I've loved this wonderful series for years after first finding the manga in Barnes and Noble, and reading it between college classes with a good steaming cup of coffee. I've been rereading a lot of manga lately and after finishing the series again, I've felt the urge to write about their love in an explicit way, because my mind likes to go crazy on me. I'm not sure how many of these one-shot/drabbles I'll end up writing. I've finished two at this point, and have a few more rattling around, but I'm an awful procrastinator, so we'll see.

These will be mostly post-marriage and include sexually explicit content. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, and hope anyone who sticks around to read enjoys it.

I do not own Lovely Complex, standard disclaimer, blah, blah, blah.

- Pickles -

Atsushi dropped his bag with a loud thunk on the floor of the living room and heaved a tired sigh. With a quick glance around the messy room, he frowned and called out, "Risa?"

Nothing.

Clothing littered the cream sofa, along with several food wrappers and – Atsushi squinted and took a step forward…was that a pickle on the armrest? He scoffed and picked it up. It was still somewhat cold from the refrigerator.

He had known Risa was a bit of slob before marrying her, but never did he imagine coming home from work and finding vegetables just sitting out on the furniture. He wasn't a particularly neat person himself, but this was a whole new level of sloppiness.

As he passed through the kitchen, he chucked the pickle into the trash and tried his best to ignore the tornadic mess everywhere.

"Risa?" he called out a second time. Again, silence. "That woman," he muttered.

He knew she was at home; he had seen her shoes by the door as he had come in.

As he walked into their bedroom, he took off his jacket and slung it on the bed. The door to the bathroom was wide open, and there was a strong scent of floral soap permeating the room.

A slow, pleasure-filled moan filled the air, and Atsushi furrowed his brow. In a few short strides, he was in the doorway of the bathroom, looking in on his wife as she relaxed neck-deep in bubble laden bathtub, her eyes closed and a goofy look of happiness on her features. She had pulled her hair back in a messy bun that sat atop her head with loose wisps damply clinging to her neck. She wore no makeup, and Atsushi preferred her this way – her face clear and freshly clean, her cheeks pink from the hot water of her bath and lips naturally rosy. One smooth, damp leg peaked up out of the water, her heel resting on the curve of the bathtub. She had painted her toenails a pale pink while he had been gone.

Atsushi's gaze caught on her bathtime snack, and he couldn't help blurting out, "What the heck is that?"

Risa's eyes snapped open and she gave a small gasp, jolting forward just the smallest amount. "Are you trying to scare me to death?" she retorted with a frown.

"Is that anyway to greet that man you love?"

She snorted into the bubbles, and sat up a little, the water slipping down to her collarbone. "I can't believe you still say that stupid line to me."

He quirked a brow and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't believe you left a pickle on the arm of the sofa."

She scoffed, "I did not!"

"You did."

"No, I wouldn't sacrifice such a heavenly piece of food that way."

"But, you did."

Risa shook her head adamantly and grabbed the bowl she had set on the wide rim of the tub against the wall. "I counted," she replied, pointing to the pickles in her snack. "There are six. See! One, two, three, four, five…" she trailed off as she realized that she was in fact missing one of her precious pickles. "How odd. It must have jumped ship."

"Undoubtedly," Atsushi replied wryly. "Please tell me they're not sitting in ice cream, because that's horrifying."

She pursed her lips into a small pout as she swirled her spoon in the mix. "I won't tell you then," she retorted.

Atsushi pushed away from the door with a look of disgust. "I can't even look at you anymore," he said as he strode over to the bed, shaking his head. Her heard her mutter something to herself, but it was too soft to understand.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, she called out to him, "How was the trip?"

"Exhausting. Next time we have an away tournament and I'm gone for a couple days, you're coming with me."

"I offered to come this time," she said, her words muffled as she ate a bite of that disgusting snack of hers.

"I know," he said, running his hands absently through his hair. "It was too hot, though. I would have been worrying about you instead of paying attention to the team. We barely won the games we did."

