This fic is a gift for leiilucene/Promechan, based on her "Married Life" artworks. Happy birthday!

When Futaba Sakura was first offered overtime at double her rate of pay, she took it without much hesitation, her logic being that the extra money could go towards a holiday for herself and her beloved husband, Ren. Either that, or some seriously nice components to replace his tragically outdated computer.

What she was not expecting was a solid two weeks of work with no days off in between. When her manager had initially posed the prospect of overtime, she was told "a few more hours on a few days, to make up for the missing team member while we find a new one to hire". That statement proved to be highly inaccurate when the rotas were published, and Futaba saw "F. Sakura: 80.00" plastered across the top of it. She had almost screamed when that appeared the next week as well.

She had been alright at first, but hours of looking at a screen every day, combined with a lack of hands in the team meant that lines of code that should have been simple ended up bouncing back at her several times. Too many team members asking for help cut into her time even more. And all the while, as the days passed, the number of errors appearing with every press of "run script" was increasing.

If she had a CPU, she was certain that it would be about to short circuit.

The result of her long days left her absolutely shattered by the time she got back to Yongen-Jaya, leaving her in no mood for any personal indulgence. The usual evening routine had saw her trudging into Leblanc and robotically eating a plate of curry before crashing onto her bed and passing out. Upon waking the next morning she would see that Ren had joined her without waking her (not an amazing achievement, she was a heavy sleeper at the best of times), and an hour later she would be out of the door and on her way to another long day. By her final day of overtime she felt as if the first thing she would buy with all of her earnings was a coffin.

One more day of overtime, you can do it girl. She stared herself out in the mirror, prodding the now-distinct bags under her eyes. I need to get more sleep…

The current project was starting to come together- the program was beginning to work as intended, with fewer problems with each test. She was sure that after two hours the error messages would be pouring in.

The day did not start well- there were two emails flagged as urgent waiting for her when she logged in, as well as a notification that a team member had called in sick. That made two people missing from the team. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Futaba cracked her knuckles and got to work.

Futaba sometimes questioned why she even bothered with her current team. Personally, she would have sacked the lot of them and gone solo had she had that power, but since this was the highest paying job that would accept her, she had to stick with it. Every time she turned her attention to her own script, another cry for help would come and her attention would be drawn away. Her poor script was getting neglected, and she was fast running out of patience for people who, in her eyes, were incapable of solving entry-level problems. It must have been starting to show, since nervous glances were being cast her way whenever she stood up now. Good, perhaps they'd give her some peace.

By the time she went on her break, painfully little progress had been made, and her frustration had given her a headache. She collapsed into the empty break room, groaning and pulling her phone from her jacket pocket.

Messaging: Smugsbando

To: please tell me this bento is like 90% ice

From: unfortunately not, but i can assure you the taste makes up for it

From: rough day?

To: yes :c

To: i am a bright star surrounded by an accretion disk of idiots

From: surely they're not that bad!

To: 17 instances of the wrong type of bracket. SEVENTEEN

While awaiting his next reply, Futaba opened the box Ren had given her that morning. Inside were various sweet rices, vegetable toppings and dips. She said a silent prayer to him for making it a refrigerated meal.

From: Say, at least the office has aircon

To: LeBlanc's broke?

From: yep, had to close early because its too warm for the customers

From: desperate times, desperate measures

Smugsbando has sent a photo.

Futaba nearly choked on her rice when she opened the image Ren had sent. It was a picture of him, wearing only an apron. The angle of the shot was showing off the toned musculature of his chest and legs, and it seemed to Futaba that he was posing specifically to show off his rear. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

From: its just way too warm today…

To: you stop that

From: what, you dont like it?

