Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

You felt completely fucking stupid right now. You stood in the bedroom of your best friend–at least that’s what you and Nancy called each other in public. That’s what you told Jonathan you were in high school, even though you both got that look in your eye whenever you saw each other. You stood in her bedroom, wide eyed, cheeks and ears and neck burning with an intense heat that you couldn’t seem to shake. Your hands were balled into fists underneath your chin, having dropped what you were holding when she walked in. 

Her panties. 

Nancy was home from college for the first time in ages. You were supposed to be staying over, having a sleepover, like when you were kids. She had taken a shower just down the hall and deposited her dirty clothes in the laundry basket in her room. And, dammit, you just… couldn’t help yourself. She always smelled so good, always had this perfume that smelled designer. And that perfume always mixed with the smell of Nancy. And… 

Who were you kidding? You had no justification for any of it. It was every bit wrong and weird and probably gross, and you knew it. 

It was ridiculous. And it seemed even more so, standing in the middle of her room, trying to look like you hadn’t just been rifling around in her dirty laundry. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Nancy had asked when she walked in. It was the same voice she used on her little brother when he pissed her off, when he pried a little too much into her life, when he annoyed her.

“Uh– I… um…” you stammered, feeling the flush begin to creep down your chest. “I’m– um… I’m sorry. I can– I can go.” 

You started to move toward Nancy’s bedroom door. But her soft voice stopped you. 

“Wait.”

Your hand was hovering over the doorknob. But you were frozen. Was she going to yell at you? Tell you how wrong and weird and stupid and creepy that was? Call the police for some kind of sexual harassment?

“Just… come sit down,” Nancy said, her voice gentler now as you forced yourself to turn around. It was like she realized in the middle of it that she wasn’t upset. Not really. You could see the confusion on her face. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think you saw a spark of hope.

Nancy sat on the edge of her bed, and you followed suit. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears, you could barely hear her when she spoke. But you hung on her every word nonetheless. 

“You like me,” Nancy said. It wasn’t a question. Not clarification. She knew. It made you wonder how long she knew. Had you been walking around high school with a big sign on your forehead that said, “I love Nancy Wheeler?” Or had it just been now, when she caught you nearly inhaling her scent? 

You swallowed hard and forced yourself to answer. “I like you,” you told her with a nod, your voice soft and almost uncertain. 

She let out a breath that came out shaky. Wait… was Nancy fucking Wheeler nervous? Had you scared her that bad?

But before you could respond, she had surged forward and closed the distance between you, her lips locking onto yours like an attack. Your head spun as you breathed in that familiar scent that you had fallen in love with by now. She was everything you ever thought she would be and better. 

When she pulled away, her chest heaved with her breaths, like she hadn’t breathed that entire time. “Then stop screwing around in my laundry,” she demanded, making forceful, aggressive eye contact with you. 

It all happened so fast. Nancy’s lips were on yours again. Her hands were on top of yours, guiding them down her body, and you happily obliged. You touched her everywhere she guided you, even as she climbed into your lap. Even as she pulled away and looked at you with lust-darkened eyes, you let her guide you. 

“Isn’t this what you want?” she asked in that low, almost teasing voice as she guided your hands to her chest, and you squeezed—small, perky, perfect. She insisted on looking at you, even though you wanted to beg to kiss her again. You’d been wanting to kiss her all through high school.

You let out a pathetic little breath. “Please,” you begged, your voice coming out ragged and desperate, when what you wanted was to sound cocky, confident. 

Nancy tugged playfully on the hair at the base of your neck. “Should’ve said something forever ago,” she teased, guiding your hands lower, lower, until they were gripping her thighs and wrapping them further around your waist. “Y’know, instead of being all creepy.”

You smiled a little at her teasing and began to melt into her again. 

You were hers from the start. And she wasn’t going to let you forget it. Not tonight, anyway. 

Jesus fucking Christ, this was so much better than he had ever imagined.

Asahi had seen you across the room at an event. At first, it was just a fashion show, Asahi’s designs being featured. Then another, a gala hosted by Zealdence, where he discovered that you were a model–fuck, he wanted you to wear his clothes. Over and over again, he would lock eyes with you for a moment or two, only to believe he would never see you again. He’d go back to his hotel room and relieve his tension with thoughts of you. You, with your cute little red cocktail dress. You, with your gorgeous eyes. You, who only came up to his chest, even in those heels. Yes, those heels. The ones you wore tonight that brought you up at least four inches, but it still wasn’t enough to meet his lips without him having to dip his head.

Asahi never would have dreamed that you’d come up and speak to him, let alone agree to go back to his room after the event. 

Now those gorgeous heels were off. Both shoes were kicked off somewhere off to the side of his hotel room. You’d find them later, you guessed, but they were none of your concern. Your shoes, the dress he’d all but ripped off of you, your smudged makeup after you tried to take him into your throat… None of that was any of your business, you told yourself. Because Asahi was looking up at you like you were the sun, moon, and stars all melted into one glorious, perfect being. 

“That’s it… Please don’t stop…” Asahi groaned through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure. You were so little. And now he was discovering just how small you were everywhere. 

Your pussy clamped around his cock, you sank down, centimeter by aching centimeter. Your mouth dropped open in a pretty little O-shape; your legs started to tremble. This was getting more difficult by the second, especially because Asahi was absolutely perfect at foreplay. He treated it like a game. How long could he tease you before you started begging? Before your dripping cunt made a mess on the hotel bedsheets? “Baby…” Asahi moaned, starting to sit up and interrupting your thoughts. “Let me take over–”

“No,” you interrupted, hands pushing on his shoulder, as if that would be enough to keep Asahi Azumane pinned to the bed. You just wanted to come. But you were stubborn, determined to take him fully all on your own. He stayed in place, his face flushed as he got that look again. Sun. Moon. Stars. You. “I want to ride your massive fucking cock. And you’re not gonna stop me.”

For a moment, Asahi just stared at you with that look on his face. Your hands were firmly on his chest, his shoulders, and for some reason, it made his entire body tingle. Asahi blinked and shook his head, snapping out of his hypnotic trance. He could see the struggle on your face, your brows pinched together, your lip swollen from being caught between your teeth. He just wanted to push into you so bad, to just fuck you like he had pictured all this time. 

But he was patient. 

He watched your face contort in pain mixed with pleasure as you forced yourself down the rest of the way. Asahi’s eyes widened and he nearly whimpered. Your body tensed and stilled above him, and your hands tightened on his shoulders. Did you hurt yourself? God, was he hitting your cervix? He had no clue, too lost in the trance of your pussy on his dick to really pay much attention, but he knew you couldn’t take any more of him even if you wanted to.

And fuck, it was a stretch. You fell forward, your head resting on Asahi’s shoulder as your chest heaved with the deep breaths you forced in and out of your lungs. You wanted to ride him. You wanted to make him feel good. But this was just… so much. 

“Asahi…” you whimpered against his neck. You started to roll your hips against his. You weren’t fully bouncing on him, not fully riding him. But this was as close as you could get without just giving in and letting him have his way.

Asahi’s mouth dropped open, and he groaned as you began to move, his voice low and deep. He bit his lip to hold back any more sounds, but you just felt so good, squeezing his cock so tightly… “Sweet girl… Please…” he begged in a whisper, not wanting to sound so desperate for the woman he’d been eyeballing for weeks, maybe months. “Please… I wanna make you come…”

The idea made your hips stutter, your pace nearly stopping entirely. You lifted your head to look at Asahi where he lay underneath you. God, he was hot. You had noticed before. Of course you had noticed. But having him underneath you, his dick buried deep into you… It almost seemed unfair how pretty he was. Tan skin. Flushed cheeks. Long hair splayed out on the mattress under him. Dark brown eyes. Pupils blown wide with adoration and lust. What would that look like hanging over you, bullying into you like you were a tiny little doll?

“Asahi…” you whispered, making sure he was looking right into your eyes. “Fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He flipped you over easily. In Asahi’s grip, you were nothing more than a ragdoll. He pushed into you further, his pace slow and deliberate as he peppered stubbly kisses all down your neck and collarbone, raising goosebumps on your arms and making your nipples pebble. When he pulled away to start picking up his pace, you saw it. 

Yep. Just as beautiful. 

Sun. Moon. Stars.

Armin laid on the bed underneath you. He was breathless at this point, your knees resting on either side of his head. His eyes were closed as you hovered just above him, just barely out of reach for his tongue.

He could smell your scent, exactly the extent of your arousal. You were dripping after teasing him for what felt like hours. Oh, you must have been so needy it hurt. Armin knew he could fix it. He knew he could make you feel better if only you would just close that gap, lower your hips, let him lap at your folds. “Please,” he whimpered. You could barely hear him when he spoke, but you could see the tent growing in his pants. His member twitched as it strained against the fabric.

You smiled, though Armin couldn’t see it. “Please what, baby?” you asked, your fingertips dancing over his hip bones, lifting his shirt to expose the skin. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

“Please, let me taste you,” he whined. You heard the desperation in his voice, the way even his lungs cried out, longing to devour you.

You huffed a laugh, deciding to toy with the button on his pants. The muscles in his belly twitched in response, and fuck, it only made you needier. Armin, your love, the commander of the Survey Corps, reduced to twitches and whimpers under your touch and begging for more. 

“You know what you have to say then,” you told him, your voice low and teasing. He’d have to say it eventually. That was the deal you made. You’d tease him endlessly until he used that word on you. But you hadn’t calculated just how detrimental this plan would be to your own arousal. 