"I'm so proud of you! You got so far this time. You'll have the title next year. I can feel it," Risa gushed happily. Atsushi couldn't help but smile as she spoke. "Come back over here, so I can see you. I missed you, Shorty."

"Not a chance. I might lose my dinner if I see your pickle ice cream again."

"You don't know what you're missing. This is amazing. Even better than a Polynesian Dancer."

He heard some more crunching and content sigh.

"Your taste buds have turned you into a lunatic."

With a frown, he looked over at the overflowing basket of dirty laundry and into the empty drawer he had just pulled out. "Damnit," he muttered to himself. His postgame, comfy, super-special shorts were dirty.

"Oh, no," Risa wailed from the bathroom.

With narrowed eyes, he slowly looked over in the direction of his wife. That had been her I-need-something wail…her I'm-in-serious-trouble wail was much sharper and desperate.

"What are you up to, Koizumi," he said suspiciously as he walked back over to the bathroom.

She gasped in mock outrage. "Up to? And you know very well I'm an Otani."

As he stopped again in the doorway, he couldn't help but notice she had sat up, her legs bent as she held her knees against her chest.

"Please tell me you haven't turned your bath into some ice cream pickle nightmare."

Her eyes caught on his as he spoke, drifting down to his bare chest and staying there. Normally she would have replied with a cutting remark, but she seemed to have stalled, her eyes glazing over.

"Noooo," she drew out half-heartedly. "I forgot my towel across the room." She pointed at the folded blue towel on the bathroom sink.

Atsushi stepped into the room and moved over to the sink, but as he closed his fingers over the soft fabric of the towel, he heard cascading water behind him. He almost lost his grip on the towel as he quickly turned to see his wife step out of the bathtub and onto the small rug on the floor, water dripping slowly down her smooth skin.

While he had seen Risa naked many times, there was never a time where his heart didn't jump into this throat as he took in every inch of her glorious, tall body. She always had that same look of vulnerability in her expression as she bared herself to him, and he loved it. He loved seeing the blush slowly steal over cheeks, and her teeth grab her lower lip and worry it. He loved looking at his wife.

Her breasts were full and round, their peaks pebble hard with the sudden shift from water to air. One of her hands lingered absently on her hip and Atsushi's attention was drawn downward to the nest of curls at the junction of her thighs. Drops of water clung to those curls and he yearned to add a different type of moisture to them.

She held out a hand slowly, a small smile curling her lips. "Towel, Shorty."

His gaze returned to hers swiftly, and he frowned. "Watch it, woman."

She quirked a brow and wiggled her fingers. He noticed the slight shiver and the gradual peppering of goosebumps along her skin, and stepped forward suddenly, unfolding the towel and running it softly over her skin.

She looked amused as he dried her. "I know how to use a towel."

"Yes, but I do it better," he replied with a playful grin.

The blush on her cheeks had swept down her neck to the top of her chest, and while she would never agree with him verbally, her body told him all that he needed to know.

"You wish," she muttered, but she didn't stop him.

He lingered as he reached her midriff, his touch lighter, more reverent on the gentle swell of her belly. Her breath caught as she watched the towel slowly slip forgotten from his hands as his fingers ghosted over the proof of her pregnancy. She was still amazed at his reaction as her body changed, growing each day. She had heard that some men were turned on by their pregnant ladies, but it was more than that to Atsushi. Lust, love, adoration, disbelief, wonder all mixed in his face each time he saw her belly, and it made her chest hot and tight as she watched him. They were a very affectionate couple in the bedroom, but he had trouble keeping to himself even more so during her pregnancy. It made her feel beautiful.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to skin of the stomach, leaning his forehead against her. She slipped her fingers into his already mussed hair, loving the feel of it against her fingertips.

"Kiss me," Risa whispered, tugging slightly to pull his gaze to her face. "Kiss me, Atsushi."

He straightened, staring up at her, his eyes starting to burn, his breath quickening. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him into the bedroom. He led her to the bed, and she quickly sat on the edge, but before he could even move to fulfill her request, her fingers went to the button of his jeans, making quick work of the fastening, almost trembling to free her husband from his pants.

