as your head begins to clear up. You look over to your forgotten food, your mouth curving downwards into a frown. “Wait, did you not turn off the stove?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

[shotorozu]

after quarreling

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk not specific

headcanon type : mild angst to fluff

note(s) : i had this idea in my head for the longest time omg, probably since november— but i’m glad i finally got to write this out. in this post, i don’t really go into too many details with what your fight was about, and i deal on how they try to make up with you and stuff.

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

you guys never really fight, since both of you aren’t petty to drag out a topic to a point there’s some serious discourse

pretty calm throughout the entire thing. no one yells in this argument, more of sarcastic remarks

not the type to immediately want to solve the conflict, because he might make matters worse if he added insult onto the injury

but he won’t tolerate it if you purposely stop hanging out in the places you usually go to because of him (if that makes sense)

like,, lets say he’s already in the hero course, and his room is literally infront of yours. he wouldn’t like it if you waited until noon to leave your room because of him

hitoshi really doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, even if you guys are feuding

but lets say he’s sorry, or he fucked up in some way— like he wasn’t taking care of himself, or he said something out of hand (which is quite rare)

again, he’ll leave you be for now— but once he’s alone in his room, he’ll start thinking a lot

like “are they going to break up with me? did i hurt their feelings to the point they’re miserable? are they afraid of me?” stuff like that.

it’s really sad seeing him like that

but even so, he’ll still treat you the same. he’ll buy your favorite snack/drink, and hitoshi will ask your friends to give it to them, but they have to promise that they won’t tell you who it’s from

he’ll conveniently place anything you’ll need on your desk like “oh.. where did this hair tie come from? i needed one.”

then, he’ll look at you when he feels your eyes on him— and theres this silent agreement between the both of you; that you don’t want to be like this anymore

he’ll be really happy to have you in his arms once again.

bakugou katsuki

fights happen but not like to the point you guys are at each other’s throats 24/7 or to the point it’s getting toxic

if you think bakugou will admit he’s wrong in a fight with you, then you are wrong

his pettiness will reach the highest of levels, and his endearing ‘insults’ jabbed towards you will be filled with venom, with wrongful intent

there are times he’ll come to apologize to you, but that’s when he knows he really fucked up, like for example.. he accidentally attacked you during an exercise by accident

then, he’ll definitely apologize to that

but him ‘fessing up his mistakes first is once in a blue moon, and definitely when pigs start flying. it’s harsh, and while you’re used to it— it doesn’t mean it hurts any less

it’s mixed. lots of yelling involved, which isn’t the real issue here— you’re used to bakugou being loud, but he will get louder during those squabbles.

or he will become silent. like really quiet, to the point it looks like his mom is scolding him.

depending on the severity of the fight, he’ll either make up with you on the spot— or he’ll leave, just so he doesn’t end up accidentally setting off his quirk.

moving onto examples. let’s say for instance, he accidentally said something harsh. like.. you’re distracting him from important things

and i’d be swinging at him if he told me that, but you’re really offended and hurt. but you don’t want to make matters worse— so you leave.

and he’ll assume you’ll just come back to him, acting like nothing has happened, but you don’t soo..

he starts thinking, and that’s when he knows he fucked up. he can’t just act like that for the rest of his life, he can’t be the best version of himself if he doesn’t make a resolve.

sorry won’t immediately fly out of his mouth, it’s quite hard for him to say it himself— so he’ll start doing things better

he’ll make something when it’s breakfast/lunch/dinner, and he’ll ‘make too much’ food. but he’ll leave it in the fridge for you to eat

glares at anyone that pokes fun at you too much, but it’s from afar. you guys are still fighting but that doesn’t mean he won’t be protective of you

then finally, when you’re alone— he’ll look at you, practically pulling you towards him, and also so you guys can talk things out

he’ll totally act like nothing bad happened, even though it was so tense hours ago. but he’ll be clinging to your side for the rest of the day.

todoroki shouto

again, similar to shinsou— you guys never fight. he’s clueless for sure sometimes, but you’re rational enough to clear it up before it gets bad.

but there will be a couple of hard patches, just like any other relationship.

he doesn’t really know what he did wrong at some points, and even if you point it out to him— he’ll still stand by his point

and he has no filter sometimes so sorry, he won’t be afraid to be brutally honest. but don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t do it on purpose. he’s just not conscious about it

but honesty IS honesty

shouto usually freezes up whenever terrible fights happens, because of his childhood (which is an explanation in itself) and because of that, he will avoid the conflict as much as he can

he’ll brush the situation off, and he won’t speak on it, completely ignoring it to the best of his abilities. he’ll also be really down— he’ll get really quiet. literally no one wants to mess with him

with the help of the dekusquad, he’ll realize that he can’t stay like this way forever. and he has to face his mistakes eventually.

from the getgo, shouto is that person that’ll give you space after a fight, and he wouldn’t pester you about making up with him. he’ll give you time

the first thing shouto does is showing that he’s sorry through his actions.

he’ll definitely ask midoriya to ask about you to your friends— because your friends will only talk to midoriya lol and

similar to hitoshi, and also very subtly he’ll put the things you need right infront of you “oh. i needed a pen! good thing this one works.”

during the winter, he’ll grab your jacket and heat it up like normal. then during the summer, he’ll fill your water bottle with cool water.

shouto will send you looks during this entire ordeal, checking to see if you’re ready to talk.

and you honestly can’t stay mad at him, because man literally looks like a kicked puppy. someone save him

he’s not stubborn like bakugou, so he’ll admit he’s wrong after realizing it himself— and he’s not shy on apologizing either

after you guys make up with each other, shouto will literally hug you close to him— completely forgetting about everything even if it’s just for a moment

he’s just really happy that he didn’t lose you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my work for audio readings without my permission :))

[volleychumps]

Congrats on 3k!! SO its canon that Osamu loves onigiri n even opens his iwn shop in the future, I want to request a scenario where Osamu meets this girl who chill n nonchalant n loves onigiri(n all food!) just like him and isnt interested in him like all the other fangirls yk n hes just slowly falls in love yk hehe (set in high school pls!) Thank you!! I love ur blog!

Aight bet- I’m finally working on this piece skfkjdsfkjsdf

Genre: Fluff, one-shot 

Warning(s): mild cursing, mild nsfw themes at the end 

Foodie. (Osamu Miya) 

- the one in which your love for food perks Osamu Miya’s interest- 

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

“Whoaa, Samu- why so much today?” Suna sweat drops at the sight of his friend’s lunch box as the gray-haired boy runs a hand through his fringe, shrugging lightly as his friend pulls up a seat to eat lunch with him at his desk. Breaking his chopsticks apart, his voice falls to a casual tone. 

“Took ‘Sumu’s.” 

“Why would you take your brother’s if you have the opportunity to get like six bentos a day?” Suna poked a straw into his juice, tilting his head with a lazy smirk. 

Osamu visibly shuddered, pretending not to see the group of girls peering around the corner and into his classroom, knowing better. The first time he had accepted a bento from any of them, it had obviously been store-bought and rearranged to make hearts and such. The gesture would have been ignored and eaten if he didn’t find a few stray hairs in the octopus weiners, and the thought of someone’s hands rearranging perfectly good food made him queasy.

“I wish ‘Sumu’s rejects didn’t come to me.” Osamu mumbles, and Suna chuckles lightly, setting down his juice before peering to his right at the classmate who had settled back down in her seat from having her lunch in the courtyard. 

“Oi, Y/N-san. That looks good.” 

“You want the rest?” You offer, having made too much onigiri the night before, stopping the movement to put the lid atop your bento. You were done with it anyways, and the leftovers usually got put in the fridge to be forgotten about. 

Suna glances at the onigiri, shrugging before taking the two left in the box as you smile cooly at his thanks, putting in your earbuds before laying your head on your desk to catch some much-needed shut eye before class resumed. 

Osamu looks up, not really paying much attention to Suna’s interaction, with a now cleaned out bento-box as his dark eyes land on the now outstretched onigiri in Suna’s hand. The middle blocker shrugs, eating the pointed top of the onigiri with a content look on his face: it was good. 

“Where’d you even get that?” Osamu’s voice was on edge as Suna rolls his eyes, pressing the ball of rice further. 

“Some place safe, I promise. If you weren’t too absorbed in your food you would know.” 

Osamu looks at the onigiri in his hand warily, seeing there were at least no hairs on it before sighing and taking a cautious bite. Onigiri was something he loved most, and he hoped taking this mystery rice ball wouldn’t ruin his- 

wait. 

Suna swore he could see stars in his friend’s eyes as Osamu took a second, larger bite, snapping his head up to meet Suna’s what the hell expression. 

“Where did you even get this?” He repeated his last question, staring at the onigiri as if it had to be sheltered, protected, and loved under his care as Suna lazily finishes his last bite. 

“Tuna mayo. I used special seasoning in the rice when I formed them.” You interrupt, yawning with a stray headphone out of your ear. “Turned out good, no?” 

“Oh. I’m not interested in dating right now, sorry.” 

The beat of silence that followed Osamu’s blunt sentence was heavy, and you amusedly look at Suna, who had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. 

“Oh. What a shame.” The teasing tone filled your voice as Osamu arched an eyebrow, and you glance at the slightly glaring group of girls before connecting the dots. Still, you couldn’t really find the meaning in explaining that his assumptions were surely not the case, settling for sticking your headphone back in and resting your head back on your desk. 

Suna sighs as Osamu blinks, realization dawning onto him. 

“Wait...she wasn’t-” 

“No. She wasn’t. Idiot.” 

The bell rang as Suna got up to return to his desk, and Osamu Miya casts a glance at the girl who sat next to him, tiredly pulling her earbuds out again to listen to the next lecture. A part of him wanted to apologize, but the thought of that had sent an unexplainable heat to the tips of his ears. 

Instead, he rummages in his bag-

and you blink when a can of coffee hits the corner of your desk with a slight tap, Osamu pulling his notes out as if he hadn’t in the first place. He sits forward, feeling your confused stare as he flips open his notebook. 

“For the onigiri.” 