From: I could take the apron off, if you'd like

To: DO NOT

She took a steadying breath before stowing her phone and continuing to eat her lunch, making a conscious effort to avoid thinking about the photo. She had a job to do. Said job was stressful enough without a teasing Ren distracting her. Her head hit the table, and she whined. There were too many hours left in her shift for her to be dealing with this now. Upon finishing her lunch, she checked her phone again. Ren had sent another photo simply captioned "whoops". Part of her knew that the contents of the photo were just as risqué as the first, and that looking would only make the rest of her day more uncomfortable. Curiosity won out, however, and she opened the file. She was graced with the image of Ren wringing out a coffee-stained apron into the sink. Of course, he couldn't have just taken the apron off to do this, oh no; he had apparently spilled coffee on the bottom of the apron, and had instead elected to lift it up to the sink while still wearing it. The resultant image left very little to the imagination. She practically punched her phone back into her pocket, ensuring it was muted, before returning to her desk, giving a cursory nod to her colleagues that she was now off her break.

To her credit, she tried to carry on working as if she hadn't just been sent two very inflammatory pictures. Unfortunately for her, a line from one of her favourite films was ringing true: ideas truly were the most resilient parasite, and right now, her head was filling with thoughts of Ren in sequentially less clothing. Suddenly the office's air conditioning wasn't feeling quite as powerful as it had been. She could feel herself getting far too warm. The project was becoming less important in her mind. She needed relief- a stealthy inspection of her underwear just confirmed that. She stood up, muttering to her nearest teammate that she was going to the toilet, almost forgetting to save her script in the process. She let out a deep, shuddering sigh when she was safely locked in a cubicle. She checked to make sure there was no-one else in the toilets. When she was certain she was alone, she whipped out her phone.

Messaging: Smugsbando

To: I hope you're happy

From: whatever do you mean

To: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

From: i have absolutely no idea

Instead of sending a worded reply, she simply lifted her skirt and took a photo, ensuring that her arousal was visible before sending it to Ren.

You sent a photo.

From: oh, did I do that? Silly me.

To: hav you just decided to be a total prick today

From: hey you know what rhymes with prick

To: what?

To: DO NOT

Smugsbando has sent a photo.

It was a frontal shot of Ren, pitching a very obvious tent in his apron. Futaba almost screamed. A new wave of heat was rising up her face. Her arousal was second only to her indignation at this point. She pouted, working her panties free of her hips and sliding them down her legs. She parted her lips with her other hand while she took another photo.

You sent a photo.

To: two can play at that game :3

From: oh, you're goingvthere are you?

Smugsbando has sent a video.

It was a view of Ren's room above LeBlanc. It first panned towards the desk, showing Ren's hand turning on a fan. The camera then moved, looking straight down his body. He was still wearing only the apron. The fan began to turn, the moving air lifting the apron, pushing it aside, and then the video stopped.

To: you're going to show me the sequel right now

From: don't you have a job to do?

Crap!

Futaba checked the time; she'd been touching herself in there for ten minutes. Too long. Far too long. She quickly pulled her panties back up, cringing when she felt how cold they were. She hurried back to her desk, trying her hardest to look busy to distract from the aching heat that was now persisting inside her. It didn't take long before someone noticed she wasn't on top form. Her manager, Koyama, had come over and was looking at her with some concern.

"Are you okay, Futaba-san? You don't look so good. Are you feeling alright?"

"J-just a little warm, that's all."

"Are you sure? You look a little pale."

...is it okay to be selfish? Just this once…?

"Are you- you're trembling Futaba-san! Surely you're not okay?"

"N-now that you m-mention it, no…" She muttered, deliberately making herself sound weak and ill. She held up a hand, and was actually shocked to see she really was trembling. "O-oh."

"Sitting and staring at a screen is not going to do you any good. You look horrendous. Don't tell the others but i really do think you should go home."

"Y-yeah, I'll g-get my stuff…"

She ensured that her progress was saved before she closed the program and shut down the computer. Five minutes later she was clocked out and making the journey home.

Ren almost had a heart attack when he heard a key in LeBlanc's lock. He was only wearing an apron still, and so decided to run upstairs and hope Sojiro didn't look through the glass. The bell rang twice, and was followed by the sound of the door being locked again.

"Hello?" Futaba called.

