Author’s Note: I owe this to @floopieee opieee. Thank you to @shiny-bun for the beta read :)
“What’s wrong, baby?” Your boyfriend turned the lamp on next to him before pulling you up tightly by the waist. He was always too worried about you, even if you just stirred in your sleep.
“B-bad dream, s-scary,” he had sat you in his lap, as close to him as possible.
“It wasn’t real, and I’m right here.” You nodded, wrapping your arms securely around him. You didn’t want to let go. His body was so warm, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers on the scars that riddled it.
“Mista, don’t leave me please?” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, this was the safest place he knew to keep you.
“I would rather die, sweetie.” He was rubbing small circles into your back, chin resting on your head, waiting for your breath to steady. “Who’ll protect you if I leave?” You shrugged. “Exactly, so I can’t leave.”
“You got hurt,” you shuddered at the memory. “What if that happens for real and you can’t come home to me?”
“It won’t, I promise.” He looped his pinky with yours. “There’s no other option.” You nodded into his bare chest. He smelled like vanilla and gunpowder, you’d never get that smell off him. Luckily you’d grown to like it. Sometimes his musky cologne would cover it up.
“I love you, Mista.” He smiled.
“I love you too, amore. You feel better?” You nodded. “Good, I’m tired.” He groaned, pulling you with him as he laid down. Being out of the blankets for so long had made you a bit chilled, making you want to cling to your space heater more than normal. He pulled the blankets up to your neck, leaving his chest exposed as to not overheat.
He watched as you fell asleep, arm wrapped tightly around his waist, face buried in his side. There was no other option, you were his home.
Author’s Note: I owe this to @floopieee opieee. Thank you to @shiny-bun for the beta read :)
“What’s wrong, baby?” Your boyfriend turned the lamp on next to him before pulling you up tightly by the waist. He was always too worried about you, even if you just stirred in your sleep.
“B-bad dream, s-scary,” he had sat you in his lap, as close to him as possible.
“It wasn’t real, and I’m right here.” You nodded, wrapping your arms securely around him. You didn’t want to let go. His body was so warm, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers on the scars that riddled it.
“Mista, don’t leave me please?” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, this was the safest place he knew to keep you.
“I would rather die, sweetie.” He was rubbing small circles into your back, chin resting on your head, waiting for your breath to steady. “Who’ll protect you if I leave?” You shrugged. “Exactly, so I can’t leave.”
“You got hurt,” you shuddered at the memory. “What if that happens for real and you can’t come home to me?”
“It won’t, I promise.” He looped his pinky with yours. “There’s no other option.” You nodded into his bare chest. He smelled like vanilla and gunpowder, you’d never get that smell off him. Luckily you'd grown to like it. Sometimes his musky cologne would cover it up.
“I love you, Mista.” He smiled.
“I love you too, amore. You feel better?” You nodded. “Good, I’m tired.” He groaned, pulling you with him as he laid down. Being out of the blankets for so long had made you a bit chilled, making you want to cling to your space heater more than normal. He pulled the blankets up to your neck, leaving his chest exposed as to not overheat.
He watched as you fell asleep, arm wrapped tightly around his waist, face buried in his side. There was no other option, you were his home.
Mariaaaaaa!!! Asahi would pack a picnic for your first date in the summer and if you mention it with this fond but sad sigh a few months later when it’s too cold and gross to go outside, he’ll recreate it in front of the fireplace just for you.
Kel I love u first off
Second, THIS IS PERFECT BC I HATE COLD 😭💖 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH
Author’s Note: @saetyrn9 jvbjkenbvrjk AMY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG also um, tw bug mention? tw fear probably (i am so bad,,, at tagging things)
Author’s Note: @saetyrn9 jvbjkenbvrjk AMY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG also um, tw bug mention? tw fear probably (i am so bad,,, at tagging things)
“Honey, I’m home!”
Tanaka giggles as he takes his shoes off at the door.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
He runs; he knows exactly what’s going on. Why couldn’t I have gotten home sooner? He sees you kneeling, hunched over while continuing to smack the gallon of laundry detergent against the floor in front of you.
“Sweetie, let me finish this.” If it was for you, he’d eliminate every bug in the world. He couldn’t, your words rang in his head. “Ryu, you can’t just kill off the entire Arthropoda phylum, that would cause an ecological disaster!” He wasn’t allowed because of, whatever that meant.