His body was wonderfully muscular from strenuous basketball practices with his team. He wasn't body builder status by any means, but his arms reflected hard work and determination, and Risa loved the hardness of his stomach.

As she pushed his pants down his hips, she stalled at the tent of his boxers, proof of his growing desire for her. His hands reached down for her hips and with a firm grip, lifted her and pushed her back further onto the bed. She fell back against the mattress as he moved over her, holding himself several inches above her body. She ached for the touch of his skin against her skin.

His hands moved to her cheeks, brushing the hair from face, and touching her lips. He stared down into her eyes, soaking in her anticipation and the swirling of emotion in her gaze. She opened her mouth to talk, but he leaned down, covering her lips with his and swallowing her moan. He sank against her as he swept her mouth with his tongue, crushing her breasts to his chest, his lower body pressing against her belly.

Risa whimpered as he grabbed her lower lip and sucked, nipped, and then licked the sting away. She tangled her tongue with his, her breath mingling with his as her fingers dug into his shoulder blades. She arched her hips against him, wanting, needing more of him.

He broke from her lips, traveling down her neck, nipping playfully as his hands slipped over her breasts, molding and caressing them. Risa cried out with surprise as his mouth closed over a nipple, the overly sensitive peak throbbing against Atsushi's tongue. His fingertips swept over her other nipple, teasing it as his mouth pulled and sucked, causing moisture to pool between her legs as she began to throb in need for him.

One of her legs bent up and she gasped. "Atsushi."

He lifted his head and glanced up at her, half-dazed. "Risa," he murmured, his eyes on hers, and he slipped his fingers through the moist warmth between her legs, coating his fingertips with her wetness before sliding them inside her.

"Otani," she cried, "I need you."

His gaze was serious as he watched her cheeks turn cherry apple red, his fingers stroking her slowly. "You have me, Risa." He was never one to be sappy – in fact, he hated it, but there was something about seeing her so crazy for his touch that made him say things that felt impossible in everyday life.

As he pulled his hands back and moved away from her, she bit her lip at the sudden coolness of the air against her bare body. She watched as he pushed his boxers down his hips and kick them away before turning back to her and pushing her thighs further apart.

Risa felt her stomach clench with anticipation at the sight of him, reflexively curving her legs up and around his hips as he leaned forward, pressing the tip of himself to her entrance. He was motionless for a moment, his hands resting on either side of her ribs, his eyes moving to hers.

He watched her expression as he slowly slid inside her, pushing himself to the hilt, burying himself deep. He pulled out just as slow, before repeating, keeping the slow, agonizing pace and watching pleasure cloud Risa's face.

She was so tight, so wet against him. It was torture to go so slow, but he loved seeing her eyes close as he pushed into her, her lips part as she moaned his name, and her legs curl tightly around him as he moved. She bucked her hips, moving with him as he buried himself in her. As he felt the gradual tightening of her around him, he quickened the pace, sweat beading his brow.

"Atsushi," she cried softly, her head pushing back into the mattress as she closed her eyes tightly against the oncoming rush of pleasure flooding her system. The soft sounds she made as he rocked into her made his heart pound heavily in his chest, and he came close to losing control.

Risa jerked against him, her heels pushing against the back of his thighs as a shockwave rippled through her, her core clamping tightly around him. She opened her eyes as she shook, watching Atsushi's face as she came around him. He was breathing heavily, his brow lined with concentration as he slowed his movements, pushing up and away from her. She moaned as he slid out, the warmth of his body covering hers gone as he moved off the bed.

A few seconds later, she felt his hands close around her the smooth skin of her calves, tugging her towards the edge of the bed. She was so overwhelmed by her own body, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, she was no help in scooting across the sheets. His hands slid down her legs to her ankle, wrapping around the delicate joint and pulling up, stretching her long leg and hooking it over his shoulder.

She was open to him, her legs spread so wide, her pink flesh throbbing for more. She felt the tip of his hardness brush against her inner thigh, and Risa felt that bead of anticipation unfurl in her chest again.