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

“Again? Another one?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t get them too.” Osamu sighs to his brother, shifting the letters around in his shoe locker to get his actual shoes. “This is all your fault, anyways.” 

“The little pigs never learn, do they?” Atsumu grins, and his twin rolls his eyes at the brashness of his words as Atsumu’s shoulder touches the lockers. “You coming to practice today?” 

“Do I have a choice?” 

“Nope.” Atsumu pops the p, spinning on his heel. “I’m going ahead, sweet brother of mine.” 

“Bite my ass.” Osamu replies evenly, shoving the letters deeper into his locker.

“No, mine is better. Thanks for the offer though.” 

The wing-spiker runs a hand through his silver hair, seeing out of the corner of his eye a group of girls hyping up the girl in the middle, looking in his direction as he witholds a sigh. He didn’t hold the brashness of his brother, but he did get tired of the endless confessions sent his way, based soley on his looks- nothing else. 

His mental preparation for rejecting her was interrupted when a hand reaches out, and dark eyes widen slightly when you lean into him, your hand resting on the area of the side of his body. Osamu arches a brow at your easy smile as your face remains inches apart from his own. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Give it...twenty more seconds.” You reply, and Osamu blinks in utter confusion, about to ask what the absolute hell you’re talking about before a series of footsteps run away, a few whimpers in the mix as you pull back abruptly. 

“They’re gone.” You say, opening up your own shoe locker before slipping the pair out casually. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, hope it was at least better than having to deal with another crying girl.”

Osamu remains silent as you tap the point of your shoe against the ground twice before glancing at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“You don’t have to be so...emotionless about it, you know? A simple apology afterwards would be enough. But hey, you don’t have to listen to a stranger.” You wink, waving backwards. “Sorry again, I thought I’d thank you for the coffee. It woke me up, Miya-san.” 

Your footsteps stop when he finally speaks. 

“...Osamu.” 

You glance back in surprise. 

“You can call me Osamu.” 

“Y/N.” You smile a little, nodding your head before continuing to walk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Osamu.” 

Osamu didn’t reply as you walked out of the school, watching from behind you as you untangled your headphones in the midst of walking-

not understanding the foreign feeling of being on the other side of a crush, usually being the one crushed on all this time.

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

“Y/N, got any free food for me today?” 

“Suna, I swear-” 

Suna grins lazily at you as you cross your legs, rolling your eyes playfully as Osamu scoffs at the audacity of his friend. Today, you ate your lunch with the two boys in your classmates you had somehow grown closer to, ignoring the heated stares on the back of your neck. 

“I’ll trade you a tamago for a kaarage.” Suna says finally, and your eyes light up at the offer.

“Deal.” You say immediately, Osamu hiding the beginnings of a smile at your love for food behind his hand as he continues to eat. Suna easily swipes one of the pieces of chicken from your box, putting into his mouth before nodding as he chewed in appreciation for the flavor. 

The silver-haired middle blocker found himself not eating anymore when Suna held a rolled egg up to you on that same pair of chopsticks. You look at him strangely, and Osamu, the quieter one of you three, could only watch as you ate it anyways. 

“It’s good, right? I made it.” 

“Tell your mom I send her my regards.” You reply nonchalantly, and Suna groans at how easily you had figured out his lie before you notice that the quiet Osamu had somehow grown even quieter. 

Did...did you two just indirectly...?

You and Suna exchange glances, and the dark-haired boy simply shrugs before going back to his lunch as an idea pops into your head. 

“You want to try, Osamu? I won’t make you trade anything for it.” 

“Favortism, much?” 

The middle blocker feels his chest swell when you lift your own chopsticks up to him, grinning when Osamu’s spirits immediately lift. 

“You and food, it’s abnormal-” 

“Suna, no one likes your commentary.” You bite back, and you tilt your head slightly when Osamu takes your wrist, steadying your hand as he eats the kaarage at the end of your chopsticks.

You’re wide-eyed when he pulls back, chewing with the beginnings of a smirk on his features at the doe-eyed expression on your face. The place where his hand held was warm. 

“ S’ delicious as always. Thank you.” 

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

The sky swirled with dark clouds forming over head as you looked up, frowning while tightening your hands on your grocery bags. Osamu glances at you, the light patter of rain hitting the pavement as you look at him guiltily. 

“Sorry ‘Samu, I shouldn’t have asked you to come shopping with me after school.” 

The unlikely friendship had developed to the point where you and Osamu were really good friends, the silver-haired boy even seeing you home on some nights after an unplanned hangout with Suna after their volleyball practices. 

You even called him ‘Samu, and he didn’t correct you. 

....In fact, he liked it when you called him that. 

“Mm. Yeah, you shouldn’t have.” 

“I hate you.” You pout, and Osamu puts a single hand atop your head, shrugging while smirking a little. 

“No you don’t. Got anywhere to be tonight?” 

“Nah, no one’s home right now.” You chewed on your lip, knowing Osamu was watching you as you stared at the coming rain. He knew you hated storms, and in all honesty wanted to get you somewhere safe with people as soon as he could. 

“Want to come to mine? ‘Sumu’s practicing extra and my parents are working.” 

“...are you sure?” You say in unease, and Osamu clicks his tongue before taking the bags from your hands and setting them down, shuffling in his practice bag for a second.

“Here. We’ll run to mine, it’s not far from here. Pull the hood all the way up.” 

“Awh, do you care about me?” 

Yes. “Nah, don’t get your hopes up.” 

Osamu watched as you slipped the oversized material over your head, coughing to hide the smile that came at the sight. 

“You’re telling me we’re going to run? In the rain?” 

“Do you want to protect the food you bought or not?” 

“...you’re right, let’s go.” 

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

He could definitely get used to this. 

Almost immediately, Osamu had shoved you into the bathroom after turning on the hot water, ignoring your whines about how you were fine before setting a folded pile of one of his shirts and sweatpants in front of the door. 

It felt comfortable, the pouring of the rain outside, as Osamu mixed broth in a pot while knowing you were here with him in the safety of somewhere he knew you’d be okay. Months of friendship hadn’t made him take any particular advances towards you, seeing as you hardly noticed his feeble attempts anyways. Suna’s advice to just go for it, rang in his ears, the silver-haired boy becoming so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t see you enter the kitchen. 

His breath hitches at the bareness of your legs, his shirt covering down your form to mid-thigh as he quickly returns his attention back to the pot. 

“I left pants there, you know. Real comfy.” 

“They don’t fit.” You shrug, approaching the sink. “Do you need me to wash the vegetables?” 

He merely nods once, fighting to keep his heart rate under control as you do so, continuing to bring the broth to a boil. Still, he physically liked the atmosphere of you here in his kitchen, wearing his shirt while making dinner. Your hair was damp and pushed to one side, and you hum a light tune to yourself as you begin to chop carrots. 

“My curry is going to knock your onigiri out of the water.” 

“I’m offended.” Osamu glares at you as you giggle, looking down at the final product after an hour. You offer him a bit of the broth on a spoon, rolling your eyes at the cautious look on his face when he sips it. 

A pleasant look crosses his face before he can stop himself, and you grin, not really thinking about it as you put the spoon in your mouth to get a taste for yourself. You cheer, jumping up and down cutely as Osamu leans against the counter, crossing his arms with a small smirk as you open up the rice cooker. 

“Man, wish Suna was here. We made way too much.” 

A spike of jealousy flits through his stomach as he watches you begin to plate the food, his jaw clenching. 

He wanted this. He wanted your banter, your cooking, your love for food, and your nonchalant personality.

 He wanted you. He wanted you with no risk of losing you to anyone else, no matter how platonic. 

Just go for it.

“Y/N.”  

“‘Samu, can you grab the-?” 

You never finished your question. 

Osamu took two wide steps across the kitchen, hand grabbing your waist to pull you into him tightly while his other hand rested against the counter top on your side. He gripped onto the stone countertop as he kissed you, roughly and impatiently, as you sigh into it as if you had been waiting for it. 

He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping your lips as the hand on the counter moves to entangle in your hair. He uses his weight to lean into you, lifting you slightly to sit you on the counter as he stands between your legs, the smell of your clean skin filling his lungs in the now heated kitchen. 

When a sound slips your lips, he’s pulling back, wide-eyed at the fact that he had let every bit of pent up emotion spill out of him. You bite your slightly swollen lips, pulling him closer to you with your hand on the side of his neck. 

“It’s about damn time.” 

“Whatever.” Osamu says, the corner of his lips quirking up as he kisses down your neck sweetly, loving the way your bare legs tightened around him. All the sexual tension, every moment of heavy silence that seemed to say all the words he had feared to say, all combusted in this moment. 

“Samu?” You pipe up, pouting when his hand begins to slip up your thigh. 

“Hm?” 

“Can we eat first?” 

Osamu stares at you for a second before chuckling, resting his head on your shoulder as you kiss his temple. 

“Of course we can eat first. God, I love you so much.” 

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @therestless101 @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs

[obeymeluv]

The Bros as Dads

PSA: The boys would be very attractive dads (emotionally and physically). That is all.

Note: the headcanon also includes genders for the kids. I can see some of them having sons, and others having daughters. And, obviously, everyone is older (20′s-ish).

Lucifer

Takes a while to process the news. It’s kind of a big thing. His love life was something of a roller coaster (or nonexistent) until you. The ‘L’ word was a hurdle, now there’s a B word and a P word?!

When his brain realizes what you’ve said or if you show him some proof, the pride takes over FULL SWING (you can feel it explode in him, like his aura) and he purrs

You are truly his stars, his moon, and the heavens he so dearly misses

There’s this raw, vulnerable love in Lucifer’s eyes and it pretty much awes everyone because he’s usually so proper and reserved

The memories are old and dusty but Lucifer’s parenting instincts are strong

A type-A, fussy person. You may have 7 months left before you give birth, but the house will be spotless and perfectly proofed before you hit bed rest

Piles of parenting books suddenly sprout around the house. No one’s sure where they came from or how there’s even that many WRITTEN about parenting.

You and the child become his world. You’re his kryptonite, the only thing to convince him away from long hours or break him out of sour moods

Lucifer is very stressed, more than he thought he’d be, because you’re carrying his child and he worries for your health.