You unbuttoned his pants and smirked to yourself when you saw how his dick twitched under your touch. Your own sex convulsed in response and leaked your arousal. Armin was so desperate, eyes locked onto you as your hips hovered above him. His mouth watered at the thought of what your pussy tastes like. He fucking loved eating you out. He loved being the person to make you come. He looked up at your back, the only part of you he could see, the only clothing on your body being your binder. Perfect, he thought, staring at the fabric in a futile attempt to get his dick to stop twitching and leaking. 

“Please!” Armin whined. “I promise, I’ll make you feel good. I promise, I’ll do it just the way you like.” He started to lift his head to get your sex within reach. But you were too quick for him, and you pulled your body away, making him whine at the cruel torture. His head fell back onto the bed.

“That wasn’t the right answer,” you scolded with a smirk on your face that you knew he couldn’t see.

Armin knew the right answer. He said it all the time. And it wasn’t that he was uncomfortable saying it, like you had asked him so many times. It was that he enjoyed saying it way too much. Each and every time he thought about that word, the way it made you react, his face glowed like a beacon. 

You slid his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, and he kicked them out of the way. His member rested against his belly, hard and aching, the tip an angry shade of red. Fuck, he was needy, and you were, too. You felt a jolt to your clit when you saw it, but you wouldn’t give in. Not yet. He’d give in and say it eventually, and you couldn’t get your mind off the way it would feel when he finally did. 

You had to get him to say it so you could give him his reward. You dismounted his face, and you looked at him, your thumb swiping across his jaw. There was something he loved even more than eating you out. “Tell you what,” you propositioned, straddling his waist and kissing his forehead. “I’ll sweeten the deal a little,” you began to explain, grinding yourself against his cock. He could feel how wet you were, just from one touch of your pussy. “If you say it, I’ll let you come inside me,” you offered.

Armin’s eyes lit up, and his cock twitched against you. Just the thought made him want to come then and there, if only he didn’t need you to touch him for that to happen. You tried not to smile at the reaction. You knew you had him now. “Please,” he whimpered, his hips squirming underneath you, searching for another touch. But then he thought of that word he had to say. He tried to suppress his embarrassment, but he couldn’t prevent his face from turning bright red.

“Please what baby?” you encouraged him, resting the tip of his dick at your entrance. You were so close to letting him slip inside you. But you wouldn’t. Not yet.

He whimpered a few more times as you unbuttoned his shirt, suppressing the need that was building in his body and settling in his belly. But when you started to run your warm hands over his abs, his stomach, he felt goosebumps raise on his chest, and he snapped. “Please ride me daddy!” Armin whined. There it is. You slipped his cock inside you and lowered yourself all the way down. He sighed at the feeling of finally having you wrapped around him, the oxygen momentarily stolen from his lungs.

“That’s a good boy,” you smiled, suppressing the whine that you wanted to let out at the stretch you felt. You started to raise and lower yourself on top of him, feeling Armin in every nook and cranny of your senses. 

You reached down to rub your own clit. You wanted both of you to be able to come, and you knew Armin wasn’t going to last after all the torment you’d put him through. But Arming pushed your hand out of the way. “Please let me do it, daddy,” he requested. “I wanna make you feel good.”

You smiled a little at Armin’s sweetness. He only wanted to make you come. You allowed him to dip his thumb into your arousal and start rubbing your clit. And fuck, it felt so good. Your sex pulsed around Armin’s dick as you bounced up and down on him. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you baby?” you praised him. Armin was right before. He could make you feel good exactly the way you needed. You sighed and moaned at his touch as you rode him, getting closer to your high with every second.

“Please feel good for me,” he moaned as he felt each tap of your hips against his. Armin wanted to feel you come around him. He thirsted for your pleasure, wanted to serve you to the best of his ability. But he was already so close to coming! He was sure if you didn’t stop right now, he’d burst within seconds. Between little whimpers, he managed to warn you, “‘m gonna–”

But he couldn’t even finish the three words before he was releasing, hot ropes of sticky come coating your inner walls. You felt it in your deepest reaches, and you stopped riding him just before the pleasure would’ve been too much for him to handle. You sighed. You were so close to your own release. But you couldn’t keep going, knowing how overstimulated he must feel now. With his cock still inside you, you leaned forward and kissed his face all over. “‘M s-sorry,” he stammered, waiting for the teasing or the punishment to follow. “I’m so sorr-ry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered between kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. But the apologies kept coming. You brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes, and you tried to turn his attention to your face. “Hey, look at me,” you whispered, your thumb gently stroking his jaw. When his eyes finally met yours, you told him, “It’s alright. I promise.”

You got off of him, feeling fuller with his seed inside you, your pussy still convulsing around nothing. You laid next to him, and you gathered him in your arms, his head nestled in your chest. Soon, though, he moved. You let him settle himself between your legs. He’d get what he originally wanted after all. 

He pushed two of his fingers into you, curling them upward while attaching his mouth to your clit. Your head spun as his tongue flickered against you just right. He devoured you as if he’d never eat again, relishing in your moans and the way your fingers speared into his hair. He could lay there for hours, making you come over and over and over. But just one was his mission for now. 

Armin had laid underneath you for so long, wishing you’d just allow him one taste. If only you’d let him make you feel good before…

That didn’t matter now, though. Now, Armin was able to push his fingers into your heat over and over, to wet his face in your juices and prove to you just how good he can be. “Fuck, you’re so good, baby,” you praised, tugging gently on his hair to keep all his focus on you. Armin loved the feeling, but you didn’t have to ask for his attention at all. It was all yours to begin with. 

You were extremely worked up, too. It didn’t take long for the pressure in your belly to beg for its release. Your moans became uncontrollable as Armin suckled on your clit. You came hard, your orgasm washing over your body and making you shake. You hadn’t meant to be so needy. But it felt so good when Armin was so desperate to make you feel this way.

As you came down from your orgasm, Armin devoured you for several more seconds, making you squirm in overstimulation. “Baby,” you said, pulling your body away from him. “Too much, too much,” you reminded him. 

Armin sighed, and his cheeks turned red. “Sorry,” he said, getting up and meeting your face for a kiss. You could taste your cum on his lips, but you didn’t care. You pulled him into your arms, and he nestled himself into you again. You knew that sleep would soon follow when his legs tangled with yours. You wanted to thank each other, but you remembered that this is just what lovers do. They make each other feel good. And you couldn’t ask for more than that. 

It was so very rare that the team all got to go out like this. 

You were excited to be out. You usually drank way too much, got Garcia to drive you home, and ended up ordering far too much Chinese food for one person. It was a chance to be a person. Not a cop. Not a hero to some family. Just a girl. 

You were sitting at the bar, three drinks in. You were on the edge of being drunk, just enough alcohol in your bloodstream to make you smiley and giggly and much more fun than whoever you had to be at the office or in the field. And even though you all showed up to the bar together, it seemed like you all wanted your space. Morgan was off dancing with some girl. JJ and Emily and Garcia were all laughing and playing darts. And Spencer was… wait, where did he go?

You spun around to see Spencer awkwardly sitting at a table. Just a few minutes ago, you thought he was hanging out with a few people, talking about Star Trek and Doctor Who and all those things he loves so much. But now he’s alone and looking around like he’s a fish out of water. 

You stood with your drink and made your way over to your best friend. “Hey,” you said, loud enough for him to hear over the music. “You okay?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I’m fine,” he said, but something about the way he said it told you that he was absolutely not fine. You squinted at him playfully, and he rolled his eyes a little bit. “Everybody left. I’m kinda lost now.”

You smiled a little at him. You looked over at Morgan, who was dancing with some girl he met probably about five minutes ago, and you suddenly got an idea. You extended a hand to Spencer.

Spencer looked down at your hand, then back up at your face. “What?” he asked playfully with a brow raised. 

“Dance with me,” you said with a sweet smile on your face. 

Spencer’s face glowed red like a Christmas tree. “I–I don’t–uh…”

“Oh, come on, you big baby,” you said. You set your drink down, grabbed his hand, and dragged him out onto the dancefloor.

You weren’t sure what happened in those ten seconds, but when Spencer’s hands finally settled on your waist where they belonged, it felt like time stopped. Your hands came to rest on his shoulders. For a moment, you swore the music stopped entirely, but you convinced yourself it was just your drunkenness. 

You were not dancing to the music. You were just looking up at Spencer incredulously. He was so pretty, and you were so drunk, and he just swayed back and forth far too slowly for the music to actually be affecting either of you in any way. 

You finally seemed to come back to reality when the song changed. Simultaneously, you and Spencer both pulled your hands away. If you hadn’t been so focused on keeping your own face from lighting on fire, you would’ve noticed that Spencer’s face and ears and neck were all glowing bright pink. 

“I should… Uh…” he muttered, awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You shook your head, as if that would help shake you out of whatever moment just passed between the two of you. “Yeah, I should… probably get home,” you answered. 

But even as you stepped away from him, there was no denying what just happened. 

You fell in love with Spencer.

Eren Jaeger

Definitely not planned or romantic.

It’s going to be a spur of the moment decision.

You found him. 

You nearly couldn’t believe it. After months apart, of him trying to infiltrate enemy territory. And you would’ve been so mad at him for disappearing if it wasn’t for the thousand pound weight that lifted from your chest when you finally saw Eren’s face again. 