"Do you want more?" Atsushi asked huskily, his breath short.

Her gaze narrowed on him, spearing him with look of surprise. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm never stupid," he retorted.

Risa snorted, but any other reply she might have had was lost as she cried out when Atsushi plunged into her, stroking deep and quick. He was much more frenzied this time, his control held taunt by a string. He ached to fill her, to burst inside Risa and feel her convulse around him.

He watched her plump, wet flesh part each time he speared into her, her hot core rippling over him. He adjusted her leg over his shoulder, lifting her the smallest amount and changing the angle as he pumped in and out, in and out. She gave a small gasp each time he entered her, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to hold on, waiting for Risa.

She looked like a goddess to him, her full lips parted, wisps of hair clinging to her neck, breasts rising with each breath, and swollen belly a reflection of their relationship and their future.

He couldn't hold on any longer, his body rocking forcefully into hers, pushing his restraint beyond the limit. As he felt himself tighten, he groaned, his pleasure heightened even more as he felt the delicious clench of her slick canal around him as she came a second time, crying his name out desperately.

"Risa," he moaned, his seed filling her as her body welcomed his release. He was as breathless as she was, his chest heaving as he slowed, leaning against the side of the bed and letting her leg slide down from his shoulder. She languidly wrapped her legs around his hips, keeping him embedded inside her, not ready to lose the closeness.

Atsushi leaned over, planting his hands on the mattress on either side of her hips. Risa reached up, her fingers sliding up his arms and then over the front of his chest. She could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat against her fingertips.

"I can't move," he said.

Risa wiggled her hips as a tired, yet naughty smile curved her lips. His eyes darted to hers and she loved the absolute desire she saw in his gaze. Even spent and exhausted, he wanted her.

She released her hold on him, letting her legs relax against the side of the bed. She couldn't help but feel slightly bereft as his body left hers, leaving lingering moisture and warmth on her sensitive flesh. Atsushi slipped his hands under her and pulled Risa up to stand next to him.

"Let's get cleaned up," he said, pulling her after him into the bathroom.

Risa smiled at his back and replied, "I always love shampooing your hair."

"Idiot."

Later, Atsushi was roused from sleep with a slow, but definitely audible crunch, crunch, crunch. He could feel Risa's body next to him, her long legs stretched out along his shorter ones. There was a mutter, a shift on the mattress, and then more crunching. He tried to ignore it, and he had gotten used to trying to tune out Risa's odd little bed habits – video games, books, snacking, general muttering and yelling while she was still asleep, but for some reason tonight he just couldn't fall back under that blissful veil of sleep.

He rolled over onto his back and turned to stare at his wife. She was propped up against the headboard, a purple bowl decorated with bunnies on it in her lap. He watched with growing horror as she scooped a large glob of vanilla ice cream onto the end of a large dill pickle and took a huge bite.

"How are you still alive?" he gasped with wide eyes.

Risa sighed happily. "This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten in my life."

"If you ever want me to kiss you again, you'll throw that out."

She frowned down at him, and then deliberately took another bite of the pickle. Her mouth still full, she replied, "You will kiss me and you will like it."

He stirred at the challenge in her voice. "Not likely, Amazon!"

Her hair stuck out in every direction possible, and she wore a t-shirt large enough that it looked like she was encased in a tent, but when her lips curved in a knowing smile, and her eyelids drooped just enough to show her intent, he knew he was in trouble.

She slid down and shoved the pickles away without a second thought. Before he could even speak, her lips were on his and he was done. Gone. Braindead.

He didn't even care that she tasted like vanilla pickles. Atsushi welcomed her tongue into his mouth with moan as she settled her body against him. He slid his hands under the voluminous folds of the t-shirt to feel the warmth of her skin, his palms settling on her back.

They nipped, caressed and tasted each other, their lips mingling, and when Risa pulled back, he leaned up to try and recapture her mouth, not ready to stop tasting her lips.

"You were saying," she murmured.

"Oh, shut up and come back to me," he retorted, his hands pressing against her back to pull her back down. She laughed happily against his mouth and did exactly that.