He’s with you every step of the way, from appointments to birth

He’d absolutely drop everything to tend to your needs, or appoint one of the brothers if he couldn’t.

Likes to busy himself with making a nursery and is actually good at themes/interior decorating

Has a tiny desk built in his study. The child won’t be able to join him for a while, but the idea of his tiny joy working on something beside him warms his heart

Hunts down obscure herbs and items from folklore that are supposed to bless pregnancies or benefit the unborn. Turns out he’s really nervous and superstitious.

Lucifer is the worst when it comes to shopping because his pride outweighs his logical restraint. If he convinces himself IN THE SLIGHTEST that his child would look good in something or the nursery could really use an item, it’s coming to the House of Lamentation

He ugly cries when he realizes you’re having a girl because he feels like Lilith has been given back to him.

Refuses to name his child Lilith because of everything that happened. Can’t settle for anything close to her name or any nicknames they gave her.

Makes you a sleeping space in his study. Loves to take breaks to watch you sleep. Unintentionally takes a break to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby.

Firm believer in ‘in the belly’ enrichment so you’ll have music playing and Lucifer will read to them all the time.

If the baby’s not with you, she’s with him. Lucifer has definitely shown up to a meeting with Lord Diavolo with his baby in a chest carrier. The meeting went flat because Diavolo wanted to play with the baby.

He’s the type of dad that demands total silence when the baby’s sleeping. Might have tied up some of his brothers to achieve it.

He’s not a total hard-ass (this kid has made a sucker out of him, okay?) but his kid will definitely have manners and knows to help clean up.

The type to take naps with his kid. He’ll get up at 2 in the morning and climb into their crib if they’re fussy.

Lucifer spent so much of his life being the primary caretaker for his bros that he forgets he’s not alone this time. When you push him back down so he can sleep, and tend to your daughter, his heart almost bursts with love.

On the fence about another child. The kid’s going to have pride in spades and he thinks a sibling will humble them (and make them less lonely). He’s also afraid of that prideful wrath and doesn’t want two prideful little demons always fighting

Isn’t the best with dressing up his kid but likes to give them fancy shoes. The shoes are always on point even if the rest of the outfit is a disaster.

Is 100% ready to receive any and everything “#1 Dad” because he IS, DAMN IT. He’ll use it regularly, too.

Mammon

He’s freaking out hardcore (”You sure? Really, really sure? Maybe you just have gas or something. Y-yeah!”)

Doesn’t believe it until he sees a test. Promptly faints. Dead-ass faints as soon as he sees it.

Kind of remembers it when he wakes up, and you have to remind him again.

This time he’s pretty excited because THE GREAT MAMMON will be having a child. WHAT A GIFT, RIGHT? THE BEST GIFT!

All the magazines are snapping up this gossip and, for once in his life, he puts the earnings away. Kid has a nice fund going before they’re even born.

His schedule is 50% work, 50% family because YOUR MAIN MAN HAS TO BE THERE. Work just pays the bills and pads the nursery account, okay?

The Devildom has something similar to a baby shower and Mammon puts all KINDS of high-dollar shit on there. His baby’s going to be stylin’, okay?

Some crying in front of others, but an entirely different kind of crying behind closed doors. Vulnerable, grateful crying about being loved and having a tiny someone who will love him, too

Pays someone to explain baby stuff to him. How to change them, feed them, what type of breathing you should be doing. It surprised his bros because Lucifer could just give him that info. The fact that Mammon paid for it means he’s pretty serious about learning.

Gets tons of free maternity photos because all his magazines want the scoop. He gets to pamper you and see you all dressed up and beautiful and EVERY magazine has a shot of him crying like a proud sap.

Mammon hoards all of those pictures. Has a pile of them in his room, totally separate from everything else.

Has a lot of nervous energy and can get frustrated with all the baby books, so he distracts himself with scrap-booking. Surprisingly good at it.

Mammon thinks you’re just the most beautiful thing ever. He loves taking pictures of you. Wants the kid to have no doubts about how much he loves them and their parent.

He’s so lovesick. When you sleep or hug your belly or just touch it he melts.

Stacks Grimm on your belly when you sleep. Thinks it’s fun. Likes to record how big the towers get.

Not the best at getting up for your random-hour cravings and has definitely made you cry with his bluntness. When he’s more awake he’ll apologize and you guys will work it out.

When he finds out he’s having a little boy, the bros throw a party. Mammon gets semi-drunk and has a huge, ass-chewing lecture about how the bros made him feel for centuries and how they better not say ANYTHING like that to his kid.

You shot down any and all attempts to name the kid anything money related.

Almost passed out when you had the baby.

Cried when he first held him. Calls him Mamm-mini.

Totally planning the baby’s first photo shoot. Has people on standby to make matching outfits.

He now has a partner in crime and the kid can charm the pants off of anyone!

Mammon is 100% devoted to this kid and he secretly hopes he’s the favorite parent.

Lives for any second of bonding he can get. NEEDS IT TO LIVE. 100% a sappy dad.

The most supportive dad, always saying nice things because he knows people didn’t always say nice things about him.

Levi

Brain stops working. You almost think you’ve given him a heart attack

Levi feels you take the controller from his hand and instantly has to fill it with something else, taking yours. He looks at you and asks you again if you’re sure.

He can see it in your eyes and he just crows. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared but he made the noise.

Worries A LOT about the idea of becoming a father. Can gross otakus be good fathers? How does he dad?

Gets pre-stressed about social interactions. Kids have to go to school and have play-dates and Levi’s going to have to talk to people...ugh! Gross!

Definitely has a few break-downs (feelings of inadequacy, etc.) before Lucifer or Satan comfort him. He’s better than he thinks, just insecure. Everyone learns as they go. They have classes (”They’re like cheat codes, Levi.”) and it makes him feel better

His gaming friends send their congratulations and he gets lots of themed blankets and onesies.

Wants you to have a water birth because the water is his child’s calling. Really attached to the idea.

He’s constantly looking up guides to baby-proofing, double- and triple-checking safety specs of anything before buying it.

Spends HOURS scouring Akuzon, comparing brands, and reading reviews for everything.

Akuzon noticed he was buying lots of baby books and looking at baby-related things so they sent him a onesie.

You get a lovely beach/water-themed maternity shoot and Levi is so love-struck he gets a nosebleed. Once he’s cleaned up it makes a darling photo shoot.  

Has already made lists of anime for the kid to watch. Some are his favorite, some are for the lessons and moments that stuck with him

Asmo messaged TSL on the down-low and Levi got some quality kid-sized merch.

Tries to get you to name the baby Henry if it’s a boy. When he finds out it’s a girl, he pushes for Henrietta.

Reads TSL to the baby and plays ocean sounds.

As you get further along in your pregnancy, he buys a fridge for his room and stocks it with your favorite cold stuff. Any snack foods are just added to his stash.

You are absolutely worshipped. Craving something? Akuzon has it and the fastest pig is on it’s way. Your feet hurt? Try a water bath!

You’re his Player 2 now and forever (always have been), and he’s keeping you in perfect health.

Probably keeps a video journal for the kid or of the two of you during your pregnancy. Big on preserving stuff digitally.

Probably makes a game for his kid just because. They’ll be able to play it when they’re older.

Bought a ton of Magical Girl-style hairbows and things for when their hair grows in. His daughter’s a fucking princess, okay?

Belphegor bought the baby a goldfish onesie and Levi loves it to pieces.

Bought the baby a seashell bassinet and rocks them to sleep with his tail.

Levi has a bad sleep schedule and wakes easily, so he’s usually the first one to get up and handle the baby.

He has this complex about being a good dad. People can call him a weird, gross otaku but they’re ALSO going to mention how good of a dad he is!

Super affectionate with his kid in a quiet, whispering, mumbling way. Just thinks they’re the best thing.

Having a daughter really makes him rethink some of the ways he viewed anime characters and made him super critical. If his daughter ends up liking anime he’ll make it very clear what he thinks and how she shouldn’t let other people treat her like an object. 

His demon form gets triggered REALLY EASILY if his bros hold her for too long. THAT’S HIS BABY, THANK YOU!

Satan

Secretly hoped to be a father one day. Wanted to prove so badly that he could be one, and move past the constant fear of his temper looming over him. He didn’t want wrath to be his only legacy.

Can’t manage more than a genuine smile and a lilting laugh when you tell him, but he’s literally almost sick with joy. He’s just not the type to jump from the rooftops or anything

Asmodeus and Mammon convince him into drinking because he needs to let loose and really show it!

Satan ends up drunk-stumbling to Lucifer and plunking his head into his chest and crying. He’s crying because he’s happy and mumbling something about ‘granddad’. When his tears dry he’s happy as can be, smugly calls Lucifer an ‘old fuck’ and promptly throws up.

They’re past most of their bad blood but even Lucifer wasn’t surprised Satan never got EVERYTHING out of his system. A lot of his childhood memories are tainted with pure wrath instead of coming into his cardinal sin through some other mean. Or naturally, like puberty.

Between his personal research and Lucifer’s expertise, the baby-proofing is totally covered.

His book binges are strictly about pregnancies, suspicions, rituals, parenting, and anything he can think of that has to do with kids.

He’s big on teas and brews that are supposed to help with pregnancies and pains. Uses his many connections to get ingredients for said teas

Reads the classics and big epics to his unborn child.

Buys you some Hellcats for protection. They’re fiercely loyal, so he’ll know you’re safe.

He’d be the type to nag you about your diet, but not to be mean. He’d support it with this absolute WALL of evidence that turns into a lecture that could last for hours.

Has to fight the Hellcats to sit next to you or touch your belly a lot more than he thought he would. He’d never say it out loud, but he’s starting to hate the cats (he doesn’t mean it though).

Starts cleaning up his book piles a lot more. The baby would get hurt if the stacks fell on them. His room becomes virtually spotless.

You pick books to read together. You end up reading Satan to sleep, too. He keeps a hand on your belly.

Gets nervous about you wanting to go out, and basically tries to keep you in the House of Lamentation. Relents a little because hormones make you scary. He was basically afraid of nothing because the walks were fine.