He offers his hand to help you up, but you can’t move. You only push the bottle into the ground while looking up at him. He bends over slightly, pushing the detergent bottle himself. “I got it. It won’t run away. Go get in bed.” He knew whatever was under there was practically vaporized, but you were probably too scared to notice.
“You have to flush it down the toilet, so its friends don’t follow.” You hadn’t gotten up yet. He nodded. You were frozen, only able to watch as your boyfriend placed his hands on the bottle firmly beside yours. Why am I like this?
“I know, baby, just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” You finally nodded, letting go without hesitation. He’s done this before, you’re going to be okay.
He didn’t know where you got that idea, either. That more bugs would follow to avenge their friends’ death, to collect the body, whatever your fear seemed to feed you. Why would flushing its body into the ocean even stop that? Do our pipes even go that far?
He wouldn’t dare tell you that, though.
You got up, washing your hands aggressively and for far too long in the kitchen sink. Tanaka sat there, waiting, not wanting you to see the remains of whatever creature you had destroyed. He was applying way more pressure than necessary to keep a dead bug from moving, but enough to give you security as you shakily walked towards your shared bedroom.
He disposed of the body, trying to figure out what you were in the middle of doing. what was more important to you right now...comfort, or how desperately he needed to shower?
He stood next to where you sat on the bed, knees to your chest as you held your favorite stuffed bunny. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head as he loosened the grip of one of your hands. “Am I allowed to get in bed with you like this?” You nodded slowly, still shaking.
“I was gonna wash the sheets anyway,” your words were slow.
“Well, I’ll take care of that later,” he smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Now if you don’t mind, this is my side.” You slid towards the middle of the bed, knowing he’d pull you back closer. You liked his side, it smelled like him, like home.
He slid his legs under the covers, resting against the headboard. “How was work?” He smiled, planting a soft kiss on your palm.
“It was fine, sweetie. I appreciate you asking, as always.” He wrapped your arms around his neck. “But I need you to loosen up for me, okay? You’re gonna get stuck like that.” He placed an arm under your knees, preparing to move you to a more horizontal position.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He was on his side, facing you with a hand holding your hip. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “Do you want to talk at all? Or sleep?” You nodded at the last option, letting him pull you and your bunny flush to his chest. He held your thigh up over his waist. This was where you felt safest. He wasn’t going to move until he knew you were sleeping soundly.
He could already feel you relaxing in his arms. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m here.
Author’s Note: This is a secret santa gift for @saetyrn9 I hope you like it, Amy!!! And big thank you to @peachiikawa for the idea!
It had been a very long week for you, he knew that. Goshiki may not be the best at cooking, or cleaning, or any other mature activity. But this did not make him oblivious to what you really needed: to be taken care of. As romantic as your boyfriend was, a candlelit dinner at a beautiful seaside venue would not help your stress. You were not up to the task of watering any flowers he could get you.
Author’s Note: This is a secret santa gift for @saetyrn9 I hope you like it, Amy!!! And big thank you to @peachiikawa for the idea!
It had been a very long week for you, he knew that. Goshiki may not be the best at cooking, or cleaning, or any other mature activity. But this did not make him oblivious to what you really needed: to be taken care of. As romantic as your boyfriend was, a candlelit dinner at a beautiful seaside venue would not help your stress. You were not up to the task of watering any flowers he could get you.
He didn’t exactly have a plan beyond sneaking into your apartment. I’ve never really cleaned a floor before. They have a vacuum, right? He carefully pulled each of your plants out of their decorative pots, looking for the key that was supposed to be in one of them. The goal was chores, but what chores did you even do? How often are you supposed to clean stuff, anyway? He figured he’d know when he got there. It’s not like you didn’t trust him, you did tell him where the spare key was.
He left his shoes and jacket at the door before walking slowly through your kitchen. What am I supposed to be looking for? He shrugged his shoulders before walking into your room and spotting an overflowing laundry basket. That’s what he assumed was under the pile of clothes, at least. Perfect. Goshiki was very familiar with doing laundry, and the overflowing hamper may have been too much for you right now, but he had all day. He threw the detergent in the hamper and made his way to the communal laundry room.