Now, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was behind bars against the wall of his prison cell, but it was definitely him. Long greasy hair, his skin marred with new injuries and grime. But it was him. And, God, you were pissed at him. You wanted to yell at him, or better yet, punch him in his face. You wanted that so badly you were sure the bars were more for his protection, rather than keeping him caged. But more than that… you were just happy to see him again. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Eren finally said, his voice rough. It was like he hadn’t really spoken to anyone for a long time, like his voice wasn’t used to fitting in his mouth. 

“Like what?” you asked, suddenly snapping out of your thoughts.

Eren tilted his head, a loose hair falling in front of his face. “Like I’m going to disappear if you blink for too long,” he answered. 

You blinked. You let your anger show for just a moment to say, “And how am I supposed to know you won’t?” It was a fair question. Months had passed, but you could remember the fear that gripped you when you realized he was gone. 

Eren tilted his head back to its original position. “Marry me,” he said. It wasn’t a request.

“What?” you uttered. You could feel the color drain from your face. How could he ask such a thing? How dare he ask you to marry him after being away for months, not even bothering to let you know he was alive. And how dare he ask you in a prison cell.

“Marry me,” he said again. “I mean it. This will all be over soon. After it’s all said and done… Let’s get married.”

You were speechless. Was he for real? Did he really intend such a thing? From the outside looking in, someone might have predicted this. You and Eren had been inseparable from the moment you both joined the Training Corps as children. But… This was far too real for you to even begin thinking this through. Your answer left your lips of its own will, without your ability to stop it. 

“Okay.”

Mikasa Ackerman

Mikasa wouldn’t marry for a long time after Eren.

It would take her years to recover from that loss.

But then she found you.

Mikasa didn’t ever think she would heal. 

After losing Eren, she was… broken, for lack of a better term. She had never allowed herself to feel things so deeply, but… that grief was all consuming, something she had never experienced in her life. Her person was… gone. 

For several years, she went through life, just barely going through the motions. Feeding herself. Working. Talking to people. But she was barely Mikasa. She didn’t know who that was. 

Then, years after everything was over, she met you. 

You ran one of the stalls in the market, and you nearly always offered her something when she walked past. She thought maybe you were just a good salesperson. All the merchants offer passersby a taste of something. But you seemed to be waiting for her specifically. 

Your relationship had been slow-going. You started out just having small conversations when she passed by your stall. Then longer ones where you got to know each other. And slowly but surely, things grew into something Mikasa never thought she would need or want or deserve. 

How is this possible? Mikasa thought to herself late at night, when you laid asleep by her side. How was it possible for her to care about someone so deeply? This was… so different from whatever she had with Eren. You were… healthy. And stable. And you cared so much for her in a way that she never had to wonder how you felt. 

And there was no argument that she and Eren loved each other. He was her family, her home, until he couldn’t possibly be those things anymore. But what she had with you was something new and beautiful, and she decided right then, in that moment, that she could never allow herself to lose you. 

Mikasa shifted in bed to lay closer to you. She draped an arm over your waist, her face tucked into the space between your neck and your shoulder. You stirred ever-so-slightly at the movement, the contact, and your arms instinctively wrapped around Mikasa to pull her closer. 

“‘re you okay, love?” you asked sleepily, not even opening your eyes as you gently rubbed her back. 

Mikasa nodded against your shoulder. After a moment, you swore you heard her whisper, “Marry me.”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. You pulled away from Mikasa’s arms to look at her face. Did you really hear that? Had she really just… asked you to marry her? “What did you say?” you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow.

Mikasa rolled on her back to look at you in the dark. There was no deception, no joke in her eyes. Though, you guessed that joking about something this important was not something Mikasa would do. “Marry me,” she repeated. “I want to get married.”

Your expression softened immediately. Your hand cradled her face. This was big, especially for Mikasa. You looked at her incredulously. You must’ve taken far too long to answer, because she asked, “Y/N, will you marry me?”

Your answer was a clumsy, sleepy, loving kiss. 

Armin Arlert

Armin would propose in a really traditional way.

He’s so sweet and careful, and he remembers every little thing about you. 

There was no way you’d ever say no.

How could things possibly have gotten better?

When Armin finally came back to Paradis for good, he was a completely different person from when he left. He knew this, and it was obvious to anyone who knew him before, though he supposed there weren’t many people around who would’ve remembered the old him.

He was busy nearly constantly, working as an ambassador and leading peace talks. It was an exhausting life, but one that he wouldn’t trade for the world. 

But as soon as Armin laid eyes on you, he knew he had to slow down. 

He met you in the small cafe you owned. You served tea and coffee and little bakery items. He had only come in to get out of the torrential downpour that seemed to take over at random. Armin came into your cafe looking like a wet dog. Your cafe provided a warm, dry safe haven. And things got even warmer when you looked up from cleaning the counter and his eyes locked with yours. 

He knew that he fell first, because he fell for you immediately. You offered him a hot cup of tea and a small apple tart on the house, just to make up for the crappy day he seemed to be having, and he insisted on paying anyway. When you declined, he left the money on his table anyway. 

You saw him nearly every day after that. It took him weeks to work up the courage to ask you to go to dinner with him, and months to ask if you would be his girlfriend. Life seemed to become so much… simpler with you around. Armin’s busy days no longer felt chaotic to him. When he confessed that to you one night, you told him it was probably because he slowed down to make time for you, but he joked that you had some magical effect on him anyway. 

Today, God seemed to be smiling down on Armin. It was the anniversary of that day, the moment you had met. Armin saw the clouds in the sky, heard the thunder rumbling in the distance, and he knew this was his opportunity. The rain started to pour, and Armin ran through the rain, letting his clothes get soaked before stepping into your cafe, dripping wet. There was nobody else in the shop. The storm seemed to be chasing everyone away.

“Welcome in,” you called from behind the counter. But when you turned around to see Armin, a smile lit up your face. “Hi,” you said instead.

Armin didn’t say anything as he sat down at the same table where he sat all those years ago. You knew what he wanted. He did this nearly every year, except for one when he was asked to go away for peace talks with another nation. But every other year besides that one, he sat right in that spot. 

You made your way around to his table. “You look like you're having a rough day,” you said, just like all those years ago. You brought him his cup of tea and his apple tart, the dishes clinking softly on the table. “It’s on me this time.”

When you first met him, he had looked up at you so sheepishly. He was so shy, so nervous to even say a word. But now, a playful smile lit up his face, an almost giddy look behind his eyes. “Oh, but I insist,” he said, reaching into his pocket for something.

When he pulled out his hand, he held a small box. 

You felt your face drain of any color. Your hands fell to your sides, and you instinctively stepped back half a pace. “What… What are you doing?” you stammered.

Armin’s other hand came to open the box. Inside was the prettiest ring… Oh, this is happening, you thought. 

“Today, four years ago, I met you exactly like this,” Armin begins, his face covered in a soft, loving smile. “I had no idea that you would become the most important part of my life. I had no idea that I would love you as much as I do. I don’t even think I knew what loving somebody felt like until I laid eyes on you.”

The room went agonizingly quiet, the only sound the rain tapping on the window and the quiet thunder overhead. 

“Y/N… Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes,” you said, nearly interrupting him. You surged forward, and your lips met his, your fingers tangled in his hair. 

In the moment, it was the happiest you had ever been.

Izuku Midoriya

It wasn’t too often that you and Izuku actually got to go out on a date. You texted all the time, but your jobs made your lives so busy that you didn’t have much time for little adventures. Today, though, you had planned to go to the natural history museum. 

You and Midoriya were walking around next to the T-Rex exhibit when you heard the scream of a little kid around the corner. Instinctively, both of your gazes whipped to see a little boy who seemed to have lost his grown-ups. Before Midoriya could even say anything, you knelt down in front of the little boy and spoke so gently. “Hey there,” you said, coaxing the little kid to try and calm down to talk to you. “Are you okay?”

The little boy rubbed one of his eyes and took a stuttering breath. “Want Mama,” was all he was able to get out. 

“Come on,” you had said, extending a hand to the little boy. You took him to a security guard and stayed with him all the way until his parents came to find him. 

When Midoriya asked you about it later, you only said, “Well I couldn’t just leave him! He was already so scared.”

And his heart warmed, thinking about the prospect that any child the two of you made together would be sensitive, too. And that you’d be prepared for all of it.

Ochaco Uraraka

The fact that you were doing this in the first place was asking a lot. 

You knew that when Uraraka said she would teach you to fight. You had mentioned taking self-defense classes in passing, especially because she was a hero, so strong and cool and perfect. But that led to Ochaco begging you to just let her train you. And how could you say no to her ever?

That was how you ended up in a gym with her, your shoulders pinned to a mat four times in a row. Your muscles ached. You were sweating. You were sorely out of shape in a way you didn’t realize until that day. And she was trying to be so sweet and encouraging, but it was hard to stay motivated when your girlfriend was kicking your ass at any opportunity. 

“That was better!” she said encouragingly. “Try that again, but this time, let the momentum carry your leg for the follow-through. It’ll help you keep your balance.”

You got up and did the drill again. And again. And again. And finally, you had her pinned by the shoulders to the mat, a look of pride and satisfaction in your eyes, even if you were drenched in sweat. Both of you were breathing heavily, but when she saw that look on you, she decided she wanted to see it every single day.

Shoto Todoroki

One thing about your relationship with Shoto, the two of you had a routine. You took turns in each other’s apartments, alternating where you spent the night. You took turns making dinner, although most of Shoto’s nights to cook involved takeout from somewhere because he was just so busy. Your lives were mapped out perfectly. 