You like to sit in the Devildom gardens and he thinks you look picturesque and wonderful. It takes his breath away.

Asmodeus is your personal photographer because Satan doesn’t think anyone else will do you justice.

Finds out you’re having boy-girl twins and totally shuts down. What does he say? How does he respond? BELPHIE OR BEEL WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TWINS! WHY HIM?!

Lucifer is BEYOND amused. This is definitely payback for everything Satan did in his childhood (so the saying goes).

It doesn’t bother him as much when he starts buying smart little cardigans, button-ups, ribbons, and bowties. He’s actually quite happy.

The Hellcats act weird and tip him off to your contractions before your water breaks. Satan gets you to the hospital and helps you give birth. The twins grow to look more like him than you, but if someone mistakes you for the nanny or says something derogatory, he’s pulling two ferocious kids off an idiot

Satan was afraid he’d be a short fuse, but he becomes the parent that explains everything to death (for better or worse). The kids will get a lecture when they’re bad, when the ask ‘why’ to something, he’ll explain why he gave the punishment he did, and be very clear with anything.

Asmodeus

Quickly falls in love with the idea of you being pregnant. It’s the best! Proof of his truest love, the thing that makes his heart beat!

He loved you to pieces before you were pregnant, and loves you even more now (if that’s possible).

Always wants to be with you, smothering your belly with kisses and touches and looking at it like it’s the next greatest love of his life

Takes names very seriously. “My child is a gift unto this world. People will know their name, so it has to be a good one!”

Gets really wrapped up in decor and aesthetic. He’d be a one-man force for all of it if you didn’t tell him to stop and breathe! Asmodeus just has lots of ideas, okay?

Has a really hard time understanding the value of baby-proofing until Satan smushes a few of his lipsticks in his hand and knocks around some finishing powder (”Now imagine that. All the time. With anything you love.”). 

Hires someone to baby-proof the room because that’s just not his thing. He’ll handle securing the valuables, okay?

Constantly reading about beauty rituals and things to do for his pregnant wife. She’s doing something really hard and deserves to be pampered!

You’ll constantly be pampered or trying ‘this and that’ because he read it was good for the baby. Good for beauty, good for health, etc.

Has a pretty decent diet, himself, and keeps you on yours.

You definitely have pregnancy sex a few times. Anything he can do to help you out, you know?

Asmodeus ADORES watching you grow round with his child and LIVES for helping you take care of yourself. He’ll let you lounge in his fantastic tub and has no issues sitting on the floor and doing your toes

Picks out all your outfits. Wants you to look your best! Don’t worry, you’ll be comfy!

When he finds out you’re having a girl he cries. A lot.

SO MANY BABY UPDATE BROADCASTS ON DEVILGRAM! There is an official ‘baby watch’. It’s trending more than you thought it would.

Takes TONS of videos.

His baby is easily the most fashionable child in all of Devildom.

Takes really candid, private photos that have a lot of sentimental value. A lot of your pregnancy photos are you looking comfy in bed or sitting at a vanity in breezy clothes as he does your makeup.

The type of dad to sit down in the middle of the store to play with toys (are they good enough for his kid? Like, really?). Must feel everything before he buys it. If he doesn’t like how it feels, he won’t buy it.

You end up giving birth earlier than planned and Asmo almost throws up because birth doesn’t look like he thought it would

Super nervous during your pregnancy because you’re in pain and there’s lots of noises.

Busies himself doing your makeup because that’s the only way he can handle the situation. You’re holding his tail and he SWEARS you’re going to break it off!

The bros help deliver his little angel and Asmo is SMITTEN. ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN.

Holding his baby 24/7.

Loses sleep just because he watches them sleep. Sometimes he loses sleep for real because DAMN, babies don’t sleep a lot, do they?

It’s really hard to adjust to and he’s surprised his skin isn’t god-awful.

Doesn’t regret a thing, fawning over their tiny nails and little curls, and OMG EVERYTHING! Cries a lot because they’re just perfect

His wardrobe reflects his dad status but he still looks like a DILF. You can give him the most classic dad attire and it just looks good on him.

Beelzebub

He’s excited about your pregnancy. Boy honestly tried for it, you know? Studied positions and everything.

Beelzebub has so much love and the idea of holding a tiny someone just warms his heart

Everything kid-related is totally foreign to him except for how to act with them. He and Belphie were the youngest so he was used to being taken care of until he got old enough to climb and eat on his own.

The type of guy to need explicit, step-by-step instructions on EVERYTHING. He doesn’t have a brain for it like Satan or Lucifer, so he needs help

Seriously. Give him a checklist for baby-proofing and he’ll get it done.

Gets pretty down about not being able to cuddle and snuggle like normal, but he’ll look into safe ways to do so.

Has special snuggles with the baby. Kisses your belly and rubs it. Talks to your baby like the little demon it is (even if it doesn’t have a name yet).

Lives for the times you talk to the baby, talk yourself out of bed, or how you absently talk to your belly throughout the day.

Works out to deal with stress and nerves, but also because he wants to be a good, strong dad

The doctors give him a list of exercises you can do and he does them with you

Can’t really take the nutrition advice seriously. He eats pretty much everything and you probably will, too.

When people ask him about your pregnancy, he uses very inclusive language (”We’re expecting, etc.”)

You make mini-dates out of your late-night cravings. Beel is totally in love with it.

Beelzebub becomes your food finder. There’s been times where you look at him so cutely, so imploringly, and all you can manage is ‘spicy and crunchy’. He’ll find you something, don’t worry! He’s an expert!

Big on massages and cuddling. Likes to cup his hands over your belly and trace it.

The type of dad to gain weight with you as your pregnancy moves along. Becomes soft, strong dad.

Finds out you’re having twin boys and has the happiest crying session ever. Belphie is the first to know and all Beel can say is ‘Just like us!’ as he nearly crushes his twin to death.

Likes to dress them in cute and comfy clothes. Animal onesies? Yes!

At some point yours twins are going to look like hotdogs and hamburgers. There’s no shortage of food costumes thanks to Levi, Asmo, and Beel.

Suspicious about baby food, bugs Satan about how nutritious it is, and tries all of it just to be sure.

Some of their teething toys look like real food. Beelzebub ate one on accident.

Is a perfect gentle giant. Afraid of hurting them, for they are tiny and precious, but gets over that pretty quickly.

Always wants to cuddle and hold them. You have to make him leave them alone to sleep. Gets kind of sad when they’re napping because he can’t make faces at them or hear them laugh. Right back to his usual self when they wake up, though.

You best believe they learn their alphabet by studying food. Beelzebub will stand in the kitchen and dig through the pantry until he finds things that match the letters of the alphabet 

Belphegor

He’s kind of surprised you ended up pregnant because the sex is usually lazy and casual. Yes, he has the moments where it’s pretty hardcore, but...wow. For some reason, he just didn’t see you getting pregnant.

Secretly hopes you have more than one kid. Something in him would just be happy if there’s more than one kid. You think it comes from the time he spent alone in the attic but never say it.

Sleeps a lot more. Not out of avoidance or anything, but because naps will be rare in the future. He likes to think he’s stockpiling sleep.

Makes sure you’re comfy at all times.

Would love for you to sleep and be cozy but apparently that’s not healthy for humans, so he takes easy walks around the house and keeps you semi-active.

He’ll give you his cow pillow to use as a back pillow. It’s his way of letting the baby use it until he can share it with them.

Listens to a lot of audiotapes about parenting. Looks at books, too, but does better with audio. 

Reads a new bedtime story to your kid every night.

Sometimes you guys sleep in the star room so he can talk to them about constellations. They can’t see anything, of course, but he still goes into detail.

Isn’t much of a picture person and doesn’t see the point in taking maternity pictures. It’s actually because Belphie has a photographic memory so he remembers everything.

The bros force him into taking maternity pictures.

The type to journal everything. He writes a big-ass, super-detailed diary for the baby.

Is kind of worried about his temperament, so he’ll take some classes on how to handle stress and stuff before the babies arrive

Becomes King of Lists. There’s lists for everything. Lists help. Lists are good.

When he finds out you’re having triplets (a boy and two girls), he doesn’t know how to react. You saw him smile though. It doesn’t sink in until you’re hugging him. “I’m never sleeping again,” he realizes with absolute terror.

Beelzebub is super excited. “That’s twins plus a bonus!”

Very snobby about the nursery decor. Also very tactile like Asmodeus. If it doesn’t feel good, it’s not going in the nursery.

Wants a barn-themed nursery (to include as many cow-related things as possible)

You get the comfiest PJs.

With three kids, he lives by embroidery. He has to have a way to tell them apart, after all (the girls, at least).

Can’t hoard the babies but wants to. Hates that he doesn’t have enough arms to hold them all at the same time.

Is very interested by their tendency to hold each other and nap together. Finds it super adorable.

Makes a super-sized crib he can climb in and sleep with them. It’s basically a Belphie-sized bed with little attachments his kids sleep in. Separates them all just enough so he doesn’t worry about hurting them, but there’s still contact

Thanks whatever god exists that they mostly stay on a schedule together. Makes it stressful for changing diapers, but very fun to feed them.

Almost dies laughing when Lucifer holds them for the first time because one vomited on him, the other sneezed in his face, and one pooped so much it got on his pants leg.

Lulls them to sleep with his happy purr, and gets woken up from a dead sleep by pure love when they make the sound back. Suddenly there’s three chirpy purrs rolling against him and he’s in love.

Proud they love their mama so much (to the point of being TOTAL mama’s kids), but also kind of relieved he can breathe.

The three trade off occasionally when they realize he’s free real estate and come to him for snuggles. They all love him so he doesn’t mind.

This house supports cuddle piles! Belphie got them hooked on group naps for a young age and they sleep together now. 

Hope you liked it :)

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Seven: Never Ask Friends for Help

Chapter Summary: As San expected, he caught a cold after your little prance through the storm in Hallim Park the previous day. Luckily, you're fine, which gives you the wonderful opportunity to look after him and the even more wonderful opportunity to let your chaotic nature shine.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, (this chapter is pure fluff and crack) Word count: 3.2k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Six For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Silence filled your room when you woke up the next morning. It was strange, since San had said he would be waking you up, and there you were, still lying in bed by the time noon rolled around.