He started the first wash cycle, sitting down on the bench facing the machines. What now? He set his timer, the lights in the corner of the washer telling him he needed to occupy himself for another forty-five minutes. It smells good in here. He messed with his phone, trying to form a productive thought that would help you more than laundry. He sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket. He put his head in his hands, frustrated, then looked straight ahead. I’ll figure something out. He looked straight ahead at the laundry, spinning, in front of him...
Four hours had passed. They passed quickly, he was very relaxed. He arrived with your dried clothes, prepared to fold in your room. He set the laundry basket on the bed, suddenly realizing he had no clue where anything went. This is starting to feel like an invasion of privacy. He shook his head at the idea to go through all your drawers. I’ll just fold all of it and hope it’s good enough. He got a shirt from the top of the pile, still warm from the dryer.
Actually, he thought, food. He smiled while ordering your favorite, and something for him. They’re gonna be so happy when they get back! He smiled to himself while folding the rest of the clothes until he came across a pair of your underwear. This feels inappropriate. He shook his head again, trying to shoo the thought away. I’ve pulled these off them with my teeth, I can certainly fold them.
“Shit!” He looked at his phone, realizing he hadn’t changed the delivery address to your apartment. He sprinted out of your apartment, shoving your undies in his pocket when he realized he hadn’t dropped them.
He got to his apartment at the same time as the driver, throwing the food in the passenger seat before speeding back. “They better not be back yet.”
You were back, you were about to open the door when Tsutomu ran towards you. “Please, wait in the living room while I finish.”
“Finish what? I want to shower,” he held the door shut while handing you the food.
“Eat before you shower.” Your confused gaze wandered, landing on the striped fabric peeking out of his pocket.
“Without you?” He nodded. “So you can finish stealing my underwear?” You held the food in one hand, pulling your undies out of his pocket with the other. He turned bright red, biting his tongue.
“You’re not going to rile me up! I’m going to finish! I even brought rose petals!” His eyes went wide. “You didn’t hear that!” He opened the door, running to your room and locking the door before you even had a chance to see what was going on in there.
You sat down to eat your dinner, alone, shrugging your shoulders at your boyfriend’s strange behavior, not that it was ever entirely normal. You left your underwear on the counter for him.
About an hour and a half had passed. He finished folding your laundry, placing it back neatly in the basket. He made your bed, before carefully placing the rose petals in a heart shape on the comforter and lighting a few lavender-scented candles. You finished eating an hour ago and put your boyfriend’s food in the fridge. It was clear he was too busy to eat considering all your previous attempts, telling him he could finish working later.
“Hey, baby, I finished!” He smiled while walking over to you and placing his hands on your waist. “Do you want to see?” He was eager to show you, you nodded.
You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “I was going to put the clothes away, but I didn’t want to snoop and I don’t know where anything goes. You can tell me where to put it now if you want.” You nodded, sitting at the foot of your bed, about to tell him where everything went.
He laid down next to you, pulling him towards you in a sensual manner, letting his hand wander dangerously low. “Tsutomu?”
“Oh, we don’t have to!” He pulled his hands away. “I’m sorry, I just thought I could help you relax.” He felt embarrassed having misread the situation. “We can just cuddle and watch a movie!” You shook your head, laughing.
“We can do all that too. I just want to ask you something, baby.” He nodded. “So you clean my room, light candles, buy me dinner,” he nodded. “And tomorrow, I’m gonna have to vacuum up all these rose petals?” He frowned, hiding his face in your chest.
“It was supposed to be romantic, babe!” You laughed at his stress.
“That’s okay, just looks like you’ll have to spend the night and finish the job tomorrow.” He grinned devilishly before turning your bodies, leaving you pinned under him as he began trailing kisses down your neck.
What are some random soft headcanons you have for the haikyuu people? It can be anyone.
;-; thank u for this
Sakusa: he holds out his little bottle of hand sanitizer for you first before he puts some on
Tanaka: likes watching you get ready (this is @shnnn fault) he just lays on the bed and talks to you, or when he’s needy he bugs you with hugs and kisses
Daichi: (this is very self indulgent) I don’t think he’s super into initiating pda, so I think when he can tell you’re nervous or stressed in public he wraps an arm around your waist and it’s extra reassuring and special
Koganegawa: always has to be touching you! You’re cooking? Back hug. You’re reading? He’s snuggled up to you. Shopping? He’s holding your hand while he’s waiting for u to tell him what to get from a high shelf. (I dont think he enjoys shopping)
Asahi: i think he makes u clothes? Not super often, but he can tell when you buy jeans they’re a little too short sometimes, or you don’t have a nice warm jacket. He’s tall but not super tall? So I think he really appreciates clothes that feel like they were made for your body!! So sometimes he just... makes u some pants :)
Kageyama: he’s a really good listener? But you don’t really realize it. I think his very nonchalant face makes you think that some things you say aren’t important, not in a bad way. Talking about your day isn’t life or death all the time. But I think he comes home sometimes with a few bags, and you’re confused, and he just looks at you blankly like “you said you needed this a few days ago?”
