#4 Strings

[ruinix]

your writing is genuinely amazing…like we are not worthy….

i humbly ask for a continuation of the bj blurb you did with Quinn where him and reader are 69ing 🧎‍♀️

Hello, anon. Lovely. Yes, of course, but it is I who is not worthy of you for reading my fic. I fear this moved up the queue because…just because. Anyway, for context, Part 1 is [ Payback ] aka BJ blurb. But if you squint…it can be a standalone (maybe? i think it is or I might be delusional). Please enjoy...

Fifteen

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Handjob with spitting, Hair tugging, Overstimulation (both), Cum tasting, Oral sex (m receiving / Blowjob, then both / 69) 🙂‍↕️, slightest bit of Choking, a sprinkle of Dominance, Quinn literally losing it over you 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

Count: 2816 words | Masterlist

You’re just staring. Quinn thinks it’s—his proposition—an easy sell, but you look so annoyed, glaring at him from between his thighs. You’re looking at him like he just wronged you. He’s confused.

“You don’t want me to have more?” You huff, crossing your arms, eyebrows meeting, glaring up at him with so much anger.

“My Love, I’m not saying that.” Quinn sighs, flinching when you don’t ease up on raining down hell on him.

"Quinn!" You stand up, mounting his lap, hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You pout, peering at him with such wide pleading eyes—gone is the glare. You repeat, “You don’t want to give me more?”

“What are you saying?” Quinn groans. The pain is sending heat to his sensitive cock. His mind is hazy. He’s not sure why you’re pouting when he just told you he wants another position. “I didn’t say that.”

Because…why would he get in the way of what you want? When did he ever do that to you?

You want pancakes for morning? Sure, he’ll make you some while he makes his own plate of smoked salmon, eggs, and potatoes. You want coffee? He’ll brew you a cup. You want beer? Even if he doesn’t drink anymore, he always keep the cans of your favorite brand in the fridge. You want a cocktail or mocktail? He has recipes in his phone.

You always get what you want. He’ll make sure you have everything you want. Everything you need. He’ll give it with no hesitation. So why the fuck would you think he’ll not let you have your fill of him?

“Well, you basically said it.” You sniffle for effect which works immediately.

Quinn is sitting straighter, mind clearing up yet he’s still confused. What did he say again?

“I want to eat you out, then I’ll fuck you,” were his stumbling words. Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You fucked him too much with your mouth that he didn’t say all of what he wanted to say. No wonder you’re pissed and sad.

“Sorry, my Love.” Quinn brushes a hand over your glistening lower lip that was just around his cock. “I meant to say and to rephrase, I want to eat you out while I fuck your mouth.”

You whimper almost immediately. Your grip on him finally eases. He, kind of, likes the pain, but the release only send more heat to his cock. You nod, grinding your clothes pussy over his aching member, hands rubbing over his shoulders to further your point that you’re pleased. Quinn is too. This is the reaction he was thinking about. Not the glare. Just you, being so needy as him, while his own hands grip and trace circles on your thighs.

“You should turn off the TVs. You’re wasting energy,” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with kisses that you’ll make him work for.

You’re just there, but you’re not letting him kiss you. Quinn keeps trying to kiss, failing and failing because you decide to kiss the corners of his lips. You’re driving him insane.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, willing himself not to come again as you grind over his cock, he turns off TVs, groaning when your hand wraps around his cock. Just tell him if you want him dead. You’re killing him with every stroke. If he hasn’t yet seen stars from the earlier tryst, he is now.

“My Love,” he gasps—shamefully sounding like a whine. “I will come if you don’t stop.”

“It’s okay. I won’t waste it.” You nip at his ear. He can feel your tongue tracing along the shell of his fucking ear. “Just one more. Then we can go to the bedroom?”

“F-fuck,” he breathes, hips shallowly meeting your rhythm. “You’re copying me, aren’t you?”

He feels your grin against his ear. You finally let go of his ear to meet his gaze, mischievous glim in your eyes. Of course, you are. Of fucking course. No way this is unprovoked. This is you enacting revenge on him for how much he teased you before. Isn’t it? Fuck.

He’s so fucked.

Still, he doesn’t mind it, but you’re really killing him. Especially now, because you fucking spit on his dick. The way you immediately slick it down his cock, mixing it with his arousal—he is fucking dribbling pre-cum or maybe it’s already fucking cum. He’s not sure.