Ren emerged from his room, sporting that trademark smirk. She very quickly recognised the sound of bare feet on the stairs, and affixed him with a smouldering glare as he descended. His smirk didn't falter.

"Hot day at work?" He innocently asked.

"Shut up. Make coffee."

Futaba collapsed into one of the booths, her glare losing none of its intensity. He could see that she was flushed, and could hear her breathing heavily. I did that. He thought to himself, his smirk cracking into a grin at his own "achievement". It took him no time at all to make the coffee. His skill had only increased over the years; Sojiro pretty much let him run the place, and yet insisted that he wasn't retired. He placed the now-full cup on a saucer and took it over to Futaba, setting it down on the table. As he tried to move back to the kitchen, a deceptively strong grip closed over his apron, pulling him down onto the seat.

"Nuh-uh. You don't get off that easily. You're gonna help me drink."

"Was work that bad? Surely you still have functioning arms."

"Yeah, I do, they're just going to be full in a minute."

Futaba smirked as Ren's was replaced by a look of confusion.

"Well don't just sit there! I'm thirsty. Give me coffee."

Arching a brow, Ren picked up the saucer and cup, lifting the latter to her lips. She took a sip, and sighed.

"How do you make this stuff taste so good? You and Sojiro aren't secretly warlocks, are you?"

"Nope, we're just that damn good."

"Hmmm, cheeky."

She tilted her head, signalling that she wanted more coffee. As Ren lifted the cup, he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Futaba sipped from the cup again, and when Ren moved the saucer away, his own face flooded with heat when he saw that she had hiked her skirt up and was slowly massaging between her legs. He swallowed nervously. She gave him a sidelong glance.

"Hey, don't get distracted. Coffee."

He lifted the cup to her lips. She exhaled shakily before drinking from it, staring at Ren with a smug smile, watching as he heated up, seeing the frustration of not being able to "help" appearing on his face. She took another sip of coffee.

"Haaah… h-hot day at work today, Ren?" She panted, enjoying the indignation on his face. She giggled. "Oh c-come on, did you think teasing me like that would have no consequences?"

Ren stiffened as Futaba decided to lie down, her head landing in his lap. He was sat very straight, taking in every aspect of Futaba as she lay there: the deep blush and sweat on her face, that teasing smirk, the movement of her hips as she pleasured herself. And yet he couldn't see that, due to the position of her skirt. He knew that was intentional. And now he was getting hard, which she would also know, since her head was right on top of his member, teasing it with every turn of her head. He wasn't sure if this was heaven or hell.

Futaba decided to tease him some more. One hand left her crotch and started stroking around the edge of his apron. The sharp intake of breath she elicited brought her a satisfaction that she couldn't put into words. She carried on, turning over onto her front so that she could better see what she was doing. Ren's arousal was clear, and she giggled again when he looked away from her salacious gaze. She tugged at the apron, watching the fabric stretch over his member. Ren shuddered.

"Mph- more coffee please!"

She noticed Ren's hands were shaking as he lowered the cup to her mouth. She drained the remaining coffee, and as Ren moved the cup away, she slid a hand under his apron and brushed his inner thigh with her nails. His reaction was instant; his hand jerked upwards, and he grunted.

"Ooo, you sound pent-up. Kind of like what i felt like today, maybe?"

"Is that all it takes? An apron and some good camera- ah!"

He was cut off when Futaba took hold of his shaft and squeezed gently, using her teeth to move his apron out of the way. He set the cup and saucer down on the table, leaning back in his chair and letting out a deep moan as Futaba ran her tongue up his thigh. She nuzzled the base of his erection, playfully blowing air up his length, watching as he twitched with pleasure. After one more slow lick up his length, she took him into her mouth. His hands settled on the back of her head, stroking her hair, gently urging her to take more of him in. She was happy to oblige, flicking her tongue around his tip, reveling in the lustful sounds he was making. She had missed those sounds in the two weeks of over time she had suffered through. It had been far too long for both of them. And it showed- Ren's breathing quickened after just three minutes, and he finished shortly after, his hips thrusting and hands holding her head in place as he came. With no other option, Futaba swallowed, waiting for Ren to release her head. When he did so, she sat up, taking in a deep breath. Ren looked embarrassed.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking away from her playful stare. Futaba pulled herself up so that her head was level with his, her body leaning on his.