Author’s Note: This is sort of a prequel to my first fic? It’s a lot longer though and uh, tw disordered eating maybe
For as long as Issei had worked this job, he had been an early riser. He rose before the sun, sitting down on the edge of the bed while you lay fast asleep. He stretched and popped and cracked instinctively before getting up to brush his teeth. He’d walk, eyes still half closed, to his ‘home gym,’ or the space in the guest bedroom he had converted, knowing full well you wanted it in the garage. ‘It’s too spooky in there in the morning,’ he’d laugh, both of you knowing he just wanted to work out in the air conditioned room.
He’d finish off with yoga and meditation, centering his mind, body, and spirit, before hopping into the warm shower. He’d always leave the bathroom door open in case you woke up, ready to goofily tease you before you even remembered where you were.
“You like what you see, baby?” He’d wink, holding his Discobolus pose as you shook your head.
“Put some clothes on, Zeus,” you rolled back over but soon heard footsteps approaching.
“I’m offended that you’d compare me to the most promiscuous man on Mt. Olympus,” he kneeled next to the bed, grabbing your chin in his hand. “I’d prefer to be Perseus, and have my Andromeda ruling at my side.”
“It’s too early,” you dragged out the syllables as Issei rested his hand on your hip beneath the covers.
“What do you want for breakfast, sweetie? I can make pancakes,” he pressed a kiss to your hand resting on the pillow. You nodded, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders.
“I’m sure Perseus wore pants.” He rose, grabbing a pair of cobalt blue boxer briefs from the shared dresser.
“I’m sure Andromeda made the pancakes.”
Your arms found their way around Issei’s firm torso while he flipped each finished pancake on either of the two plates on the counter. He had a system, every other pancake was chocolate chip, “maybe you’ll be sweeter to me if I give you sugar,” he’d always say. The plain ones were for him, though he would spread peanut butter over them anyway. He’d learned that from you the first time he had made you pancakes, the first time you had spent the night in his arms.
“Do you want anything else, angel?” You shook your head against his back. He carefully turned around, handing you your plate. “I’m surprised you’re up so early,” he laughed.
“It was cold last night, had you brought out the winter blankets like I asked, I probably wouldn’t be.” You had made your way to the stool at the counter by now, cutting into your pancakes eagerly. It was his turn to hold you now, nuzzling his face into your neck after leaving a soft kiss on your jaw.
“Just say you missed me, baby. That’s okay, too.”
“Do you want to meet at that ramen place for lunch?” Issei was getting ready for his break, awaiting your text response. He was going to go anyway, he hadn’t packed any food. He just wouldn’t mind picking you up on his way.
“I can’t, I have a lunch meeting.” He frowned, those usually meant the worst for you.
“Do you want me to drop something off for you?”
“I’m not hungry,” he rolled his eyes before putting his phone back in his pocket, walking calmly down the street.
He had been battling your loss of appetite due to stress for the entirety of your relationship without much luck. He had never been one to push, but sometimes the only food he could assure you ate was breakfast. He had only gotten you to eat breakfast by making dinner early, leaving you starving by morning. It was only on bad days, it’s like your body would forget. Sometimes you noticed, but were afraid of getting sick if you ate something when you had already felt “full.”
He ate his ramen, debating bringing some back for dinner. There had been weeks where you ate the equivalent of one large meal a day. Every ‘not hungry’ made him fear a week like that, making food that you’d barely touch and praying you’d take it to work with you tomorrow so you wouldn’t wither away. His only solution up to this point was eating, and reminding you that normally this is when you’d eat too. Using your love for routine against you was his only hope, and it hadn’t been working as well as he wanted.