“You don’t like it?” You taunt, brushing ghost-like kisses on his parted lips.

Cruel. You’re so cruel.

“Please, my Love,” he pleads.

You’re making him feel so weak.

“I promise. Just one more.” You press a soothing kiss on his eyebrow like it would help him.

Your words are exactly what he whispers when he fucks you—with his tongue or fingers or thigh or cock. Oh, you’ve plotted this so hard, haven’t you? It’s working so much. Quinn doesn’t understand why it does. He’s so utterly confused why it’s so hard to contain himself when he can fuck your pussy and make you come around him so many times without coming instantly. So why is your hand undoing him so easily? A fucking mystery.

It honestly doesn’t even matter.

Fuck. It feels so good. Like a high without drugs or alcohol or caffeine. It’s just you.

“I need your cum, Quinn.” You finally capture his lip, tongue immediately moving against his.

He groans because. Fuck. His. Life. He can taste himself. His cum. God, he tastes so good on you.

“’m close,” Quinn mumbles.

He bites down on his lips because of how fast you part from him, a trail of saliva just breaking and hitting his chin. Curses string past his lips when you greedily licked over his dribbling slit. He’s fucking gone. He can’t stop coming into your mouth. Can’t stop his hands from grabbing your head, down his fucking length so he can spill down your throat. You said you won’t waste it. He trusts you. He does. But fuck, he needs to make sure. Needs it to reach nowhere else but inside you.

He whispers your name, pleading for you to stop sucking, but you keep sucking, flattening your tongue up his underside. His vision turns fucking spotty that he wraps his hands around your hair and forces you off his cock. Pop. The fucking pop of you releasing his cock from your suction. You succubus. Nymph. Minx. Oh, God. There’s no saving him.

“Stop, stop.” Quinn pants, sweat beading on his skin. “Give me a fucking minute.”

“You never gave me a minute last week.” You smirk up at him, scratching his thighs with your nails. “Did you?”

“No,” Quinn groans, letting go of your hair, trying to fix it but failing. “Sorry.”

Shrugging, you stand up, grabbing his hands to help him up. Quinn feels like he ran two marathons. His legs are almost jelly as he walks after you. He can’t stop looking at your ass especially when you push your shorts down, revealing nothing else. You got no panties? Fuck. He almost wobbles when his fucking cock just stands. You tut, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

His lips part, failing to produce words. His throat is fucking dry. Blush heats up his cheeks when you hand him a bottle of water, coaxing him to drink while you strip down to nothing. Quinn has never drunk water so fast. His hands tremble around the plastic, squeezing like it’s a squeeze bottle—it’s not. He made a mess which would normally drive him insane. Not today.

Not when you just sat on his lap, hands going up, from your inner thighs to the glistening flesh where it meets your pussy, to your waist, to your breasts. Like you’re presenting them to him. Evil. So fucking evil like a Demoness.

“You wanna fuck these first before—”

“No,” he cuts you off, his sight darkening, his blood simmering. He’s done playing your games. You can play some other time. “Sit on my face, my Love.”

Quinn grabs your throat when you try to speak. You whimper when he pressses down your arteries, controlling the blood flow to your brain, just how you like it. Your whole demeanor shifts from the teasing brat to helpless and needy whore. Just like that Quinn grabs your rein. So easy when you were so fucking playful.

“Sit on my face or I’ll have your head hanging over the edge to fuck your throat while I eat you out,” he threatens.

Your sharp breath and whine, your hand gripping around his wrist when he gives another firm squeeze, and your arousal dripping on thigh are all signs that you want both.

You’re so hungry today. Still can’t get your fill of him when he already gave you two full loads. Greedy.

“Which one first?” he asks, releasing you, making you whine and grab his hand to put around your throat again. He does, but he doesn’t put the pressure you thoroughly need.

“I want to sit on your face,” you grumble, annoyance leaking out of you.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Quinn asks, gripping your hip with his other hand. As much as he likes the mind-blowing orgasms, you’re not normally like this. Like you’re proving a point.

“I just wanna reciprocate…” You sigh, looking away then back again. “Plus, a bit of revenge. You made me lose it last week. I want to do it too. I chose today.”