So it was really odd when Shoto came into your apartment and went straight to your bedroom without so much as a hello. You took it upon yourself to go check on him. You poked your head through your bedroom door. “Hey–” you gently called, cutting yourself off when you saw Shoto sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. You saw him tense a little at the sound of his voice. 

“Sweetheart,” you called, stepping further into the room and crouching in front of him. You gently tugged his hands from his face so you could hold them. “What’s wrong?” 

Shoto closed his eyes and sighed. “I… don’t know,” he said apprehensively. You could tell that he stopped himself from however he was going to answer. But you didn’t want to push any further. He would talk when he was ready, and not a moment before. 

“D’you need a minute?” you asked, one of your hands resting on his knee. “Or do you wanna cuddle a little before dinner?”

Shoto’s eyes snapped to yours at the mention of cuddling. After a quick agreement and some shuffling around, he laid his head on your chest and let the steady sound of your heartbeat soothe whatever feeling had made a home in his chest. And he wondered how he had ever survived without you before. 

Tsuyu Asui

You knew Tsu loved to swim. It was kind of a given, considering the fact that she was a frog. After a few dates, she invited you to come swimming with her, even if it was just for a little while. But you had a secret that you weren’t quite ready to give up. 

You had put it off long enough, you decided on the third time she tried to ask you. So you met her at the freshwater beach that she’d invited you too. You tried to stay completely dressed, but with a little coaxing, you realized there was no getting out of it. 

You sat on the shore in your swimsuit, just barely in the water, watching Tsu have fun. She kept coming up to check on you, over and over just to make sure you were still having fun. And of course you were having fun. You were with her.

When she came up to ask why you weren’t swimming, you rubbed the back of your neck and nervously replied, “I, uh… don’t really feel like it.”

Tsu tilted her head and looked up at you. After a beat of silence, she said, “You can’t swim,” rather than asking. Your silence and red cheeks told her all she needed to know. “You could’ve told me that, y’know.” 

She couldn’t understand why you hadn’t said anything. But she realized how lovely you were for stepping out of your comfort zone just to make her happy. You got lots of kisses that night.

Momo Yaoyorozu

It had been so simple, really. 

You and Momo had been out on a couple of dates. You liked her. Really liked her. And she liked you too, more than she thought she would. You talked about anything and everything, and you hung on every word she said, whether she realized it or not. 

Finally, after four or five dates, you decided to just have a night in at your apartment. Almost automatically, you put on some hot water for tea, knowing that you didn’t even have to ask if Momo wanted a cup of tea. 

Momo watched you work in the kitchen, waiting for the tea to brew properly. She wasn’t even paying much attention to what you were doing, only that you were boiling water for tea. She was talking to you about some of the hero work she had been doing, and your individual actions hadn’t even really crossed her mind. 

But then she took a sip of the tea you placed in front of her, and she stopped. 

It was perfect. 

You were perfect.

Mirio Togata

Mirio went out of his way to make your first date perfect. You were none the wiser to his plans. To you, it seemed like any first date. Awkward and flirty and sweet, with just a little corniness, because Mirio doesn’t know how to do things any other way. 

He’d been paying attention to things you liked. You liked books and sweets and bubble tea. You liked colors and soft music and rain. Mirio had you in mind with every plan, even though it seemed spontaneous. Coffee turned into lunch, then dinner, then ice cream. You just couldn’t separate. After getting something fun to drink, he led you on a walk through a park as the sun was setting. 

Even with all of Mirio’s meticulous planning and his attempt at perfection, you still managed to surprise him. You saw a little playground off to the side of the path, and holding his hand, you tugged him toward the swings. “Come swing with me,” you said, a touch of childlike wonder in your voice. 

I’m going to marry her, was the only thought occupying his mind.

This last case sucked.

You suppose all cases kinda suck, because they always involve somebody getting hurt or kidnapped or murdered. But this time, things were different. You came face to face with the unsub, and the unsub decided to use you as a bargaining chip for negotiations. 

Spencer was not a fan.

You had come so close to being one of the victims in this case, and after that, he had this relentless need to just be close to you. Dr. Reid knows this feeling, knows that it’s just the imbalance of cortisol and oxytocin in the brain that makes him need you this way, but that doesn’t stop him from burying himself between your thighs.

And now here he is, lips attached to your clit, fingers curled inside of you, leaving you hanging right on the edge. And, fuck, you’re just so pretty. Your soft moans. Your back arching off the bed. Your eyes shut as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm your entire body. And you taste so sweet, your juices dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he eats you like you’re his last meal. His tongue swipes expertly through your folds, gathering some of your slick just for a taste before he circles your clit. He’s done this a million times, but every time, it seems like you forget just how amazing he is at this. 

“Spence, please…” you whimper, gently tugging on his wild hair. He had already brought you so close to the edge quite a few times. You’re not really sure what he’s trying to accomplish, but God you need to come. 

What you don’t realize is that Spencer’s hips have been shifting the whole time, his hard dick grinding against the bed. He’s so close, too, just from hearing your soft whimpers filling his bedroom. He wants to come so badly. Fuck, this is embarrassing, he thinks for a moment. I’m this close, and I’m not even inside her yet. Your quiet pleading is nearly his undoing. Spencer doesn’t stop this time. He doesn’t pull away. He only whimpers against your cunt as he continues to lap at your clit, fingers curling to hit your most sensitive places over and over again.

The imaginary cord snaps inside of you, and you come hard, your cunt pulsing around Spencer’s fingers. And there it is, the view Spencer has been dying to see. Your back arched, your chest heaving and flushed… You’re so pretty. Before he knows it, he’s spurting his own release onto the bedsheets under his body, making a sticky mess all over his belly that you’re happy to clean up with your tongue.

He noticed. Of course he noticed, because Levi Ackerman notices everything. You had, admittedly, been more tired the last time he came back from a mission, but sometimes that happened. Your husband was in the Scouts. Of course you had trouble sleeping without him when he was away, potentially being maimed or killed by Titans.

But now you were extra tired. And you were nauseous. And now here you were, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, asking to talk to him about something serious. 

“What is it?” Levi asked gruffly as he untied his boots and started to put away his things.

You could admit that now was not a good time to tell him, when he was just getting back from a mission that didn’t go the way he would’ve liked. But you were panicking for the past two weeks, and Levi would know what to do. He always knows what to do.

“I… didn’t bleed this month,” you admitted quietly between deep breaths through your nose. As soon as you said it, time slowed down to a crawl as you monitored Levi’s expression for any reaction. You had talked about this a long time ago, when your relationship just started to get serious. You just couldn’t fathom having a baby with the war going on, with Titans practically on your doorstep. Maybe in another world, but never this one.

A muscle twitched in Levi’s jaw as he processed, allowing his stress to nearly consume him for only a moment. The two of you had been so careful, so diligent. Levi can feel the anger bubbling inside him, building from deep within his chest. And you could see it, although it wasn’t directed at you. Levi simply walked out of the room before he could say something he’d regret. He wanted to have this conversation properly. He wanted to really talk about it, rather than just argue.

But you couldn’t read his mind. To you, you’d just told Levi you were pregnant, and instead of saying something encouraging or reassuring you, he got mad and walked away, which was pretty much your worst nightmare. You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead on them, trying to let Levi have his reaction.

An hour passed before Levi was finally ready to talk about it. You were curled up in bed, too scared of Levi’s real reaction to convince yourself to move. He could hear your soft sniffles, lazy tears that he couldn’t see in the dark rolling down your cheeks.

He sat down on the edge of the bed behind you. He put a hand on your back and rubbed in circles. “Are you sure?” he asked. You could hear the worry in his voice, although he tried to keep it even and calm and be the strong husband you needed. 

You didn’t want that, though. You wanted him.

“Pretty sure,” you said, rolling toward Levi on the bed so he could see you in the low lantern light of the bedroom. “It’s been… eight weeks since I bled last.”

Levi pursed his lips for a moment. For outsiders, that might’ve seemed like nothing. But you knew that Levi was struggling with this idea. Even so, he moved to sit behind you in bed, pulling your back to press against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his hands settled on your belly, as if he could already feel the tiny life inside you.

He could do this if you wanted it. It would be hard, and with the Titans breaking through walls, the child might end up fatherless. But if you wanted it, he would find a way to be okay with it.

Aaron Hotchner

Aaron Hotchner doesn’t really have a physical type. He looks at personality first, and everything else comes later.

He’s always so serious, simply because he needs to be. He needs someone who can make him laugh. 

Aaron also looks for maturity in a person. He wants healthy communication, even if he isn’t always the best at reciprocating.

He really values patience. He’s been through so much, and he needs somebody who’s willing to wait for him to open up, rather than pushing.

He also really doesn’t like someone who comes on too strong, or if they’re too clingy. His person needs to have the capacity to be their own person outside of him.

Jason Gideon

Gideon has a thing for brown eyes, but not really a physical type outside of that. 

He needs someone who is okay with not talking about things. Sometimes, his coping method is just sitting in silence with his person.

He may not realize it, but he needs someone to remind him what it was like to be young and in love. He needs someone to show him what fun is. 

He also values intelligence, but he wants it to come independently. He doesn’t want to have to explain everything to his partner. 

David Rossi

Rossi is the kind of guy who goes around saying he doesn’t have a type, that he loves all women equally. But in reality, he loves a woman with curves. And dark hair, for some unknown reason.

Maturity is really big for him. In fact, I’d say it’s a necessity. I don’t think he would tolerate a partner he sees as immature. 

David wants someone who lets him take the lead. He’s an old school guy. He wants to plan dates and pay for dinner. 