He could tell you felt bad about not eating, that you felt bad about worrying him. What else were you supposed to do if you simply weren’t hungry? Force feeding only made you feel inadequate, you felt full after half a sandwich or a few bites of pasta. The thought of eating a full protein made you sick. At your lowest points you’d start crying while watching tv with him, watching him snack on something you couldn’t bare the thought of consuming. ‘Issei, what’s wrong with me?’ He never knew what to say. When you got stressed your body simply refused fuel, and that worried him.
“How was work, angel?” His job had given him the ability to appear entirely composed regardless of the environment. You could never tell if he was stressed unless he dropped the facade and told you. When it was about you, he’d never tell you. When it was about you, though, you could tell. Issei was always caring. If he could tell you were in distress he’d pull out all the stops. He’d light lavender candles, he’d cook, he’d clean the counter. He wouldn’t complain if you wanted to watch something he didn’t, he wasn’t planning on taking his attention off of your subtle emotional responses.
“It was okay,” you lied. He already knew it wasn’t, but you didn’t want to talk about it. He always got home before you did, he didn’t have nearly as many responsibilities as you did. His work didn’t change, yours did. New projects meant new worries and new responsibilities.
“I’m almost done making dinner,” you had dropped your things by the door as soon as you stepped inside, making your way towards the man slaving over a pot of chicken soup. “I took the winter blankets out, I thought this might help warm you up.” You snaked your arms around his waist, hiding your face into his back as it warmed up, holding the tears welling up in your eyes. You could eat a little bit of soup, just a little bit, if it would make him feel better.
“Thank you,” you let out a deep sigh into his back. “I’m gonna shower.” He was already in his ‘pajamas.’ Issei ran too hot to sleep in anything but underwear, but enjoyed lounging around the house in your oversized Batman pants. You’d offered to buy him his own so you could match, but he said it wouldn’t be the same.
You both sunk onto the couch, searching for something comforting to watch. Maybe a disney movie, or something else you’d seen a million times. “You know how I played volleyball in high school?”
“Yeah, why?” You hadn’t forgotten. He even taught you how to play so your beach trips would be more fun.
“After practice Makki and I would compete to see who could make the better protein shake. I always won.” You laughed, probably way too much.
“You’re bragging to me about protein shakes you made 10 years ago?”
“What? They were good! Have some faith in me,” the movie kept playing, he tightened his grip around your waist. “I have no clue how I’d drink one everyday, though. If I had one now I’d probably puke. Oh, the joys of youth,” he laughed.
“Are you still hungry or something?” He wasn’t, his teenage athlete appetite had gone away as he aged.
“I was thinking about dessert.”
“I’ve had your protein shakes, I wouldn’t consider them a sweet treat.” He gasped, feigning offense.
“You know how much I hate protein powder, you think I was downing that everyday in high school?” You looked at him confused. His current protein shakes weren’t bad, for a protein shake at least. “It’s an acquired taste, and I still hold my nose and chug it.”You laughed at one of your favorite Matsukawa quirks.
“So why'd you stop making them taste good?”
“I was too broke in college to buy all that ice cream.”
“Ice cream? For protein shakes?” He rolled his eyes before pausing the movie.
“I’m gonna make you one, you’re underestimating my 17 year old metabolism.” He stood up, gesturing that you stay put. Issei was having another chaotic urge, apparently.
You turned on the couch, facing the kitchen instead of the tv. He began pulling every sugary food out of the pantry and fridge. Every flavor of ice cream, cookies, granola bars, peanut butter, anything and everything sweet. “You’re using all of that?” He nodded, haphazardly throwing everything in the blender followed by some milk, chocolate syrup, and two scoops of his protein powder. This really was a chaotic recipe, straight from the mind of a gross teenaged boy.
He came back to the couch with glasses for each of them, they looked like they had been filled with a child’s birthday cake puke. “Drink it, I promise it’s good! It’s so you can’t taste the protein powder.” It probably just tastes like chocolate and peanut butter, but you were still hesitant to drink it. “I promise, the team always liked mine better than Makki's.”
You held the glass up to your mouth, slowly drinking it, widening your eyes when you realized how good it actually was. You understood now. Your 26 year old bodies would cease to function if you had these everyday. You couldn’t pull the glass away until you were done.
“Yeah, I definitely didn’t think it’d be that good.” You laughed, wiping your upper lip.