He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, watches your eyelashes fan as you blink. Your hands rub over his chest like you’re stringing a spell. It’s working. Whatever shadowed his vision clears. All he can see is you. His heart pounds. Quicker. Much quicker than it already did.

You’re staring at him with those pitiful eyes. He can’t help but melt.

“You can do whatever you want,” Quinn groans. “I did go hard on you last week, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you huff, biting your lip. “I loved it.”

Of course, you did. Quinn enjoyed it too. He always enjoys his time with you. Whatever you two do. Movies. Cooking. Cleaning. Kissing. Fucking. Sitting down on the couch without doing anything. He loves doing things with you.

“I enjoyed what you did to me,” Quinn pertains to the earlier moments. He instantly gets rewarded with a wide smile. Your smile that makes your eyes crinkle at the sides, eyes sparkling with so much joy. “You made me lose my shit.”

You laugh, so amused, so proud of yourself. You should be. You have that right. He loves you so much, so he kisses you. Less unhurried. Never less of love.

But when you scoot further down his thigh, pussy grinding over his cock, he’s once again a goner. It’s all fucking blink. Now he’s lying on his back, gripping your hips, pulling you down, tongue slowly lapping over your pulsing clit to your entrance. Fuck, tastes like a perfect pussy. A delectable pussy.

Oh, the way you scream, trying to get away when he’s only starting.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs as your back arches, as you helplessly pant. “I thought you want more?”

Your answering sob drowns out his senses. This is what he needed. Everything feels so right, so fair. He savors your taste, sliding his tongue into your quivering pussy. You’re so wet. You haven’t come yet, have you? He got to fix that. That’s not fucking allowed. He needs to feel you come so hard around his tongue.

You whimper, grinding down, hands on his abdomen for leverage. Your words are nothing but gibberish, yet he understands it. You want more. More. And more. He’ll give you more. You don’t need to beg. Not now. Some other time, maybe. Before he can start plotting, Quinn swipes his finger over your clit and pussy pulsates.

You let out a breathy scream. You grind down while also trying to run from the pleasure. So Quinn hooks one arm over your thigh. You can’t escape him. Not when he’s the one feasting now. You can’t rob him after he came for you. He won’t let you.

You keep muttering his name, keep trying to get off, keep grinding on him. His pretty girl is so conflicted. That’s cute. You’re cute.

Your thighs are quivering. Your weight on him. Quinn loves that so much. He smells your arousal, your cum, your pussy. He smells everything. He would love to die between your thighs. Die with your taste on his tongue. The only thing that’s missing is your lips around his cock. Where the fuck are you?

You mutter his name in a whiny voice, cursing and sighing. You probably fail to remember why you two are in this position. You always do that, but it’s okay. Quinn’s here for that reason. He traces up his hand over your thighs, your hips, and your back. He put pressure on your arch of your spine.

Finally, he feels your breaths on his cock. Your clumsy kisses on his shaft made him thrust up. Damn. He doesn’t think any of you will survive this position. Both of you are losing it. Why are you two only doing this position now? God, your lips, your tongue, your mouth, your throat. All of them feel so good.

Your wanton moans send vibrations through his whole body, so he makes sure to do the same, humming into your pussy, tongue tracing every crevice in you, sucking and gulping your arousal. Your responding sounds bring him more pleasure. Physically around his cock. Emotionally because he’s the cause.

Fucking perfect.

Quinn replaces his tongue with two of his fingers—the ring and the middle—and his thumb traces and teases your clit. He licks up to your other hole. He can’t neglect any of you, can he? No. Never. He’ll die if he does. Too bad he can’t reach the lube in the drawers. Too bad your arousal or his spit isn't enough lubrication. Too fucking bad.

‘Next time’, he thinks.

Quinn gives it a few more kissed before he’s back to your pussy, because you’re whining for him to stop. If you don’t want his touch there, then he won’t. He knows you. You just don’t want it today. That’s perfectly fine. Whatever you want.

He slides his tongue besides his fingers, stretching you. He knows how much you can take. You can take more than this. Oh, you do. And you love it. It’s the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, his fingers. The perfect squeeze like you’re afraid that he'll leave. He will never. He will—

You kiss his fucking tip like you’re making out with him. Your hand rubbing down his fucking length. Harsher, harder, sucking and playing with him as he does with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Quinn mutters as you do.