It wasn’t as if you were waiting for him to come and get you, but you just wanted to take advantage of the time in such a warm blanket. Yeosang often joked about how you became a cold-blooded reptile whenever you felt sleepy, body temperature dropping and your tongue sharp like that of a snake.

Basically, it was his long-winded way of calling you a cranky, heat-stealing bitch.

Not that you minded at all, since Yeosang was a cranky bitch himself when sleepy.

But then half an hour passed, and there was still no sign of San. Throwing the blanket off your form, you slipped on a pair of slippers and got ready for the day, finding him becoming the very next thing on your agenda.

And the state you found him in was certainly laughable--to you anyway.

“Did you seriously get sick after a little storm?” you chuckled, eyes taking in San wrapped in the covers as if he was a baby, sniffling every few seconds.

“Oh, shut it,” he glared at you, speaking with a nasally voice.

You took a step into his room, one looking fairly similar to yours, with little pictures or much personalisation in general. Must not have stayed here often then, or had many memories he wanted to keep.

That thought... it made you feel a little sad.

Once you reached the edge of his bed, you sat down beside him, noticing just how sickly-looking he was. Skin paler, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, flush cheeks and nose, uneven breathing, soft whimpering.

Your smile faded slightly. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since last night,” he coughed, brushing away your hand as you reached out to check his temperature. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you to catch whatever this is.”

Clicked your tongue at his response and did so anyway. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. More than you should be. Has anyone seen to you yet?” Instantly, you brushed the hair from his eyes, simultaneously wiping away the sweat. Was pretty gross, but you didn’t mind at all.

San relaxed under your gentle touch, finding it cool and soothing against his muddled senses. “N-No. I texted Hongjoong to tell everyone to leave me alone. Clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you’re here.”

Lightly hitting his chest over the blanket, you scoffed. “You’re happy I’m here, don’t lie.”

Grinning, he sighed. “Can’t hide anything from you, now can I, Hun?”

“Nope,” you huffed as you got up. “Now, I’m going to prepare something for you to eat since you probably haven’t had anything since yesterday.” On cue, his stomach grumbled painfully loudly, making the man visibly cringe as he was about to decline your offer so you would stay with him for a little bit longer. “Looks like Mister Tummy’s already answered for you.”

“Mister Tummy doesn’t know shit.”

“Mister Tummy knows more shit than you do. In fact, it processes all of your shit for you.”

“Gross.”

“I know. Mister Tummy’s gross. But full of wisdom.”

“You know what, just go. Leave me be for a bit.”

Evil chuckling reached his ears. “Now that you’ve said it, I’ll just be here to annoy you as much as I can. But before we do that, keep yourself bundled up and make sure you’re sweating buckets. It’s the most effective way to break a nasty fever like that.” You began wrapping him up in the thick blanket like he was a burrito.

With that, you left for the kitchen, calling Seonghwa’s number. As the ringing continued, you looked around, noticing how there were few guards and servants around the place. Not even Wooyoung, Jongho, or Hongjoong could be seen in your trek to make food.

“What do you want, troll?”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that. Whatever happened to ‘hello’? Too mainstream for you?”

“...Hello, troll. What do you want?”

Narrowing your eyes ahead of you, smirk pressing against your lips, you tried to look around for the chef. Not there either. “Much better. Now, can you give me a recipe for that soup with ‘magical healing properties’ you used to give me?”

“Bone broth?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m on adventure to nurse a sociopathic cuddle-demon back to health, now are you going to give me the recipe or am I going to get Yunho to drag it out of you? Because I know very well that he will.”

Seonghwa’s sigh was loud enough to be audible through the phone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Just text me the recipe, thank you, love you, byeeeeee.” Immediately ended the call, looking in all the cupboards, the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. This place was stocked to the brim.

Shortly after, your phone began buzzing, Seonghwa requesting to video call you. Swiping the green button, you were met with a (slightly laggy) picture of Seonghwa’s chin, hearing him yell off screen. “--UNHO. MINGI. I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES.”

You could make out the response, “Hehe, kinky.” Most likely Mingi from the very nature of the comment.

“What do you want, troll?” you echoed his words back to him, catching his attention--the other boys most likely long gone into the depth of the house.

“Well, well, well, how the tables have turned,” he smirked, moving the camera so you could see him better.

“It’s ‘how the turntables’.”

He looked at you with an unimpressed expression, not pleased with your Office reference, and carried on to ignore it. “So there is no way in hell I’m sending you the recipe through text, since people can easily hack that--”

“And by people, you mean--”

“Yeosang, yes, who else? Little rat bastard keeps trying to steal my recipes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“As if he hasn’t heard it already about a million times.”

You chuckled in response, knowing how true it was. “Fair enough. Now spill your secrets and bless me with the ability to cook.”

One word to describe the last hour of your life would be... Well, you couldn’t really think of a word. It was purely of Seonghwa screaming over the phone and you screaming back. And panicking. Both of you definitely panicked.

But all in all, the bone broth was made and tasted fairly decent--a worry you had after fucking up so many times in making a simple recipe.

With a pale and dreary look upon his face, Seonghwa looked at you through the phone, narrowing his eyes on you pouring some of the hot mixture in to a bowl. “You’re actually gonna feed him that? Sure you’re trying to nurse him, or was this a master plan to kill him after that ordeal? Because if it’s the latter, then there were much easier ways of doing so.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, whispering prayers in your head that it would actually help San’s fever. “And goodbye.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Is that it? You’re gonna use me and then lea--”

You hand pulled away from the phone screen, after having pressed the red button. Chuckled to yourself with your comedic timing, completely forgetting the earful you’d get of the elder the next time you call him.

Gathering a tray, you placed the bowl of bone broth on top of it, as well as a packet of painkillers, a glass of water, and some turmeric tea; why San has it, you have no idea, since he seems to be a hot coffee-kind of person.

Would’ve added a flower, because you felt like being extra, but that would seem more like a romantic thing than a... well, whatever the hell you two were right now.

This situation wasn’t exactly common enough for it to be given a name.

Wafting away the thought, you grabbed the tray and walked quickly to the mobster’s bedroom. Didn’t need to worry about any spillage since you’ve had years of practice being quick and precise with movement.

Holding one hand beneath the tray (feeling a little heavy, but again, you’ve had practice), you used the other to open the door, finding San still swaddled in his blanket, sweating like a pig.

“Y/N...” he whimpered, an eye opening at the sound of you entering. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was different to how he usually was--and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

“I’m right here, San,” you replied in a soft tone, brushing back his hair once more as soon as you placed the tray on the bedside-table beside you. “Brought you some food too. Can you sit up for me?”

Letting out soft whines, he tried to lift his body up, but was too weak and too caged in to get his back even a centimetre off the mattress. You saw the issue, and pulled the covers apart slightly so he could move a little more, both hands pulling gently at his shoulders so he could sit up properly.

Never had you seen someone this unwell from a simple fever. Sure, you’ve felt like shit before, but San’s condition was a little worrying. “Is there some private doctor I can call?”

“What,” he huffed, a smile etching onto his face as he looked into your eyes, “makes you think I have a private doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno, you’re a rich asshole?”

Chuckling, he let his head flop to the side, neck suddenly too weak to hold it up properly. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Annoying, but funny, but sarcastic, but beautiful.”

“Okay, do you wanna continue with that word vomit or are you gonna eat?” You cocked your brow, head tilting to match his posture. “Also, you’re not gonna flatter me by calling me beautiful. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

It had slightly upset San knowing that you had said ‘anymore’--upset him knowing that there were others complimenting what his. But he couldn’t blame them. You really were beautiful in his eyes, even if he hadn’t thought so when he initially laid eyes on you.

“Don’t wanna eat.”

Sighing, you fixed yourself and picked up the bowl, mixing it as you blew to cool it down a little. “You’re not well, you gotta.”

He looked at you with big wide eyes and a small pout--and you couldn’t help but think it was a little cute. “Don’t wanna... unless you feed me?”

Okay, maybe it was a little less cute.

You exhaled, still stirring. “If I do, then you’ll have it all?” He put his hand over his heart, nodding with a sincere look on his face. “Fine then.” You lifted a spoon full of the bone broth to his lips, which he look into his mouth promptly--eyes glued to yours as he did so.

San hummed earnestly. “It’s...actually pretty good.”

Eye twitching, you lightly pushed him. “Why? Did you expect it to be shit?”

“I mean, I heard faint screaming and what I assume was swearing, which could have only come from you because I let everyone have a day off for today. So, yes, forgive my assumption that it would murder me,” he chuckled, opening his mouth once more, in which you carefully put more broth in.

“Be happy that I’m doing this much for you.”

“Because you feel guilty for getting me ill?” 

“No, it was your fault for not taking a hot shower when we came back, like I told you to--and your immune system for being so shit.”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t help it if my immune system wants to act out. I usually don’t get this ill.” You sent him a ludicrous look, continuing to feed him. “What? I really don’t!”

“Tell that to the rain.”

“I-- nevermind. But the second thing is that I offered to take a shower, but you said no!”

“That’s because you wanted to shower with me. No way in hell I was gonna let that happen!”

“You have the shower room for it!”

″Yeah, and I've already passed on my grievances to you yesterday about that hell-room!”

“Well, at least with me with you, you don’t have to worry about--what did you call it? Oh yeah--’Casper the fuckin’ Perverted Ghost’.”

“I’d take a ghost over you any day.”

“You won’t be saying that in a year.”

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t be choosing Casper over you. After all, I’ll be spending time with him as well.”

San scoffed, slightly amused but annoyed at the same time. “Are you actually trying to get me jealous of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Who said Casper doesn’t exist?”

“‘Cause ghosts don’t exist.”

“Tell that to Casper. You’ll find him in my shower room.”

Amidst the conversation, neither of you had noticed how the bowl and cup was now empty, their contents now residing in San’s stomach. But when you did, you got up--ready to walk to the kitchen and put everything away--until his very warm hands wrapped around your elbow gently.

“Please don’t go. You can put all that stuff away later. Just... stay with me.”