“You couldn’t taste the protein powder right?” You nodded, watching him sip slowly on his, as his face suddenly scrunched up. “You know, I ate a lot at dinner. I probably shouldn’t drink the rest of this. You want it?” You shrugged, taking the glass out of his hand, drinking the rest like you hadn’t eaten anything all day. Oh wait, he thought. You haven’t for 14 hours. Oh wait, he thought, this is it. This was the solution to his biggest worry. A hidden reset button, your sweet tooth.
Author’s Note: This is sort of a prequel to my first fic? It’s a lot longer though and uh, tw disordered eating maybe
For as long as Issei had worked this job, he had been an early riser. He rose before the sun, sitting down on the edge of the bed while you lay fast asleep. He stretched and popped and cracked instinctively before getting up to brush his teeth. He’d walk, eyes still half closed, to his ‘home gym,’ or the space in the guest bedroom he had converted, knowing full well you wanted it in the garage. ‘It’s too spooky in there in the morning,’ he’d laugh, both of you knowing he just wanted to work out in the air conditioned room.
He’d finish off with yoga and meditation, centering his mind, body, and spirit, before hopping into the warm shower. He’d always leave the bathroom door open in case you woke up, ready to goofily tease you before you even remembered where you were.
“You like what you see, baby?” He’d wink, holding his Discobolus pose as you shook your head.
“Put some clothes on, Zeus,” you rolled back over but soon heard footsteps approaching.
“I’m offended that you’d compare me to the most promiscuous man on Mt. Olympus,” he kneeled next to the bed, grabbing your chin in his hand. “I’d prefer to be Perseus, and have my Andromeda ruling at my side.”
“It’s too early,” you dragged out the syllables as Issei rested his hand on your hip beneath the covers.
“What do you want for breakfast, sweetie? I can make pancakes,” he pressed a kiss to your hand resting on the pillow. You nodded, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders.
“I’m sure Perseus wore pants.” He rose, grabbing a pair of cobalt blue boxer briefs from the shared dresser.
“I’m sure Andromeda made the pancakes.”
Your arms found their way around Issei’s firm torso while he flipped each finished pancake on either of the two plates on the counter. He had a system, every other pancake was chocolate chip, “maybe you’ll be sweeter to me if I give you sugar,” he’d always say. The plain ones were for him, though he would spread peanut butter over them anyway. He’d learned that from you the first time he had made you pancakes, the first time you had spent the night in his arms.
“Do you want anything else, angel?” You shook your head against his back. He carefully turned around, handing you your plate. “I’m surprised you’re up so early,” he laughed.
“It was cold last night, had you brought out the winter blankets like I asked, I probably wouldn’t be.” You had made your way to the stool at the counter by now, cutting into your pancakes eagerly. It was his turn to hold you now, nuzzling his face into your neck after leaving a soft kiss on your jaw.
“Just say you missed me, baby. That’s okay, too.”
“Do you want to meet at that ramen place for lunch?” Issei was getting ready for his break, awaiting your text response. He was going to go anyway, he hadn’t packed any food. He just wouldn’t mind picking you up on his way.
“I can’t, I have a lunch meeting.” He frowned, those usually meant the worst for you.
“Do you want me to drop something off for you?”
“I’m not hungry,” he rolled his eyes before putting his phone back in his pocket, walking calmly down the street.
He had been battling your loss of appetite due to stress for the entirety of your relationship without much luck. He had never been one to push, but sometimes the only food he could assure you ate was breakfast. He had only gotten you to eat breakfast by making dinner early, leaving you starving by morning. It was only on bad days, it’s like your body would forget. Sometimes you noticed, but were afraid of getting sick if you ate something when you had already felt “full.”
He ate his ramen, debating bringing some back for dinner. There had been weeks where you ate the equivalent of one large meal a day. Every ‘not hungry’ made him fear a week like that, making food that you’d barely touch and praying you’d take it to work with you tomorrow so you wouldn’t wither away. His only solution up to this point was eating, and reminding you that normally this is when you’d eat too. Using your love for routine against you was his only hope, and it hadn’t been working as well as he wanted.
He could tell you felt bad about not eating, that you felt bad about worrying him. What else were you supposed to do if you simply weren’t hungry? Force feeding only made you feel inadequate, you felt full after half a sandwich or a few bites of pasta. The thought of eating a full protein made you sick. At your lowest points you’d start crying while watching tv with him, watching him snack on something you couldn’t bare the thought of consuming. ‘Issei, what’s wrong with me?’ He never knew what to say. When you got stressed your body simply refused fuel, and that worried him.