“Quinn,” you breathe as you kiss along length. “Close.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He can feel the familiar tremors he felt just minutes ago. The tremors he thoroughly memorized every time his cock is seated inside you. To know you is such a gift he’ll never take for granted.

So, he lets you come again, lets your cum drip into his awaiting tongue, lets you ride your orgasm. He lets you even the playing field, because now, both of you are in the same tally.

Two for two.

A good ratio, but not for Quinn. He needs you to come more than him. He needs you to soak him and lose it because it’s too much. He needs you to writhe and beg for rest. He needs your head over the edge while he fucking uses your throat. He needs to hear you gag. He needs to see your tears on flush cheeks. He needs to see your pussy red and raw from just his tongue while you get overwhelmed.

He already lets you have your control, but you’re always on the losing side here. He has more stamina and more drive to use you. Oh, the ways he’ll use you for what you’ve done to this supposed lazy rest day.

You’ve done this.

You should be prepared for more. The way you whine so softly, you’re still clueless about what you’ve done. You thought he’d just let you get away.

Quinn is kind. He’ll let you have your fill of his cum. You want your stomach to be filled with, so he’ll give that to you. It will warm your stomach, but you would realize that your pussy is not. Not a single drop of cum inside.

He knows it will drive you fucking insane.

You will be begging to be filled while also begging to stop. You will be so conflicted.

That’s a perfect scenario.

Because Quinn will not listen.

You can have whatever you want, but he already decided…not tonight.

<- Previous (Part 1: Payback)

[aipurjopa]

updated my havocs…

[xinyuehui]

Don't tell anyone I gifted you anything!

Love Game in Eastern Fantasy · 2024

[susivoi]

👁 ^ ^ 👁 yarnaby

-

Discord • Kofi

[queam]

Deacon Gage and Nick

[pup-pee]

chewy like a easter egg grass

[freakinflipflop]

I imagine Kristoph Gavin was a 2nd violin in a string quartet when he was in college. He's absolutely the kind of guy to have played violin, and I would imagine he LOVED like. Haydn. But he's not showy enough to want the first violin position. And he gets SO perfectionist about the whole thing that the quartet ends up falling apart after 6 months.

So when his little brother is the lead musician in a successful band? AND has passed the bar and is about to debut as a lawyer? It makes Kristoph So Fucking Mad. Why does Klavier get to have everything Kristoph has strived to have. Why can Klavier do what Kristoph couldn't.

Kristoph doesn't know that behind the scenes Klavier is just as much of a control freak with his music as Kristoph was- Klavier is just able to keep his relationships based in kindness enough that it doesn't all fall apart.

[nova-rpv]

could you draw hyper knuckles with a ponytail? I love fanart of him with his hair tied back

ill do you one better: string worm hyper knuckles with a ponytail

hope you enjoy this silly echinda, echidna enjoyer

[christiangeistdorfer]

JENSON BUTTON celebrating his win at the 2009 BRAZILIAN GRAND PRIX, making him a WDC with his dad JOHN BUTTON

[btvs3x21]

enough mari slander mari is first string on the varsity team despite not having been in the pre-plane pre-crash scenes which we know bc she's number 10 so like. if they're playing with a full deck she's gotta be first string. there's 11 players composing first string. the logistical reason we don't see her before the plane is because alexa hadn't yet been cast (those scenes were filmed pre-covid) but the in-universe explanation is probably either that she was suspended from that game for having been red carded or she was otherwise benched (yellow carded or coach martinez just wanted to switch things up or something) and one of the second string players had subbed in. as for practice we don't see her yes but it's not like we see every player on the team, and it's not like tai tries to get everybody involved in her plan to freeze allie out. it's extremely weird, given mari is number 10 which makes her the center attacking midfielder (which for those of you who don't know is also called the playmaker and thus extremely integral to the plays the whole team makes as the name implies), but it might be that tai is only trying to gain the support of those she knows will have the influence to do this as team members as well as the ability to control if allie gets the ball because of their position in addition to tai potentially believing that if she tells mari then mari will tell jackie but if she doesn't tell mari, mari will just go along with it once she realizes what the others are doing. idk, in-universe it doesn't make sense in terms of their positions but in terms of tai trying to gain crucial support in terms of social influence over the team, it might. and as for the party well. we don't know she wasn't there we just know she didn't get involved in the fight. maybe she was busy talking shit with other people. but my point is she was first string.