Sighing, you decided to listen to him for once an put the tray down before tightening the covers around him again--making him whine. “Noooooo, I wanna hold you.”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?”

“I’m ill, stop taking my muddled brain so seriously.”

Your brow cocked up, amused while you looked over his flushed face. “So you’d be willing get me sick too?”

Another pout formed on his face. “Of course not,” he mumbled. “You know what, you’re right. You can go.”

He avoided looking at you, instead fixing his saddened gaze at the window. Your natural scepticism told you that he was just faking it, only putting on an act to get your attention and affection. Yet, for the first time in a while, doubt began to seep in.

Maybe... maybe you could give in. Just this once.

Sighing, you slipped off your slippers and lay down beside him, an arm and leg wrapping around his body to bring him closer to you. A stronger tint of red covered his face as he looked at you, flabbergasted, as he tried to wriggle out of your touch. “What are you doing, you’ll get sick--”

“My immune system is much stronger than yours, I’ll live. Besides, you look cosy,” you muttered, nestling your face into the soft blanket. Even his blanket smelled like a garden in the rain, despite the amount of sweat that’s probably seeped into it.

Truly, he did, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to hug the human burrito.

San had, instead, found you cute, cheek squished against the fabric surrounding him. Let his mind wonder to the image of you pressed against him--without the covers coming between you two.

Again.

Would you look this peaceful, sleeping on his chest, on a regular day--he thought.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna get some rest?” San could feel your voice vibrating through the covers despite the thickness of it.

“Hard not to stare at you, ya know?” he relaxed himself, despite feeling like he was baking beneath the blanket, and let his head rest on the pillow, cheek pressed against your forehead.

“Goddamn, you’re hot. Did you take any medicine while I was cooking?”

“Oh, Hun, there’s no cure for sexiness,” he coughed, a smirk pulling at his lips from the joke he made.

Another sigh was pulled from your throat as you got up to look for any painkillers he could take. Sane began to whine once more, rolling over since he could barely had enough energy to move with his arms when he was this tired--a full belly of warm broth and tea not helping what so ever.

“No--wait. Come back...”

“You need painkillers.”

With a straight face, he stared deep into your eyes, slightly glossy and sparkling under the dim sunlight coming into the room. “But you’re my painkiller.”

“Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds,” you deadpanned, scooping up the tray to leave the grown-ass mafia boss whining and rolling around, throwing a tantrum.

After some hard thinking and remembering that Wooyoung had given you his number, you called him up as you stood in the doorway, looking at San’s calm state of sleeping.

“My dear sister,” you heard a voice finally say over the phone, “what requires my assistance?”

“...Wooyoung?”

“Yes, dear sister?”

“What in the world has possessed you call me your ‘dear sister’?”

“Because you’re gonna be my friend’s wife some day, so I need to get used to seeing you as my sister-from-another-mister.”

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you decided to not comment on his outlandish claims. “San’s not feeling well.”

“Is that why he sent us all away?” he laughed, somehow finding this situation amusing--since this is what his best friend tends to do; finds his weakened state as vulnerability, and if there was one thing San hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

But if he truly hated that, then why pursue this why you--when he know that it would force him to bring his guard down?

“I think so. No one was here when I came out of my room. Not the cooks or the maids or even the guards,” you said, taking another gander as if there might be someone roaming the halls to disprove your statement.

There wasn’t.

“Okay then. You want me to give you our private doctor’s number?”

Chuckling to yourself because you knew you were right (immediately confusing Wooyoung), you hummed, “yeah, that would be great.”

“O-Okay. Lemme text it to you. But do you need anything else? I know from experience San can get a little clingy when he’s not in his right mind,” he said, a boisterous giggle passing his lips.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You let your gaze brush over your captor’s figure. “Just send me the number and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okie dokie then, dear sister. I’ll leave you to deal with that enigma.”

“Alright, Wooyoung. See you tomorrow?”

“Call me ‘dear brother’, then maybe I’ll hang u--”

You shoved your phone into your back pocket after ending the call, thinking that it would take him a few minutes. Proving you wrong, the phone buzzes to life within the next ten seconds, Wooyoung sending you a couple of messages.

Wooyoung: Well that was a rude Wooyoung: No matter, I still love ya, dear sister Wooyoung: Probs should clarify that it’s platonic in case San sees it and gets all jelly Wooyoung: Anyway, here’s the number Wooyoung: XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N: Thanks, bro

Wooyoung: 🥺🥺 You called me ‘bro’

Smiling a little, you called the number--which had indeed taken you to a doctor’s clinic. After hearing of his exact temperature and other symptoms, the woman over the phone had concluded that it was as you first suspected--the common cold.

She told you to keep giving him painkillers and he should be fine within the week. Ending the call with a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you left to get San more broth and medication, and hopefully you’d lay down with him again.

Which is exactly what you did for the rest of the day, opting to stay with him for the night too in order to make sure he really was okay. Thankfully, the worst of his fever had passed by the time morning came around and he was feeling much better.

You, however, were exhausted after looking after him, deep in your slumber as you shifted closer to San, who had broken free of his blanket prison and wrapped it around the two of you. The sunlight peeking through the window paled in comparison to the faint smile of glee San had adorned when he saw you.

Cheeked pressed up against his shoulder, and arm and a leg draped over his body like a koala clinging to a tree.

Just like he had thought the day before.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby​​​​ , @sparklychangbin​​​​ , @shawkneecaps​ If you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask!

[keilemlucent]

no rest

(r18+)

eraserhead | aizawa shouta x reader

ao3

word count: ~5k

Shouta has many exhausting days, but you're always there for him when he finally comes home. And, he decides to show you how much he appreciates it.

(Or, domestic Shouta dick on hard!)

warnings: domestic fluff & smut, domestic aizawa, face-sitting, cutesy shit 

Shouta’s day had been so fucking long. Training with 1-A had been more of a nightmare than it had been in a long while. It resulted in about a third of the class needing Recovery Girl’s healing while the remainder received a harsh scolding on lack of restraint. He made sure to sprinkle on a few administrative threats for good measure, but all in all, it really soured his mood for the rest of the day.

After a quick nap and 24 ounces of black coffee, he took to his evening patrol as normal. For whatever reason, the streets were also a shitshow. He had to track down and subdue a petty burglar who had robbed a few street vendors. Shouta also detained a few muggers as well, all preying on women stepping out of a new, neon-lit club. It wasn’t particularly hard as these weren’t coordinated criminals, but rather drunken idiots who needed some sense and respect slapped into them. All the same, it was tiring and a little disheartening. 

By the time his patrol was finished, he was so exhausted. The caffeine had long burned from his system and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep as long as possible.

Shouta made his way back to his apartment, checking his phone on the way. He couldn’t help the swelling in his chest as he saw a text from you, cute as always.

  from “y/n”, 9:32 PM

  “y/n”: miss you honey!! i made dinner and put some leftovers in the fridge for you!

“y/n”: - love you shouta baby <3

  His heart warmed. 

The two of you had been dating for quite some time, though it was one of his best-kept secrets. You didn’t mind, truthfully. You had a flexible job freelancing, so your schedule molded to the needs of a hero very well. The dates you took were carefully planned and often shrouded, but you never complained. Only a few of Shouta’s colleagues knew of your relationship, and they were sworn to secrecy. All of the external smoke and mirrors just added to the reticent, underground allure that “Eraserhead” cultivated. It was one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place. 

Shouta arrived back at your shared apartment, unlocking the door and heaving a sigh. He could see the light of the TV illuminating the living room. Your shadow was cast on a wall, disrupted as one of your cats sprung up to greet Shouta at the door. A small smile spread on his face as he reached to scratch her fluffy white chin.

You shifted off the couch, moving towards Shouta as well, “Looks like Mochi missed you.”

As you swayed towards him, Shouta was unable to help how his eyes raked down your comfortably dressed body. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and soft, high-waisted sleep shorts that gave a delightful peek at your ass. You swayed up to him, slowly wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he instinctively went to your waist, squeezing lightly.

He chuckled as you pressed a few playful kisses to his cheeks and stubble, “Looks like she’s not the only kitten who missed me.”

At the comment, you flushed and buried your face in his neck, giving it a playful nip, “Asshole. I always miss you.”

Shouta rumbled out an acknowledging hum. He knew this all too well. There were many nights he came home in the early hours of the morning to find you passed out on the couch spooning Mochi. He always made careful work to carry you to bed tucked against his chest, whispering sweet nothings as you became listless in his arms. Often, this would evolve into sleepy, tender fucking. Sleepy embraces of soft skin that turned into soft peaks and sweaty bodies. Though, just as often, the two of you dissolved with each other into deep sleep. 

But, this night, you were wide awake and safely in his arms.

Mochi curled around your feet as Shouta coaxed you from his neck. You withdrew only to cup his jaw in your soft hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Shouta shivered; he would never tire of feeling the plushness of your lips on his own. You felt his shudder, laughing lightly against his lips.

You pulled back, rubbing his shoulders, “As much as I love this, I know that you haven’t eaten dinner and I made some incredibly good soup and bread earlier if you’d like some.”

Shouta smiled, something you saw more than anyone else and you cherished that face, “Of course. Thank you, kitten.”

“Asshole,” You jolted forward at the nickname to kiss his nose before twirling from his grip to practically skip towards the kitchen, out of sight.

Shouta rolled his eyes in false annoyance, but truthfully he found your perpetual embarrassment over his jests endearing. Despite having lived together for nearly two years and been in a relationship for several more, he was still able to rile you up and fluster you with just a few words. Shouta craved it and he knew that you did too.

Shouta bent down, giving Mochi a few more scritches as your older, less spry, senior kitty, Artichoke, finally came lumbering over to greet him. Shouta alternated between taking off his boots and petting the cats before straightening up and draping his capture weapon over a hook by the door. 

He walked to the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head, watching with a fondness he could extend to you. 

You padded around the kitchen, unaware of his gaze, too absorbed in your own doings. The aforementioned soup was on the stove, heating up. You always insisted on warming things up in the oven or on the stove, insisting that it preserved the taste and quality of the food better. It took a lot longer, but Shouta didn’t mind. It made you happy.