If you can manage to impress Rossi with something, he’ll be wrapped around your finger. He’s sort of a jack of all trades, so this would be really difficult. But I think that if he’s really enamored with someone, he’ll be impressed by everything they do.

Jennifer Jereau

JJ doesn’t care much about looks either, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love a guy with an accent. Who doesn’t, honestly?

She loves someone who can make her laugh, but not in an immature way. 

She loves to be flirted with by the right person. She loves to be swept off her feet and made to feel special, and if you can do that with just words, you’re set.

JJ also likes it when a guy is a little clingy. She wants someone to miss her while she’s away for work. 

Izuku Midoriya

Baby 

Honey

Lovey

Ochaco Uraraka

Babe

Pretty girl / Pretty boy

Some cute inside joke nickname

Shoto Todoroki

Darling

Love

Baby (if he’s feeling extra clingy)

Tsuyu Asui

Usually only says your name

Baby (occasionally)

Probably has cute inside joke nicknames for you, too

Momo Yaoyorozu

Sweetheart

My love

Beautiful

Mirio Togata

Gorgeous, beautiful, etc.

Lovey

Sunshine (sorry)

Tetsuro Kuroo

Kuroo is one possessive motherfucker. At least, compared to the rest of the people on this list. 

He’s happy to always let you have your space, your friends, anything you need.

But the moment he feels like another guy might end up in first place?

Absolutely the fuck not.

There was no reason for Kuroo to worry. He knew it. You knew it. But the moment one of your coworkers started giving you a ride home, he decided things were getting a little too friendly. 

And he would never demand 100% of your time, your attention. That just wasn’t the kind of guy Kuroo was, and it wasn’t realistic anyway. You were a person. You deserved to have your friends, your family, your space, your fun. 

But you were his. And he was going to make sure it was drilled into your head before the night was over. 

“Please, Tetsu–” you all but whined. You didn’t know how long you’d been underneath him at this point. Your entire body was flushed with pleasure. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even come up with words. You had gotten so close at least a dozen times. A dozen edges that felt like a hundred. 

All because of his hands.

Kuroo had his fingers buried inside you now. He’d had them on your clit just minutes ago, though after edging three times it certainly felt like hours. Now, he had your two favorites stuffed inside you, pressing against all your inner buttons and making your head spin. 

“Aww, baby’s being so patient, aren’t you?” Tetsuro purred on his knees in front of you, his free hand pinning your hips to the bed with a bruising grip. “What do you think, princess? If I let you come right now, ‘re you gonna make a mess all over me?”

You knew what he wanted, knew that he wanted you to squirt. But you had only ever done it once for him, and it was a long time ago, when you were both a little too tipsy to care about having to change the sheets afterward. But now? Now, you weren’t sure if you could. 

“You’re still thinking too much, babygirl,” Kuroo said, his voice low and nurturing despite the filthy squelching sounds that his fingers were making inside your ruined pussy. “Eyes on me, princess.” It was a command disguised as a gentle coaxing. Your eyes, glazed over with pleasure and the effort to hold back your orgasm, finally met Tetsuro’s. “There’s my pretty girl,” he purred. 

The imaginary cord inside of you was wound so tight over and over, and you could tell it was about to snap, permission or no. 

“Whose are you, sweet girl?” Kuroo asked. He needed to hear you say it–to make you say it.

Your eyes widened a little bit as you realized, he really might not let you come. “Tets–”

“I said, whose are you?” he repeated. When you still couldn’t seem to find the words, his eyes darkened in that dominant way that only his could manage. “Answer, or I’ll edge you again.”

The edges of panic crept into your mind. You couldn’t handle being edged again. You were already so sensitive. “Yours! Yours, Tetsuro, I’m yours,” you chanted frantically, hoping that this time he’e actually let you come. 

“That’s fucking right,” Kuroo praised. “Now, come. And make a mess all over this fucking bed.”

Kenma Kozume

Honestly, Kenma’s not usually a jealous person. 

He knows you love him, and you’ve never given him a reason not to trust you.

Just like anyone else, though, there are little insecurities. 

And rather than getting possessive or angry, he just finds himself reminding you of all the reasons you keep him around.

It should’ve been such a simple interaction, really. 

You’d left your wallet on the train when you were on your way home. Someone had found it and had been kind enough to meet up with you in a coffee shop and return it. Kenma had even agreed to go with you, even though there wasn’t much he could’ve done in the way of protecting you. He had seen the entire interaction happen. There was nothing suspicious. You hadn’t even touched the man who came to return your wallet, hadn’t seemed to flirt or even bat your eyes in his direction. 

But he was tall. Extremely tall. Not that it normally mattered. But he also might’ve been handsome to some people, Kenma guessed, and his voice kind of sounded like warm butter when he spoke. And he was so kind, and your smile was so pretty when you looked up at him. But your smile was always pretty, especially when you were looking at Kenma. And it didn’t matter. 

But it did. 

Kenma wasn’t even really aware of what he was doing. But he spent the rest of the day doing whatever you wanted, his entire focus on you. He took you for lunch, then ice cream. He took you to your favorite little used bookstore, and he even stopped for a coffee on the way home.

And now, as the sun was setting outside your shared apartment, he was kneeling on the floor in front of your couch with his lips attached between your thighs. Kenma suckled sweetly on your clit, fingers kneading the squishy plush of your hips. His tongue dipped inside to taste your wetness before his lips returned to your clit. You’re his, you’re his, you’re so his. 

He wasn’t really sure if he was convincing you or himself.

Kenma fully moaned against your pussy as he tasted you, completely enraptured by the sight of your back arching in response to the pleasure he was giving you.. His tongue always made you dizzy. Your hands carded through his hair, continuously brushing it out of his face for him as he devoured you.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. The desire practically rolled off of you in waves. The buildup was completely delicious, making time seem to slow down around you. 

“So good… So perfect…” you told Kenma, looking down at him between your thighs. Your voice was husky, dripping with your need, and the words poured out of your mouth before your brain could even think to stop them. Not that you would’ve stopped him anyway. Kenma was perfect, and you were going to let him know that. 

Kenma whimpered under your praise, his tongue flickering over your clit in that way he knows you love so much. Your back arched again–fuck, you were pretty when you did that. 

“Baby… please, don’t stop…” you begged, your voice little more than a breathy moan as you got closer to that high you needed so badly. 

But he pulled his lips away. Your head fell back against the sofa cushions, and you let out an extended whine. “Not yet,” Kenma said, his breathing heavy and his voice raspy. You watched him let his pants and boxers fall to the floor, his dick hard and aching like you’d never seen before. 

You whimpered again at the sight. “Kenma,” you whined, “I was so close.”

“I said, not yet,” Kenma said again. His cock slid through your folds, coating himself in your liquid arousal. “This pussy is mine. And I’ll do what I want with it.”

Kotaro Bokuto

When Bokuto gets jealous, he just gets unbelievably sad. 

He’s not usually a possessive guy.

But he just loves having all of your attention. 

So sometimes, when you’ve had your attention on another guy, he just needs to be reminded that you love him, too.

Was he fucking pouting? 

You’d been out with your boyfriend all day, seemingly having a good time. And then you struck up an extended conversation with the barista at your local coffee shop, someone you’d become very friendly with because of your frequent visits. He’s a little too cute for Bokuto’s comfort. 

Really, he wasn’t trying to be short with you. It was just a few comments that came out harsher than he intended. Some indifference here, some feigned boredom there. It was a recipe for disaster, you thought. And you couldn’t figure out why. You’d been having a perfectly normal day together. Actually, it was one of the better days, because there was no practice, no travel. Just the two of you, going out grocery shopping.

It wasn’t until after you got home that you realized what exactly was going on. When you were watching TV, Bokuto laid his head in your lap, his arms clinging to your waist, his face buried into your stomach. You laced your fingers into his hair and called him cute, and you saw the tiny, proud smile that he tried to hide by nestling further into your belly.

That was how you ended up here. 

You straddled Kotaro’s lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. He was sitting on the bed, his back propped up against the headboard. “Fuck, you feel so good,” you said, starting to move your hips in your need to relieve the pressure low in your belly. “You fit me so perfectly.”

Bokuto’s hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh on your hips. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you rode him, your pace slow and deliberate, as if making some sort of point. But fuck you were so gorgeous, your tits bouncing ever so slightly as you rode. Your hands perched on his shoulders to keep your balance. Your eyebrows pinched together. Your lip was caught between your teeth. Tiny little whimpers were escaping your lungs. Everything about you was so beautiful and gorgeous, and you were undeniably his and–

Oh, he thought. 

But the thought didn’t stop him, didn’t make him falter for even a second. His hips started rising to meet yours with every thrust, forcing you to ride him faster. “That’s it,” Kotaro said through his teeth, one of his strong hands sliding up your side and gripping your breast. “That’s it. Keep goin’, yeah? Keep fuckin’ yourself on my cock.”

Bokuto’s lewd ramblings made you dizzy as his dick hit just the right spot inside you and kept hitting it. You let out absolutely the most sinful moan as you got closer to the high you wanted, the one you needed him to give you. “Fuck, don’t stop… Need more,” you moaned, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I’m not stopping. You close?,” Bokuto says, still flexing his hips to fuck up into you, forcing his own pace over the two of you. You nod in answer. “Yeah, that’s it. Come for me. That’s my girl.”

Keiji Akaashi

Akaashi is an overthinker. 

So while he isn’t necessarily jealous or possessive, he definitely does overthink things a lot.