[bookwormsid1015]

I like to imagine Dogday was co-leader alongside Doey after Poppy went missing, and Dogday was his first true friend and confidant aside from Poppy.

For Dogday to survive being bisected must mean that he was captured at most a month before the Player arrived in the factory. Maybe that’s why Doey looked so out of sorts when we found him; he went from having someone else to rely on for leadership to having to be the leader himself.

[felassan]

before the Gameplay Reveal of Dragon Age: The Veilguard went live the other day, the stream had a countdown on a purple background. there was cool music playing in the background of this. there is a rewatch link for the gameplay video, but it doesn't include the song. Ghil Dirthalen recorded it though, so if you would like to re-listen to it, you can do so here at [this link]. there is also a link in the description of the video to a download of the audio file there.

maybe this is the music that plays over the 'Start Menu'? :)

[venice-1987]

Okay, so in season 4 episode 8, Janai starts talking about two of those twin-tailed inferno tooth tigers and the two she is talking about have the color palets of turquios and brown (Embertail), and gold and red (Aegis) (both seen in teaser images for season 7). And Janai says that "Embertail thinks Aegis is cute, but won't admit it yet" so in conclusion, not only will Sorvus be canon in season 7, but Corvus has thought Soren is cute for three seasons, but hasn't admitted it to himself yet.

[losertwink]

all along there was some

invisible string

tying you to me?

[constantvariations]

The origin of the White Fang is absolutely bananas. Blake recalls its original purpose to be a symbol of peace between humans and faunus, a notion so vague it's literally meaningless, but who the fuck names a peace organization White Fang? Why not something like the White Dove or Open Arms, something that actually brings to mind the idea of peace?

And here's another little thing that ShawLuna can't help but trip over: historically, those who prefer revolutionary tactics do not boot out a pacifist leader once their rationale becomes the popular one. They just make their own group, like the Black Panthers or the Hindustan Socialism Republic Association. This happens pretty often and the groups almost always are critical of each other's methods, but they coexist rather than take over

But doing that would mean that they would've had to write multiple groups with complex ideologies towards overcoming an equally complex obstacle, so one group turned sUpEr eViL is all we get

[liillyliilly]

Babysitting (with) Bokuto

bokuto koutarou x reader words; 1234 synopsis; they have to watch a kiddo, she ends up watching bokuto and the kid instead

When Bokuto asked Y/n to help him babysit his neighbor’s kids, she hesitated. Because, dating Bokuto was like babysitting a child in its own manner. But she pushed aside the thought because, well, you shouldn’t be kissing the boy you babysit.

“Babe!” Bokuto ran up to her and hugged her tightly, lifting her up into the air. “Are you ready for today! I’m thrilled! Do you think four year olds can play volleyball?”

“Bo, put me down please.” When Bokuto shook his head, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek as payment to be put down. Which he accepted. But then returned the payment with another kiss, this time on the lips. Causing her to burst into a small fit of giggles. Which made Bokuto bubble with pride.

“Bo, I think four year olds shouldn’t play volleyball, at least not with you.” Y/n hooked her arm with Bokuto’s as he led her to the front door of his neighbor’s house.

The walk was short to the neighbor's house, the concrete path contained all kinds of chalk drawings, including the ones that she and Bokuto had made a few days ago. There was one drawing where Bokuto attempted to draw him lifting her up, but when his dad mentioned it looked like King Kong carrying a woman up the Tokyo Tower, Bokuto begged her to draw over it. So she drew her best recreation of an snowy barn owl over the unfortunate misinterpreted doodle.

“Just letting you know now. The kid is a menace! He is pure evil. And I don’t know why Mrs. Ito wanted me to watch him.” Bokuto huffed and folded his arms.

Y/n thought for a moment, carefully planning out what she would say to her boyfriend. “I bet Mrs. Ito wanted you to watch him because you’re so very responsible. You're the volleyball captain!” She knew this would work. It both complimented him and helped to change Bokuto’s mindset.

There were many times when she had reached out to Akaashi to get tips on what worked best not to control, but just to manage Bokuto occasionally. Akaashi did admit that she had the most power over Bokuto, seeing as well, a kiss from her could resolve any sort of problem or concern Bokuto had.

