Living with Riruka was… an experience. A fun, chaotic, and very clingy experience.

Your mornings usually started with her practically glued to your side, her long white hair sprawled over the pillow as she buried her face against your neck. She had this habit of draping herself over you like a human blanket, her soft, curvy body pressing into yours while she mumbled half-asleep complaints about getting up.

“Nnngh… don’t move,” she whined, tightening her grip around your waist.

“Riruka, I gotta—”

“Nope.” She nuzzled closer, rubbing her cheek against your chest like a needy cat. “Too comfy. You’re staying right here.”

You sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. You already knew the drill—she lived for physical contact. It was almost instinctual for her, the way she always had to be touching you somehow. Whether it was clinging to your arm when you were sitting on the couch, curling up on your lap while watching anime, or pressing up against you while cooking dinner—Riruka needed that closeness.

And she had zero shame about it.

Like right now, as she stood in the kitchen making breakfast, she had her plump and ample ass pushed back against you as thighs rubbed together. You were just trying to make sure she didn’t burn anything. Her oversized shirt draped over her frame, barely hiding her squishy and large, ample and fat breasts that bounced while she cooked, she was looking back, wiggling her fat ass against you

”Hmmmm, this food smells amazing….”, She moaned out as a tease.