“How was work, angel?” His job had given him the ability to appear entirely composed regardless of the environment. You could never tell if he was stressed unless he dropped the facade and told you. When it was about you, he’d never tell you. When it was about you, though, you could tell. Issei was always caring. If he could tell you were in distress he’d pull out all the stops. He’d light lavender candles, he’d cook, he’d clean the counter. He wouldn’t complain if you wanted to watch something he didn’t, he wasn’t planning on taking his attention off of your subtle emotional responses.
“It was okay,” you lied. He already knew it wasn’t, but you didn’t want to talk about it. He always got home before you did, he didn’t have nearly as many responsibilities as you did. His work didn’t change, yours did. New projects meant new worries and new responsibilities.
“I’m almost done making dinner,” you had dropped your things by the door as soon as you stepped inside, making your way towards the man slaving over a pot of chicken soup. “I took the winter blankets out, I thought this might help warm you up.” You snaked your arms around his waist, hiding your face into his back as it warmed up, holding the tears welling up in your eyes. You could eat a little bit of soup, just a little bit, if it would make him feel better.
“Thank you,” you let out a deep sigh into his back. “I’m gonna shower.” He was already in his ‘pajamas.’ Issei ran too hot to sleep in anything but underwear, but enjoyed lounging around the house in your oversized Batman pants. You’d offered to buy him his own so you could match, but he said it wouldn’t be the same.
You both sunk onto the couch, searching for something comforting to watch. Maybe a disney movie, or something else you’d seen a million times. “You know how I played volleyball in high school?”
“Yeah, why?” You hadn’t forgotten. He even taught you how to play so your beach trips would be more fun.
“After practice Makki and I would compete to see who could make the better protein shake. I always won.” You laughed, probably way too much.
“You’re bragging to me about protein shakes you made 10 years ago?”
“What? They were good! Have some faith in me,” the movie kept playing, he tightened his grip around your waist. “I have no clue how I’d drink one everyday, though. If I had one now I’d probably puke. Oh, the joys of youth,” he laughed.
“Are you still hungry or something?” He wasn’t, his teenage athlete appetite had gone away as he aged.
“I was thinking about dessert.”
“I’ve had your protein shakes, I wouldn’t consider them a sweet treat.” He gasped, feigning offense.
“You know how much I hate protein powder, you think I was downing that everyday in high school?” You looked at him confused. His current protein shakes weren’t bad, for a protein shake at least. “It’s an acquired taste, and I still hold my nose and chug it.”You laughed at one of your favorite Matsukawa quirks.
“So why'd you stop making them taste good?”
“I was too broke in college to buy all that ice cream.”
“Ice cream? For protein shakes?” He rolled his eyes before pausing the movie.
“I’m gonna make you one, you’re underestimating my 17 year old metabolism.” He stood up, gesturing that you stay put. Issei was having another chaotic urge, apparently.
You turned on the couch, facing the kitchen instead of the tv. He began pulling every sugary food out of the pantry and fridge. Every flavor of ice cream, cookies, granola bars, peanut butter, anything and everything sweet. “You’re using all of that?” He nodded, haphazardly throwing everything in the blender followed by some milk, chocolate syrup, and two scoops of his protein powder. This really was a chaotic recipe, straight from the mind of a gross teenaged boy.
He came back to the couch with glasses for each of them, they looked like they had been filled with a child’s birthday cake puke. “Drink it, I promise it’s good! It’s so you can’t taste the protein powder.” It probably just tastes like chocolate and peanut butter, but you were still hesitant to drink it. “I promise, the team always liked mine better than Makki's.”
You held the glass up to your mouth, slowly drinking it, widening your eyes when you realized how good it actually was. You understood now. Your 26 year old bodies would cease to function if you had these everyday. You couldn’t pull the glass away until you were done.
“Yeah, I definitely didn’t think it’d be that good.” You laughed, wiping your upper lip.
“You couldn’t taste the protein powder right?” You nodded, watching him sip slowly on his, as his face suddenly scrunched up. “You know, I ate a lot at dinner. I probably shouldn’t drink the rest of this. You want it?” You shrugged, taking the glass out of his hand, drinking the rest like you hadn’t eaten anything all day. Oh wait, he thought. You haven’t for 14 hours. Oh wait, he thought, this is it. This was the solution to his biggest worry. A hidden reset button, your sweet tooth.