You gave the soup a stir, nodding to yourself and stepping back to boost yourself atop a countertop, tapping through your phone.

Shouta walked soundlessly between your thighs on the countertop, placing his large, calloused hands at the juncture between your hips and upper thighs. Your eyes darted up to meet his, a sweet smile coming to your face as you placed your phone back on the counter. Languidly, you rested your arms on his shoulders, lightly pulling him and tangling a hand in his messy, raven hair. 

“How was your day?” You asked, rubbing a thumb at the base of Shouta’s skull, eliciting a rumble of pleasure low in his chest.

 Shouta pressed his face into your shoulder, half nuzzling into it, “Very long, and very tedious.”

You hummed, turning your head to press a very well deserved kiss to Shouta’s temple, “You wanna talk about it?”

Early in your relationship with Shouta, you learned that you had to prompt Shouta to talk about his feelings, thoughts, and well, a lot of things, directly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to (especially with you, he very much wanted to share his life with you), he just wasn’t used to many folks listening. 

But, you were there to listen. Always, it seemed.

Shouta shook his head, “Nothing overwhelmingly bad. Just a bit worse than normal. I’m just happy to be home.

“I’m happy you’re home too,” You replied gently, nudging Shouta’s head from your shoulder to press your foreheads together. “Do you have patrol in the morning?”

“No, I have tomorrow off,” Shouta cupped your jaw, kissing you with a soft reverence. It was gentle, mellow and slow. His other hand squeezed your hip, feeling soft flesh give way to bone. 

His dick twitched.

...

So it was one of those nights.

Shouta licked into your mouth, giving your bottom lip a quick nip. You shuddered in his grasp, arching your back into him. One of your legs began to hook around his waist-

And then incredibly loud sizzling shocked the air. 

You jolted back, looking past Shouta to the pot of warming soup.

“Shit!” You cursed. Shouta moved back, going to stir the soup, lowering the heat as you were at his heels.

“Well, at least it's warm now,” You laughed from behind him, while he dished himself up some of the fragrant soup.

  The two of you settled on the couch, Shouta quietly eating and listening to you as you filled him in on your day. You recounted how you went to the coffee shop on the corner, then scoped out a new cat cafe that was opening up across town. Your work could be done from almost anywhere, and you took advantage of that through your romps around town. You always had such cute stories about your day.

Shouta couldn’t lie and say that your wanderings didn’t worry him. He knew all too well the types that lurked in the shadows and would jump at the chance to take advantage of someone like you. But, you also weren’t reckless. Hell, truthfully, Shouta underestimated you early in your trysts, thinking you weren’t nearly as capable as you were. 

You laid your head on Shouta’s shoulder as he set the dish of soup aside, mostly finished. 

“Thoughts? Pretty good, right?” You asked, pressing a kiss to Shouta’s clothed shoulder. 

Shouta nodded, wrapping an arm around you and squeezing, “Very good. Your cooking is always very good.”

Though, it wasn’t his favorite meal of yours he liked eating. He could only pray that your cunt be his last meal on death row.

...

Shouta could survive on granola bars and apple sauce and had for a long time. The minute you two moved in together, you tried to always keep some leftovers in the fridge or freezer for Shouta to graze on. You were insistent that your role as house chef had nothing to do with antiquated gender roles, but rather that Shouta was a compliant guinea pig for new recipes. Either way, Shouta wouldn’t have minded. Truly, the closest you ever got to the ‘housewife’ archetype was the one time Shouta walked in on you in a sinfully cute skirt and frilly, pink apron when you were making literal goddamn bread.

That was also the first day Shouta fucked you over the kitchen counter. He remembers it very fondly and with a rock hard cock. 

You rose, stretching your arms above your head. The crop of your shirt rode up deliciously (and intentionally) showing off the supple skin of your waist and just a sliver of underboob. Your cute, sleep shorts, patterned with moons and stars, moved just perfectly to show the curves of your ass and thighs.

  You cleared your throat, giving him a knowing look with dilated pupils, “Something up, Shou’?”

“No, nothing at all,” Shouta rose up off the couch, having more than a few inches of height on you as he moved to rub his hands up and down your arms. “I’m gonna wash up.”

“Sounds perfect,” You stretched on your tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss, before turning on a heel to walk to the bedroom, a small parade of cats following you. 

Washing up consisted of taking a shower to wash off the grime of the day and throwing on a pair of boxer briefs and a long sleeve shirt. It was one that you frequently wore (read: stole), and it carried a bit of your scent with it. 

When he entered your bedroom, hair tied up, Shouta couldn’t stop looking at you.

He’s really not sure what changed about him. It was probably age, but something about domesticity got his dick hard. Coming home to someplace, something, some one stable made him feel warm and safe in a way that felt so new. He fucking cherished it. 

Just like he cherished you. 

You were up on your knees on the bed, playing with Mochi with a stuffed mouse toy. You hadn’t realized he had entered the room, cutely oblivious in your comfort.

 A moment later, you noticed him, all sleepy eyes and warmth.

You seized your playing and smiling, “Sleepy, dear? Come to bed.”

And oh, he did. 

Shouta went to his side of the bed (he loved that), climbing onto the mattress and pulling you into his lap.  His back rested on the headboard while yours was snug to his chest. His legs were laid out flat while yours were bent at the knees as he stroked them up and down. They were all plush, soft skin. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to mark them, be buried between them, or have them wrapped around his waist while he bruised your cervix.

His nimble fingers traced up and down your curves in a way that he knew would make you shudder.

Shouta loved the way you trembled at his touch. 

“Maybe I’m not so sleepy,” Shouta broke the almost silence. He squeezed the meat of your inner thighs, moving closer to the hem of your sinfully small sleep shorts. 

You chuckled, “I couldn’t tell.”

You ground backward, making Shouta’s cock twitch.

Goddammit. 

Shouta was exhausted. Truly and thoroughly worn out, yet he wanted nothing more than to be suffocated between your thighs. Maybe laying between them or maybe-

“Hey, kitten,” Shouta purred into your ear, tucking your hair behind your ear. He kissed softly, speaking lovely and deep. “Would you mind doing me a favor— just since I am a bit tired?”

You took a shuddering exhale, nodding as Shouta’s hands drifted between your upper thighs and the softness of your tummy, “O-of course.”

Shouta grinned, licking the shell of your ear, popping a gasp from you, “How about you sit your pretty little cunt on my face, hm?”

You breathed, wriggling against him with a whine, “S-Shouta—”. 

He truly wished he could see the bashful blush that was surely staining your cheekbones. 

You squirmed in his lap, “Are you sure? I know you’re tired, you don’t have to.”

He hummed, nodding, and moving your hair away from your neck. Shouta didn’t dare lavish it with the kisses he so wanted to. No— he merely fanned his breath and watched your squirm. In a low, growling voice he spoke into your ear, knowing how instantly wet you got for it, “Let me lay down and I’ll show you how much I want to.”

You turned back to look at him, immediately going in for an incredibly sweet kiss. Shouta swears he could taste sugar on your lips as you pull away. You perfectly juxtaposed his lust, all candied reverence and a honeyed tongue. 

You shifted, allowing Shouta to properly lay on the bed. He took note of the small, nervous tugging of your hands as you watched him. Your cheeks were flushed with want and thighs squeezed together tightly. 

God, you were precious.

Shouta couldn’t help himself. He dragged your lips down to meet his own as he settled his body onto the sheets. Your hands wove into his damp hair, rubbing a small, deep circle at his skull. Shouta couldn’t help the low moan that pulled from his chest. 

You knew just how to touch him, even in simple ways. 

Even from Shouta’s spot lying down, he was able to pull off your shorts and discard them to the floor. Your legs were vaguely unshaven, perfectly perfect.

(When the two of you first had started seeing each other, you had been so meticulous about your appearance and hygiene. You still kept good on both of them, sure, but, he’d seen you relax more and more as you got used to him. At heart, you were a bashful thing and took quite a bit of time and patience. He adored it, adored you.

You hovered over Shouta, pressing your petal-soft lips against his own. His hands, all calluses, and scars, wrapped around your thighs in their own foreplay. You stuttered a moan into his mouth which he drank greedily. Fuck his exhaustion, taking you in made him feel more alive than any cup of coffee or adrenaline rush would.

Slowly, you positioned yourself above Shouta’s half-drooling mouth. Your face was flushed, eyes trying to look anywhere other than at the man between your thighs. There was clear anxiety in how you were shifting and tensing. Definitely turned on, but a bit unsure. 

“Kitten, do you want to keep going?” Shouta asked softly. As much as he wanted this, he was well aware that for you, this was a fairly vulnerable position on a good day. Sometimes, being this exposed made you a bit too skittish to have a good time. 

“N-no, it’s okay,” You reached down to run a hand through his hair, pulling it fully from its tie. “Ya’ know, I just get nervous.”

You give him a soft smile, one that’s full of trust and love that took months to years of love to foster and grow. And now? It was mirrored so well between the two of you. 

God he loved you. He loved it. He loved you.  

Shouta wrapped his arms securely around your waist, hands digging into the plush bits above your hips. It was his wordless reply, positioning you perfectly to ride his face. 

Shouta moved a hand to your soft stomach, gently rubbing a thumb lower and lower. You shuddered, almost grinding down onto Shouta’s waiting mouth. He prevents you, holding you up to tease you just the slightest bit.

You huff above him, but it quickly dissolves into a tremor-filled moan as Shouta’s thumb slowly traced as the velvet of your folds. 

He circled your clit, moving to give it a few slow circles. He could literally watch the wetness begin to pool around your cunt. 

He couldn’t help himself.

The muscles in his thick arms tensed, dragging your thighs down to rest squarely on either side of his face. Your pussy rested firmly against his mouth, weeping. 

You cried out above him, steadying yourself on the headboard.

The smell of you was all around him. God, he could hardly breathe but he could hardly fucking care. Your cunt was the place he wanted to drown, die, and be at peace in.

He gave you a lick from cunt to clit with the flat of his tongue, trying to taste all of you in one go. You tightened your thighs around his head, moaning and resting your head against the wall, braced by an arm.