And he isn’t afraid to call you out when he thinks you’re being a little too friendly with someone else.

Not that he thinks you would ever leave him. He’s just going to remind you why.

Thinking back on it, you could see why Akaashi did what he did. 

You’d been out to dinner. Not just any dinner. Your anniversary dinner. He had made a reservation. You’d gotten dressed up. He was ready to wine and dine you all evening, to spoil you all night the way you deserved.

And then he showed up.

Some guy you’d gone on a couple of dates with before Keiji was even in the picture happened to see you from across the room. And the idiot had the audacity to come speak to you like Akaashi wasn’t even there. 

And he wasn’t angry at you. God, no. Akaashi let you handle things your way. You were short in your responses, and when you finally introduced Keiji as your boyfriend and mentioned it was your anniversary, the guy finally left the two of you alone for the night. 

It didn’t stop him from overthinking the entire evening though. 

If things had been the other way around, if one of his exes had shown up on your anniversary date, he would’ve told her she was ruining his date. He would’ve said she needed to learn to read the room. He would’ve kissed you right in front of her for good measure. 

He supposed that wasn’t what would’ve actually happened. And he supposed you probably just didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the restaurant. So he wasn’t really angry with you. God, he was never angry with you, especially once you flashed him that pretty smile…

After dinner, he brought you out to the parking lot, supposedly to drive you home. But he smirked and guided you into the backseat, where he pulled you onto his lap and kissed you like you were the only oxygen in the entire world.

It wasn’t long until you were a tangle of limbs and tongues and teeth. Akaashi had pulled your dress and bra down, your pebbled nipple caught in his mouth. He had pulled his cock out of his pants and shoved it inside you, pushing your panties aside and thrusting into you in one fell swoop. 

God, you were pretty like this. You were pretty always, Keiji couldn’t deny that. But your face was heated from the pleasure. Your dress was hiked up around your waist. One of your tits was hanging out of your dress. And fuck you felt so good wrapped around him, your hands perched on his shoulders as you awkwardly rode him in the back seat of his car. 

“Keiji…” you whined, the tone of your voice betraying just how good it felt to have him inside you. “I’m… so… close…”

Akaashi only hummed his approval against your nipple. He wouldn’t dare stop now. Not when you were right on the cusp of coming on him in the middle of this parking garage. Fuck, you were so hot. He kept rolling his hips to meet yours as you rode him, his tongue delicately swirling around your nipple. 

What you didn’t see was Akaashi locking eyes with the man who interrupted your date earlier. Your eyes were screwed shut and your head was thrown back in as you reached your peak. So your ex knew it was you, but you never got a chance to see him. 

As the guy walked away, Akaashi let go of your nipple and replaced his mouth with his hand, his thumb circling your peak. “That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s my girl.”

Abigail

Walks around in jeans and a bra when she wants your attention

Absolutely shameless

Secretly likes being ogled by her partner

“Do you have to go?” Abigail asks as you pull away from her arms and out of bed. She knows you have farm work to do, but damn, does it have to take you away from her so early every morning?

“Yes, I have to go,” you respond, your tone slightly teasing as you start to pull on clean clothes. You give your wife a smile as she tries to pull you back down into bed with just her eyes.

But she lets you get ready. You get dressed. You brush your teeth. You have breakfast. And you’re pretty sure Abigail is getting ready, too, although you’re not quite sure what your wife has planned for the day. 

As you’re draining the last of your morning coffee, she appears in the bedroom doorway. Yoba, she’s stunning. Her hair is down, tides of purple cascading down her shoulders. Jeans slung low on her hips. A simple black bra. You can’t help the way your eyes rake down Abigail’s body, stirring an undeniable need below the belt.

Of course Abigail can feel you ogling her. That’s the entire point.

Abigail walks up behind you, shirt in hand, but she makes no move whatsoever to put it on. Her hands rest on your shoulders and squeeze lightly. She kisses the top of your head. You can feel the bare skin on her chest, her neck behind you. This is pure sabotage, you think playfully, but there are no complaints from you when her hands slide down your shoulders to your chest

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” she asks with a teasing smile on her face, her lips right up against your ear. 

Without another word, you’re agreeing to take Abigail back to bed. Because who needs farm chores when you could have her?

Sebastian

Soft neck kisses from behind

Loves to trail kisses anywhere he can reach

Fingers digging into your hips when he wants you

Today felt like the longest day of Sebastian’s life.

Demetrius, Maru, and Robin had come over to the farmhouse for dinner. And for some reason, with his family around, Sebastian doesn’t feel like he can really be your husband. Not the way he normally is, all sweet and doting. He misses you. Even as you’re right here with him, washing dishes as he puts them away.

Now, with his family gone, Sebastian can finally get his hands on you again. 

Gently, Sebastian’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, his fingers linking together on your belly to hold you there. He buries himself in your neck and sighs deeply as if this exact spot is home to him. “Missed you,” he mutters against your neck.

You can’t help but smile. You’ve been right here with him all evening. But you know what he means. Sebastian is usually so… clingy. But with his family around, he doesn’t feel like he can really be himself. “I missed you too, love,” you respond sweetly, rinsing the plate you’re currently washing 

You feel him hum contentedly into your neck, breathing you in. He mutters something about taking a break that you don’t quite hear because it’s muffled by your shoulder. But then you feel Sebastian’s lips ghosting over your shoulder, then your collarbone, then your neck. “Want you,” Sebastian mutters, his hips pressing into you from behind. 

Within seconds, the sink is turned off, and your hands are dry. You were always his anyway. 

Penny

Light touches all over your body

Fingers tracing gentle little lines to show that she wants you

Sometimes throws a leg over yours when she’s too shy to ask for what she needs

It was actually a pretty decent day.

It had been rainy. The cranberries had come in, and you were able to get them all harvested and shipped off. The animals were doing really well. And you had the opportunity to climb into bed early with your wife. 

The TV was on at the foot of the bed as you held Penny, her head on your chest. Her hair was down right now, auburn locks ghosting over your hand as you mindlessly ran your fingers through it. The rain patters on the window to your left, and somehow, everything just feels overwhelmingly… right. You turn your head to press a lingering kiss to Penny’s forehead before settling back down to watch the movie. 

Then you feel it. Her tiny hands and perfect fingernails ghosting over your skin. She starts at your shoulder, then her fingers skim your chest, all the way down to your belly.

You almost don’t notice at first. It was a soothing touch, something she did pretty frequently. Sometimes it seemed mindless, like something Penny did to soothe herself or you after a long day. But goosebumps raise in the wake of her fingers, sending a slight chill down your spine that’s met with a blush from Penny, which you don’t notice.

Penny moves to drape a leg over yours, tucking herself even closer to you. Her eyes flicker to yours, just for a brief second, as if gauging your reaction. She gets a little bolder now, moving to kiss your cheek, to nip at your jaw.

That’s when you realize. 

So that’s what this is…

Sam

Light smacks on the ass anytime he walks past

Absolutely is not subtle about it

Your husband has been… completely insufferable today.

You guess insufferable isn’t exactly the right word. He’s just clingy. Like he couldn’t stop touching you. Like no matter where you go on the farm, he’s right behind you, offering to help. And it’s getting on your damn nerves. 

And it shouldn’t be. You know it shouldn’t be. You know you should be grateful to have a husband who wants to be close to you, to help you out when he can. But Yoba Sam was getting annoying. Because every single time he passes you, Sam has the audacity to grab your ass or swat it. It’s like he’s obsessed today. Which you suppose isn’t really different from any other day. 

As you’re standing at the kitchen counter, cleaning up from dinner, you feel him again. Sam presses up behind you, his hands cupping your ass and squeezing slightly. “There you are,” he whispers from behind you. 

You sigh, even though it’s hard to be annoyed at Sam when he’s so freaking cute. “Here I am,” you respond in kind, finishing with the dishes and turning to face him. 

Sam is looking down at you with the hungriest look you think you’ve ever seen on him. His hands reach for your ass again, his fingers digging in this time, and the touch makes your breath hitch. 

“Y’know,” Sam says playfully, his lips just inches from yours, “I’ve been dying to just have you on the kitchen counter like this.”

“Yeah?” you ask teasingly.

Sam smiles back at you. “Yeah.”

“Then have me.”

“Damn, you really got lucky with her.” 

Seven words. That was it. Seven words stuck in Shoto’s head on his way home to you. He and his colleague had been in the car on the way to the airport. He’d been sent away on a mission. He was the muscle, and the other guy was supposed to be the brains, although that concept seemed laughable to him now. He’d been looking at his phone, apparently stalking Shoto’s social media. He turned his phone to reveal a photo of you and Todoroki at an event you’d gone to together last year. Shoto really couldn’t blame this other hero, of course. In that picture, you were wearing a dark gray cocktail dress that hugged your body just right, sexy but still classy. You looked stunning in the photo, although Shoto was fairly sure you looked stunning waking up from a four hour nap. 

“Damn, you really got lucky with her,” this man had the audacity to say to Shoto after they had just completed their mission. “What I wouldn’t give to have something like that on my arm.”

Did he just call you a that? What could he have possibly meant? Shoto continued not to say anything, as if staying silent would somehow make the other guy disappear. He did have to ride all the way back to the agency with this guy, after all. Shoto wished his uniform was equipped with earbuds. He cursed himself for not getting them out of his bag before he got in the car. So instead, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through your pictures. All he could think about was you.