“Yeah! You're right! I’m the best!” Bokuto exclaims. She knocked on the door.

“Bokuto! Thank heavens, you came right in time! Please, come in.” Mrs. Ito was a younger woman, fairly pretty with long black hair. “And this must be L/n? Bokuto’s mother doesn’t stop talking about you when we go out for tea.”

She flushed, and tried to bow slightly deeper. Just knowing that Bokuto's family liked her was a fact that she wanted to write in her journal over and over again. His mom likes me!

“Thank you, Mrs. Ito. Now are there any allergies I should know about?” She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse, waiting to write any specific details down.

“Nope! But I’m letting you know, Yuuta loves to play with his legos, so it might be a challenge to get him to do anything else.”

“I’m sure she can handle him! She’s amazing.” Bokuto put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss so as to not disturb Mrs. Ito with a longer kiss.

“Well, you have my number, and you can always just look at the list I have in the kitchen for Yuuta’s bedtime and such.” And with that, Mrs. Ito left Bokuto and his girlfriend to deal with her son.

The Ito house was beautiful, it was a modern Japanese style home. Lots of dark oak, with white fur accents on the couches and seating arrangements. Past the walkway was a giant TV, and many awards of sorts on the fireplace mantle.

“Promise me you won’t pay more attention to Yuuta than to me.” Bokuto held out his pinkie.

That was their thing, whenever Bokuto wanted something or needed confirmation he would always ask for a pinkie promise.

“Bo! I can’t promise that. I’m supposed to be watching Yuuta, not disregarding him for you.” For a second, she swore she could see Bokuto’s golden eyes flash with his emo mood, but nope. He kept his composure.

“Bokuto.” There was a small voice from the couch.

She walked further into the house, to be greeted with a small boy. He had the black hair his mother bore, but his eyes were a stunning blue. She didn't notice the child sitting on the couch earlier, when she observed her environment.

“Yuuta.” Bokuto spat. His voice heavy with poison.

It was eerily like a supervillain reveal, the way Yuuta hopped off the couch and meandered over to the teenagers.

“Who‘s this?” Yuuta tugged on her hand. Curling his fingers around hers.

“My girlfriend.”

“Oh really?” Yuuta grinned. But it wasn’t like any grin Y/n had ever seen from a four year old before.

“In that case,” He turned to face Y/n, “Up!” He held his arms up and wiggled his fingers. She easily lifted the boy up, and Yuuta cuddled into the girl.

“This means war.” Bokuto used his pointer and middle fingers to point at his eyes before quickly pointing them at Yuuta’s. He was actually attempting to threaten the child. She was simply too busy cooing over the child to notice the looks exchanged by the two boys.

Throughout the night, Yuuta looked for ways to annoy Bokuto. By taking his girlfriend's attention away from him and onto Yuuta.

Dinner was the first monster, Yuuta refused to eat anything unless she was spoon feeding him. She had run through the train, plane, and car noises before just resigning to feeding him in her lap. So there Yuuta sat, head leaned back on her chest as she fed him his soup and peas.

Brushing teeth was going to give Bokuto a heart attack. Yuuta bit hard down on Bokuto's hand when he tried to pass the toothbrush to Yuuta. Waving his hand in the air to try and manage the sting, she just picked Yuuta up and made him face the mirror with her. Tickling his stomach and helping Yuuta reach all of his teeth, twice.

When Y/n went to the restroom, Bokuto broke.

“Listen here you demon child. That is my girlfriend. You can play with your toys. Just stop taking my attention.”

“I don’t think so.” Yuuta lifted his hand and examined his nails.

“Alright. Little beast, what do I have to do?”

“Walk over the path of fears.” Yuuta pointed to the path paved with his colorful legos.

“Easy.”

“Without shoes.”

Bokuto gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“But I would.”

And that’s how Y/n came to find her boyfriend sitting on the ground with a frowning face and with Yuuta rolling around in laughter.

“Yuuta, let’s get you to bed, you’ve had enough fun for one night.” She swiftly picked up the child. Yuuta mumbled something about her and Bokuto being the best babysitters ever, and then promptly fell asleep in the crook of her neck.

When Y/n went back into the living room, she was attacked with hugs and kisses from Bokuto.

“I’m crying because I love you...and because I stepped on a lego.” He cried into Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n held back a laugh. “Is that so?”