  “S-Shouta,” Oh, your voice was begging. It made his cock throb. “ More.”

Did he fucking heed your request.

With everything he had, your thighs were constricted by his grip and your pussy was fully suffocating him. 

Shouta licked into you, swirling his tongue at your entrance. He sucked at your clit, hard, and proceeded to roughly drag you down when you reflexively lifted your hips away from his mouth. Shouta worked his lips against your cunt and clit with vigor. He could feel the way your slick wetted his facial hair and clung to his cheeks. Your thighs were dampening with sweat and arousal and Shouta was fucking drowning in it.  

He gave a particularly harsh suck to your clit, causing you to bounce upwards with a cracking shriek before Shouta dragged you back down again. You bore down on him, panting so sweetly above him.

He pulled away from your pussy for only a moment, “Touch your tits for me, kitten.”

Your hands shakily slid towards your chest, tweaking at your own nipples as soft moans spilled from your kiss-bruised lips. 

Shouta took the opportunity to bite and suck at your inner thighs, leaving sweet little marks in his wake. One of his hands went to roughly palm at your ass, giving it a quick slap in the process. Your hips stuttered, then fully ground down on Shouta’s tongue. 

He took a spare moment to splay one of your thighs a little bit wider for balance, allowing him to move his own arms. He’d rub the soreness out of it tomorrow, gladly. He removed his mouth from you for just a moment to take a few deep breaths, before slowly crooking a finger into you. You shook with each moment, thighs twitching around Shouta’s face. He fully plunged the finger in, bringing a soft gasp tumbling from you. He smirked against your cunt, tongue fully attending to your clit. You were slowly starting to descend into obscenities and pleads.

“ P-please, Shouta!” You wept out, all for him, just for him. He revels in it. “ M-more!”

He obliged without thought.

Shouta spelled sweet nothings on your clit at a brutal pace. He can’t help teasing you just a little by not fully crooking his fingers just right. This earns him a desperate whine from you and a delicious squeeze of your thighs from around his skull. His ability to breathe is definitely being compromised, but god if he ever wanted it back. Suffocating on your cunt was his goddamn sacred rite and he’d be damned not to do so perfectly. 

“S-Shou’,” You stuttered out from on top of him, one of your hands fisting in his hair and forcing him deeper into your pussy still. Shouta has no doubt your face is flushed and damp with sweat. “ Please—”

Maybe on a different day, Shouta would tease and make you beg for it. But, not that day. On that day, he wanted nothing more than for you to cum on his face.

He repositioned his fingers, suddenly and harshly curling them against that particular, perfect spot in your pussy. You let out a sharp moan, bearing down on him. 

“ Fuck, Shouta!” You breathed harshly, crying out with each lick and suck. 

Shouta drilled the spot inside of you, feeling slick practically pour down onto his face. God. He adored you. 

“I-I’m close—” Your voice was cut by your cry as Shouta gave you a particularly harsh suck to your clit. 

He already knew. Your pussy was fluttering and tightening around his fingers. 

Shouta free around tugged you down the hardest and harshest he could. You were smothering him, and holy fuck he loved it. Loud squelching sounds and his own breathing were all Shouta could hear as he brought you to a tumbling orgasm.

You screamed his name, so prettily, so well , on your lips and your hips stuttered and faltered against his face. The hand that wasn’t finger fucking you senseless helped prop you up as your muscles spasmed. 

Your hands had flown to your mouth, judging by the muffled nature of your cries of adoration. It was a habit of yours Shouta was trying to help you break, carefully. He gave your ass a sharp smack as you were coming down from your orgasm. Your hands quickly came down your face and instead intertwined with Shouta’s messy hair.

Shouta refused to let up on your cunt. You were twitched around him, moans coming out as broken babbles. His fingers drove into you and his tongue flicked at your clit, hoping to draw a second orgasm from you.

“S-Shouta!” Oh, Shouta loved how broken and hoarse your voice was. “T-too much!”

Shouta stopped abruptly, pulling his fingers from you and allowing you to move and rest.

You moved to straddle Shouta’s waist and god were you a sight.

Your hair was messy, frizzed, and wild with your own pulling in ecstasy. Your face was thoroughly flushed, a few tears coming from the corners of your eyes. Shouta could even see your thighs glistened with slick and his own spit. 

Shouta propped himself up to sit (somewhat), glancing at his wet fingers.

“Open your mouth, kitten,” It was a soft order, but you obliged nonetheless. You opened with your tongue just a bit out, eyes wanting.

Shouta gently grabbed your jaw, hooking a finger inside your mouth so you weren’t able to close it. His wet fingers slipped in, smearing your juices across your tongue. 

You closed around them, sucking weakly in your post-orgasmic state. Shouta could clearly see your exhaustion, and his own was creeping back up on him, albeit slowly.

He withdrew his fingers and hand, voice low, “Swallow like a good girl.”

You nodded, eagerly complying. Shouta watched the gentle bob of your throat.

“Oh, kitten, ” Shouta praised you with a voice like honey. “You did so well.”

You shifted to sit on his hips, wet cunt over his straining, boxer-covered hard-on. You leaned to kiss Shouta softly. You lick into his mouth to taste yourself, shuddering against him. 

God, he really loved you. 

“You too tired for anymore, kitten?” Shouta cupped your face as he drew away. 

You gave him a soft laugh, pressing your smooth cheek into his scarred, callous hands, “I should be asking you that.”

“My dick is currently rock hard from drowning in you, so you could say I’m not too tired right now.” Shouta purred as you melted against him, straddling him fully and arching your back the slightest bit. You were such a good kitten for him. 

You pressed soft kisses into Shouta’s neck, nipping his jaw, “You could fuck my face? Get me as messy as you like?”

As much as thinking about your fucked out, fucked up face got Shouta leaking, he wasn’t in that particular mood. Another night.

“Sit on my cock, kitten,” Shouta turned to kiss your temple, hands pushing and pulling at your waist.

You drew away, giving him a bit of a concerned look, “Shou’ I don’t know if I have that in me.”

Shouta shook his head, dropping his voice even lower, “I’ll be doing all the work, kitten. Promise.”

You still looked anxious, unable to meet Shouta’s eyes. Sometimes, you froze up like this, in intimate moments. You spun in your head with only fear.

“(Y/N),” Shouta called you with your name, pulling you from your worries. You met his eyes. “We can stop if you’re uncomfortable, it’s alright.”

“No, no,” You shook your head. “ I’m genuinely afraid my legs will give out. I feel all jello-ish right now.”

You laughed softly, Shouta squeezing your hips.

“Oh, kitten,” Shouta chuckled himself, thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin. “ I said I’ll be doing all the work. You can be a good cocksleeve for me, hm?”

You audibly choked, then nodded. Shouta just hummed laughter, watching you squirm for him.

“Be a good girl and sit on my cock then,” Shouta lowered his gaze at you.

You put yourself more upright, grabbing his cock in a soft grip. Shouta was rock hard from eating you out, angry and red. You stroked him a few times, spitting on the head and slicking him down. You lined him up to your dripping cunt, shaking legs raising to pull in his cock so beautifully.

Shouta was big and you visibly felt it as you sank down on him. Your eyes fluttered and your body shook as he filled you up. 

Both of you were breathing in puffs, Shouta growling as you bottomed out. He smoothed a hand over your stomach as your body twitched. Shouta’s breath hitches as he swears he can feel his cock through your stomach. 

He gripped the side of your body, fingers digging into the flesh and fat, and with abandon and the strength of thighs, he fucked up into you. 

You nearly screeched as he did, hands going to Shouta’s torso for purchase. You screamed exclamatives as Shouta’s cock so perfectly filled you up. Your cunt was hot and gooey around him and Shouta knew he wasn’t going to last too long.

Your body bounced with his, your expression twisting as one of your own hands went to rub your clit. Particularly hard, Shouta slammed up into you and pushed your hips to meet him. 

“ Kitten,” He growled, repeating the motion, but slower. “Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself.”

You nodded hastily, moving your hand, dissolving into soft pleads for Shouta to keep fucking moving.

He made good on his word to do all the work.

Shouta’s pace sped up, wet squelches filling the room. You were moaning in tandem with each thrust, both getting closer and closer to climax. 

Finally, Shouta relented and massaged your clit with his thumb, watching your expression break for him. Your body sagged, face to Shouta’s neck, fanning sweet breath sticky to his skin.

“Cum on my cock, kitten,” Shouta nearly fucking commanded you to. You shook for a moment, grinding down as Shouta fucked you so well. You clenched so beautifully on his cock, sobbing in relief as Shouta’s thumb moved faster, allowing you to tumble over the edge of your peak.

Shouta couldn’t hold back. He was relentless in the way he grabbed your hips and fucked you. He bruised your cervix as he reached his own climax, nails digging into the meat of your hips as he growled out your name. 

His cum filled you up so nicely as he fucked you through his own orgasm. You were nearly sobbing into his neck, hands fisting into his knotted hair, begging for a reprieve. Shouta slowed, a hand pushing your heaving chest up so he could see you better.

You sat so divinely on his cock. You were thoroughly red, thoroughly bitten, and bruised up just right. Your eyes were glassy and your lips parted.

Shouta gave one more, weaker, thrust up into you.

You hissed, letting out a shaking breath, “ S-Shouta—”

Oh, you were spent. And, so was he. 

He gently pulled you off his cock, watching your slick and his cum coat your thighs. Part of him wanted to lap it up and tongue fuck you again , but he was much more inclined to pull you to his chest.

You immediately tangled your legs together, pressing your face into his chest. You half-heartedly groaned into his chest, “I thought you said you were tired.”

“I was,” Shouta pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Still am.”

You snorted out a laugh and tried to move even closer. Shouta wrapped his arms around you, squeezing before moving off the bed. You whined, but he just tsked.

He returned with a soft, wet towel. He gently cleaned you, pressing a kiss or two to your oversensitive thighs and sweat-slick tummy.

Finally, he slid in with you, both of you somewhat clean and more than sated. 

You were already half dozing as Shouta pulled you into him, running a hand through your hair. 

He truly adored you and would show you, time and time again, exhausted or not.