You belonged to him, Shoto reassured himself. That picture, in the silver dress, the one with the slit that went almost to your hip, the one that made you irresistible to him and everyone else at that party. That picture was the version of you that everyone else got. Shoto got to see you in your pajamas with your hair sticking up when you woke up. He got to see you wrapped in a towel when you were fresh out of the shower. He got to watch you get dressed every morning. You were his. 

And by the time he got home the next morning, he was physically aching to see you, to touch you, to make sure you were actually his. A month apart. Actually, it was thirty four days, but who was counting. 

He was. 

It was early. You were making yourself breakfast. But when you heard the door knob shift with the keys in the lock, you dropped everything. You didn’t even bother to close the box of cereal. You just ran to your boyfriend in the other room. “Shoto!” you cheered, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He relished your body pressed up against his, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the fresh scent of your conditioner, your hair still damp from your morning shower. 

It was you. You were there. He could breathe again. 

“I missed you,” he muttered against your neck, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He pulled away from the hug, and you reached up to hold his face, your thumb caressing the lower line of his scar.

“I missed you, too,” you agreed before standing leaning in to press a sweet, prolonged kiss on Shoto’s lips. His kiss, in return, was languid. He must be tired, you thought. 

Shoto was tired. He hadn’t slept very much on the plane. That idiot he was on the mission with kept droning on about different women. But truthfully, Shoto’s kiss was so languid because he was holding himself back, trying desperately not to pick you up and take you against the door to your apartment. 

You felt Shoto’s warm hands splay out on your back, pressing you into his body even further. You sighed into the kiss as his hands wandered lower and over your ass. With one hand, he reached behind himself and locked the door. Now you were, truthfully, alone together.

With one smooth movement, Shoto flipped your positions, and he pressed your back against the door to the apartment. His hands tugged at your hips to drag you closer to him. Then, when you were pressed up against him so closely, you realized how badly he needed you. His hardness pressed into your lower belly, and you felt something of your own shift below the waist. Your breathing now labored, you ground your hips into his. His strong hands grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. Shoto’s heterochromatic eyes stared into yours, something darkening behind them as he asked, “Who do you belong to?”

You felt something darken in your own expression. Taken aback by how sudden it all was, you took a few seconds to come up with the answer you knew would be adequate. Those few seconds were too long for Shoto. One hand pinning your wrists to the wall, the other came to firmly wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze; he only rested his hand there to assert his power. “I said, who do you belong to?” he asked again, his voice lower, almost a growl.

He waited again to allow for a response. After a deep breath meant to steel yourself, you finally answered, “I’m yours, Shoto. I belong to you.”

“That’s better,” Shoto growled. He let go of your hands and your throat, and he connected his lips to your jawline. His strong hands wander to the hem of your shirt, traveling underneath to rest on your bare waist. His kisses wandered lower, too, down your neck and collarbone. They slowly became hungrier, more fervent, as you began to give yourself up to Shoto and his desire. You felt his teeth scrape against your skin, and his hands squeezed your hips and kneaded the fat beneath your shirt. “Take it off,” he demanded, stepping away and starting to strip himself. You didn’t know which part he meant, so you assumed he meant everything. Your shirt, your sweatpants, your panties, everything gets pushed to the ground.

That’s when you got a glimpse of Shoto, muscled all over, bruised from his most recent battle, and hard as a rock. Your hunger settled in the pit of your stomach, your arousal beginning to leak from your pussy. Shoto looked at you, too. You were perfect. Too far, he thought. He was much too far away from you. He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you, much harder and more desperate than before. Lips and tongue and teeth gnashing at yours, breath heavy as he inhaled your scent as if it were oxygen itself. His senses couldn’t be filled fast enough. His mouth trailed down your body, starting at your ear and traveling to the base of your neck, almost to your shoulder. You felt Shoto’s teeth against your collarbone, your flesh sucked between his teeth. Shoto’s hands slid further down your body, coming to rest on your ass cheeks. His palms kneaded the fat that was suspended there, his grip so ardent you were sure you’d have his handprint there for the rest of your life.

You sighed hard and closed your eyes as you took in the sensation of him. When Shoto finally pulled away from his attack on your collarbone, he admired the mark that was left there, already starting to bruise. He looked you straight in the eyes again, and he growled, “Mine.” You felt your cheeks heat. Shoto’s lips left a trail of kisses down your body, starting just below your neck. “Mine.” A kiss between your breasts. “Mine.” A kiss on your stomach. “Mine.” A kiss below your belly button. He continued until the air could no longer find your lungs, so close to giving you the relief that you so desperately craved. 

Time slowed down as Shoto hooked one of your legs over his shoulders. “Say it,” he commanded, staring deeply into your eyes, looking right into your deepest wants and needs. 

You swallowed hard and reminded yourself to breathe. “I’m yours,” you uttered breathlessly. 

Shoto gripped your outer thigh with one hand and your ass cheek with the other. “Again,” he commanded, placing a kiss on your inner thigh and tracing gentle shapes on the other leg. 

“‘M yours, Shoto,” you gasped. “I’m all yours. Please touch me.”

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a grin before wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue lapped slowly at your most sensitive places. You rested your head back against the door, letting out a loud sigh. Shoto dragged his tongue between all your creases before lapping at your clit and looking up at your beautiful face. His hands returned to their places, kneading the fat on your ass and your thighs. God, you were beautiful, he thought staring up at you. He thought about that guy in the car, on the plane, at the agency. He got to see you in that fucking dress, the silver one that practically made everyone’s eyes bug out of their heads. But he didn’t get to see you like this, legs spread wide, head thrown back, mouth hanging open with little whimpers of pleasure tumbling from your lips. Like this, you were all his. You were only for him.

Your hips started to quiver, and you could feel your knees get weaker as you got closer to the high that you had been craving for weeks, the kind that only Shoto could give you. You had touched yourself to the thought of him while he was gone, but there was nothing like this, the feeling of Shoto between your legs, lapping at all your most sensitive places. 

And then all of a sudden, he stopped. He stood up, making you whine at the loss of touch. “Sho, please,” you begged. 

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” he reassured you. Shoto grabbed you underneath your ass cheeks and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing you against the door for additional support. He stroked himself, and he placed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “You want this, baby?” he asked as he teased between your lips with his dick. 

You felt yourself clench underneath his touch, your pussy aching to be filled by him. “Yes, please,” you whimpered desperately.

Shoto looked you straight in your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours, and he pushed past your entrance. You gasped as he entered you, inch by inch. He was as desperate as you were, longing to just shove himself into you. But this wasn’t about him. 

With every centimeter of his cock that entered you, you whimpered and gasped for Shoto. And when he was finally buried inside you to the hilt, he rested there for a moment, relishing the sound of your sweet whines for more pleasure. “Please fuck me, Sho,” you pleaded. “I’m all yours. All for you. Please fuck me.”

Shoto smirked as he started to move, his thrusts slow at first. He didn’t have much balance where his feet were planted on the floor, but he couldn’t stop looking at you as he thrusted, your eyes rolled back, your mouth pursed shut in an attempt to hold in your moans. Shoto kneaded your ass again, and he said, “Don’t hold back, baby. Whoever’s out there, I want them to hear that you’re fucking mine.”

In response, you let out another extended whine, much louder than before. Shoto practically purred, “Good, baby,” and started to thrust into you much faster. 

After being edged before, it wasn’t difficult to bring you to the edge of your next orgasm. It had been so long since you’d felt Shoto’s body pressed against yours, since you’d felt him in side you like this. “Sho, ‘m gonna–”

“I know,” he interrupted, wrapping a firm hand around your throat. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours,” you managed to say between moans. “I’m yours, Sho. Just yours. Nobody else’s”

And just like that, you were coming around him, your orgasm pulsing through you like massive waves in an ocean. Your moans might have concerned any passersby on the other side of the door, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even think about that as Shoto pressed into you three more times before unleashing a flood of his release into you. Groans and growls and heavy breathing left you both wordless, eyes closed as he held you close. 

Shoto carried you to the couch and sat down with you on his lap. He was still buried deep inside you, but he pulled you close to him anyway, your chest pressed against his. Your breathing was heavy as you laid against him, his lips pressing against yours softly and sweetly before you laid your head down on his shoulder. 

Your eyes closed. You weren’t sure how long you laid against him before his fingers began to ghost over your back. “All mine,” he whispered again, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I am so lucky.”

His warmth and cold enveloped you, and your relaxation melted into each other. “I love you, Sho,” you muttered tiredly, pressing a long, sweet kiss to his jawline. “You’re all mine, too.”

Shoto felt his cheeks heat at the thought. 

You were his, and he was yours.

And that was all he needed. 

Jean Kierschtein

Most likely sleeps shirtless with pajama pants on.

He always claims that he isn’t cuddly, especially when talking about you with his friends.

Jean won’t outright ask to cuddle.

Doesn’t wanna come across as soft or needy.

He’s secretly ecstatic though when you get sleepy and eventually cuddle up to him.

Literally the second he falls asleep, he’s clinging to you like a koala.

Eventually he turns over on his stomach, sleeping with his arms tucked up under his pillow.

Jean is somewhat of a light sleeper, but not painfully so.

Like, he wouldn’t wake for a pin drop.

But if you got out of bed, he would definitely know. 

He snores quietly. 

His snores are a little louder when he’s sick or if he’s extra tired.

And he sleeps hot.

He’s an absolute space heater.

Every time he wakes up, his hand immediately searches for you under the blankets.

Connie Springer

Connie sleeps in a thin t-shirt and shorts of some kind.