Author’s note: this is my first time posting a fic please be gentle
You were laying on the couch with your boyfriend, hand reaching beneath the hem of his shirt, fingers ghosting over his toned abdomen just to feel the warmth of his skin. The room wasn’t cold, but that was more so due to the man running hot beneath you. Your fingers continued to dance over each abdominal muscle, not wanting to seem overeager until he lurches forward slightly, grabbing your wrist gently.
“Baby, that tickles,” he giggles. “But if you wanna massage my muscles instead I won’t stop you.” You blush, a mutual understanding that was what you wanted anyway. You would’ve stopped if it hadn’t been for the tone of his voice, but you nodded, lying.
You sat up to straddle him, lifting the hem of his shirt slowly, sensually. “Sweetie, what are you doing?” You continue your dance, leaning towards him, laying down on him while working your fingers into his muscles.
“Nothing,” you smiled devilishly before leaning in for a kiss, just enough to distract him. Once you felt something familiar poking your thigh, you attacked, tickling his tummy as he laughed and writhed beneath you, looking for any way to get you to stop while being held under your weight on the small couch. You were laughing with him, your giggle one of joy.
He caught your wrists firmly, gently raising your bodies to sit. “Please,” he begged between pants. “I’ll order us waffles if you stop.”
“And?” You positioned both sets of hands on his waist.
“We could go back to what was happening before,” he smirked. “That was fun.” You shook your head, causing him to roll his eyes. “Baby we can’t have waffles and protein shakes, you can’t eat that much.” Your pout formed. “I’m not 17 anymore, baby, if I eat that much I’ll get sick!” Your bottom lip jutted out further, eyes widening. “Okay, but we split one! Just promise no more tickles!” You nodded, planting a kiss on his temple from above as he hesitantly dropped your wrists in exchange for his phone.
“Can we have the milkshakes now?” You poked his chest, trying to distract him from his order.
“No baby, with dinner. We’re having waffles, remember?” He rolled his eyes before putting the phone back in his pocket. He couldn’t stand to see you pout. You wrapped your arms around his neck, signaling him to carry you. “But I guess we can make them now.”
He stood up, setting you down on the counter with a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Author’s note: this is my first time posting a fic please be gentle
You were laying on the couch with your boyfriend, hand reaching beneath the hem of his shirt, fingers ghosting over his toned abdomen just to feel the warmth of his skin. The room wasn’t cold, but that was more so due to the man running hot beneath you. Your fingers continued to dance over each abdominal muscle, not wanting to seem overeager until he lurches forward slightly, grabbing your wrist gently.
“Baby, that tickles,” he giggles. “But if you wanna massage my muscles instead I won’t stop you.” You blush, a mutual understanding that was what you wanted anyway. You would’ve stopped if it hadn’t been for the tone of his voice, but you nodded, lying.
You sat up to straddle him, lifting the hem of his shirt slowly, sensually. “Sweetie, what are you doing?” You continue your dance, leaning towards him, laying down on him while working your fingers into his muscles.
“Nothing,” you smiled devilishly before leaning in for a kiss, just enough to distract him. Once you felt something familiar poking your thigh, you attacked, tickling his tummy as he laughed and writhed beneath you, looking for any way to get you to stop while being held under your weight on the small couch. You were laughing with him, your giggle one of joy.
He caught your wrists firmly, gently raising your bodies to sit. “Please,” he begged between pants. “I’ll order us waffles if you stop.”
“And?” You positioned both sets of hands on his waist.
“We could go back to what was happening before,” he smirked. “That was fun.” You shook your head, causing him to roll his eyes. “Baby we can’t have waffles and protein shakes, you can’t eat that much.” Your pout formed. “I’m not 17 anymore, baby, if I eat that much I’ll get sick!” Your bottom lip jutted out further, eyes widening. “Okay, but we split one! Just promise no more tickles!” You nodded, planting a kiss on his temple from above as he hesitantly dropped your wrists in exchange for his phone.
“Can we have the milkshakes now?” You poked his chest, trying to distract him from his order.
“No baby, with dinner. We’re having waffles, remember?” He rolled his eyes before putting the phone back in his pocket. He couldn’t stand to see you pout. You wrapped your arms around his neck, signaling him to carry you. “But I guess we can make them now.”
He stood up, setting you down on the counter with a gentle kiss on the forehead.
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