He’s an absolutely shameless cuddlebug.

Cannot sleep without cuddling you first. 

His favorite is when you fall asleep on top of him, straddling his lap.

He sleeps like a baby when that happens.

Connie isn’t particularly a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper.

But he sleeps for long periods of time.

What can I say? He likes his beauty sleep.

Pretty sure he sleeps on his side.

And oh my god he snores.

You should probably buy earplugs, unless you’re a heavy sleeper.

He is not a morning person.

Never has been.

In fact, Connie’s first instinct when he wakes up is to be grumpy.

But as soon as he hears your voice, he perks up almost immediately.

Sasha Braus

Sasha most likely sleeps in a tank top or a t-shirt and panties.

She’s not particularly cuddly at night. 

She really prefers to have her own space when she’s sleeping.

In fact, she’ll probably hold you right up until it’s time to go to sleep.

Then she wiggles to her own side of the bed.

Sasha sleeps on her stomach. 

No snoring, but she does talk in her sleep on occasion.

There’s been at least once where you’ve had some silly conversation with her in her sleep.

She’s a really heavy sleeper. 

At least, when it comes to sounds, she is.

Like, you could have an entire conversation out loud and not wake her.

But, of course, the minute she smells you cooking breakfast in the morning, she wakes up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

It’s hard for Seika to believe that she had survived this long staying in her father’s house.

At 20 years old, she can still remember the words her mother said the last time they saw each other when Seika was just 13. “Be stronger than I am,” her mother had said, sitting on the couch in front of Seika. She was so confused when her father sent her up to her room for the night with no dinner. They always had dinner together. 

But the next morning, when Seika came out of her bedroom, her mother was nowhere to be found. Seika and her father were alone in his massive house, refusing to speak to each other, as always. 

As an adult, Seika knows what happened. She had heard the yelling, the breaking of furniture, the harsh sound of the back of his hand on her cheek. She could always hear it from upstairs in her room. She had watched her mother try to leave over and over again, although her mother didn’t think Seika knew. Seika’s father had fuck-you-money. He could make anyone disappear, if he wanted to. And after that day, when Seika’s mother sat down and instructed her to get stronger, her father never spoke of her mother again.

But that isn’t where they are now. 

Now, Seika’s father’s company has at least doubled its worth. He had another baby, which he gladly abandoned, with a large check sent to the child’s mother every month for her discretion. Akui Matsubara is rich and fat and happy.

Or at least he was. 

Now, he lay dead in a casket in front of Seika. She’s surrounded by his family, his friends, his business partners, a frown forced on her face for their sake. The doctors told her it was a heart attack. She doesn’t care what happened. He’s finally gone. 

At the reading of his estate, it’s no surprise that Seika has inherited everything. Even though they hated each other privately, Seika was Akui’s loving daughter in public. She went to charity balls and movie premiers and fashion shows on the company’s behalf. She made the company a lot of money.

Which is why she immediately turned around and sold the company to the highest bidder. 

Seika might’ve been the richest woman in all of Japan. Truthfully, she didn’t care. Because her next move was to open a women and children’s shelter in one of the city’s largest apartment buildings. She renovated it with the money she earned from selling the company.

And this is how she keeps it running.

Now, she’s in the large mansion of a very nice man in his fifties. His name is Yamamoto. He’s much too rich to live in this city, considering he could go anywhere he wants. And he’s also way too old to be accepting the company of a twenty year old like this. But he does. In fact, he’s paying for it, though he probably doesn’t know that he’s paying for it yet. 

After twenty minutes of half-assed foreplay on Yamamoto’s part, her dress is in a pile on the floor. His pants are around his ankles. She’s sitting on his lap, cock stuffed inside her, riding him like it’s her job, because it is. She’s forcing porn-star quality moans. Her eyes are locked onto his, making Yamamoto’s horny little brain believe that this is his one true desire in life. 

And then, her quirk kicks in.

“After we’re done here,” Seika says between moans, her tits bouncing in his face as she continues to ride him, “you’ll wire the money.”

And Yamamoto doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll follow her orders. He always does. Her quirk is unavoidable, though he doesn’t know it. To him, he’s just paying for sex, something he’s done dozens of times with other women. The entire experience is over much too quickly for Seika’s liking, and before she knows it, she’s curled up next to the creepy, disgusting Yamamoto, kissing his arms as if she’s in love with him. 

That is what he pays for, after all. 

Emily

It was a Saturday night. Emily was working the late shift at the saloon. She was supposed to be late. She was always late coming home on a Saturday night, with the saloon bustling with everybody in the town. 

You thought she was going to be much later.

As you settled onto the couch to watch some TV, you decided to treat yourself to some alone time. Your hand slipped beneath your pants, hoping to make quick work of your relaxation. But just as you were in the thick of it, the door to your farmhouse opened. In milliseconds, you pulled your hand out of your pants and covered yourself with the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch.

“Hey, honey,” she said as she slipped off her shoes. You could feel your face heat by about a million degrees, and you pursed your lips to try and suppress it. 

“Hey,” you said back, trying to push back the awkwardness. Emily went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She definitely saw, but she could tell you were embarrassed. So she didn’t say anything about it. She just came to sit on the edge of the couch where you were while her tea was steeping. 

She leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, lingering for a little longer than necessary. “I missed you, too,” she teases quietly. 

And just like that, the awkwardness is gone.

Shane

Gridball was on TV. 

Of course it was, because that was the only reason you ever went to bed alone since you and Shane got married. You always tried to stay up with him, but gridball wasn’t exactly your thing, and you pretty much always ended up going to bed just after half-time.

This was one of those nights, though, when you went to bed and just couldn’t fall asleep. You had felt so sleepy, sitting on the couch with Shane; you could barely keep your eyes open. But as you laid in bed and tried to get comfortable, you realized you weren’t as sleepy as you thought. 

In the hopes of calming your body and your brain, you sat up against the headboard and slipped your hands inside your pants and went to work, trying to relieve some of the pent up tension in your body.

But you waited too late.

You didn’t hear the TV turn off. You didn’t hear Shane’s footsteps coming toward the bedroom door. You only registered his presence when the door opened. You quickly withdrew your hand and tried to pretend like you weren’t doing exactly what you were doing. 

Shane tried to pretend like he didn’t see, but he blinked a few times in response to the sight. “I didn’t realize you were still up,” Shane said, nervously rubbing the back of his head. 

You played along. You swallowed and awkwardly avoided looking at Shane as he undressed for bed. “Yeah,” you said, trying to play off the situation. “I just… wasn’t as tired as I thought, I guess.”

Shane climbed into bed on his side. Pulling you into his arms, he pressed a kiss to your jaw, and he teased, “I could make you tired.”

Haley

It was the night of the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. You’d spent all day working on the farm before you went with Haley and Emily out to the festival. You had lots of fun with the two of them, but you were exhausted.

Seeing the weight behind your eyes Haley put a hand on your chest. “Baby, why don’t you go ahead and go home?” she offers gently. 

You sighed, and your shoulders slumped. “Are you sure?” you asked. You didn’t want to leave Haley for the festival, but the thought of a hot shower and a warm bed was all too tempting. 

Haley smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure,” she answered. “You go ahead and rest. I’m gonna hang out for a bit. I’ll be home a little later.”

With a quick kiss, you left Haley to hang out with her sister. As you arrived home and into your bathroom, you stripped and stepped under the hot water, letting it soothe every ache in your body. 

Mindlessly, you leaned against the shower wall, your hand finding their way to your sex between your legs. You stroked yourself, lazily and brainlessly. And suddenly, Haley bursts through the bathroom door. “Shit!” you exclaimed, startled, immediately moving your hand and straightening up in the shower. 

Haley didn’t comment on it. “I’m home,” she announced plainly, finding her skincare products on their shelves in the bathroom and starting to tend to her skin. She was tired too, and she washed and moisturized her face with hardly a word. 

As she left, though, she looked over her shoulder, and with a playful wink, she teased, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

Harvey

Last night was a late night for you.

The first day of the new season, you were racing to get everything in the ground as the sun set and the stars winked in the night sky. That was why you found yourself in bed alone this morning with a coffee sitting cold on the nightstand. 

Harvey had rolled out of bed to go to the clinic this morning, leaving you with a kiss on the head and a coffee for when you woke up. God, he is the sweetest, you thought to yourself. 

You checked the time. It was a little after nine o’clock, which was much too late for you. You brought the mug of coffee to the microwave to heat it up, and you sat at the kitchen table for far too long, just sipping and enjoying the quiet of the house. 

You checked on the animals and let them out for the day. The sprinklers were all doing their jobs. And you retreated to the house to nurse your headache from such a late night. 

You decided to sink into a hot bath. 

As you laid in the hot water, your hand traveled beneath the bubbles to touch your most intimate place. Your eyes fell closed, your lip caught between your teeth, soft sighs escaping your lips. 

“Love?” you heard as the door cracked open, snapping you out of your trance. He immediately shut the door again. “Nope,” he said to himself. “Nope, this is why we knock.” You could hear the breath that he took to try and calm his nerves. 

“Lovey, it’s okay,” you said through the door with a small laugh. “You can come in.”

Harvey sighed in relief, and the door opened again. He appeared in the doorway, his cheeks still tinged slightly pink. “I-I just… came home to check on you,” he said nervously.

Your heart almost melted in response to his sweet reaction. You sighed as you looked up at him. “I love you,” you couldn’t help but say. 

Harvey’s face looked a little stunned when you said it, but he said it back anyway. “I love you too.”