"Hey." She whispered directly into his ear. "Its fine. You can make it up to me, I'm far from done just yet."

Futaba had yet to climax. She looked at Ren, who smirked back at her. She grinned. He kissed her. She tasted like coffee. Her hands then found the back of his head and pushed him down to her skirt. She didn't bother taking it off, she just parted her legs to allow him access. He momentarily pushed them back together in order to remove her panties, raising a brow at her eagerness.

"Don't blame me. You're the one wearing just an apron." She remarked.

Ren wasted no time replying- he instead pushed his tongue into her, feeling Futaba's legs cross around his head as he did so. The message was clear- he wasn't leaving until she was finished. It wasn't long until she did so, especially when one of his free hands went searching for her clit and was successful in its search. Barely a minute later, she was writhing in ecstasy, her legs squeezing tighter around his head, an unspoken demand for him to keep doing what he was doing. She finished with an extended moan, her legs going limp, allowing Ren to back away. He wiped his face with his apron. It would definitely need washing now, along with Futaba's skirt. She panted, getting her breath back. God she had been sorely needing that sort of treatment. Ren sighed and lay down on top of her, his lips meeting hers in a heated kiss. She stroked his hair, humming happily. She had missed this sort of contact- overtime left her too tired to do anything other than eat and fall asleep. She had been frustrated, Ren had clearly been frustrated. But now there was no more overtime to do. The future was definitely looking brighter.

But the two of them were still far too warm. They needed more.

Their kiss deepened, and Ren's hands were wandering again, caressing her sides, then her thighs, before moving to her inner thighs. Her leg was pressed against his crotch, and as he started to slide his fingers into her, she began to move her leg back and forth. Her fingers twisted through his hair, giving small tugs before her grip loosened. She stroked his ears, then the back of his neck. Her hands then moved lower, giving his toned arse a squeeze before she moved them back to his member.

Ren broke off the kiss, and Futaba yelped as he picked her up, laying her down on the booth's table. Her hands had moved to the back of his neck in order to keep balance, and she took the opportunity to undo the knot holding the apron in place. It fell to the floor, leaving Ren completely exposed. His hands moved, first directing her legs to cross around his body, and then they closed around her wrists, pinning her to the table. She almost objected, she almost spoke out, almost told Ren to at least let her sit up. Her protests vanished from her mind as he thrust into her, and she moaned unashamedly. The two weeks of waiting had supercharged her senses. She couldn't tell if Ren only felt bigger, or really was bigger at this point in time, but she didn't care. She only had the capacity to moan one word.

"M...more!"

Ren intensified his thrusting, leaning in to silence her moans with a passionate kiss. They stopped only to breathe- after each heavy gasp, their lips were locked again, Futaba's chest bouncing every time he thrust into her. One of his hands relinquished her wrist in order to undo her shirt buttons, parting the fabric to expose her bra. He quickly lifted her, and she clung to his neck with both hands as one of his own reached to undo her bra. She was back on the table immediately after, one of her hands pinned by one of Ren's, the other thrust between her legs. Ren's other hand now played across her chest, gently teasing her nipples and giving the occasional squeeze. They kissed again.

Ren's breathing was becoming laboured, as was Futaba's. He was long gone at this point, transfixed by how beautiful he found the woman beneath her. The look of pure joy on her face, the bright flame of her hair spread across the table like the corona of a star, the way her breathing matched his.

"Futaba…!"

"Oh my god Ren you better not stop now."

Futaba was so close to finishing. The fingers on her free hand were pressing hard into her nethers, taking her to the edge of release. All it took was one particularly hard thrust from Ren and she was tipped over the threshold, flinging her arms around Ren as her entire body shook in pleasure. She felt herself clamp down around his member, and that feeling sent him over the edge. He leaned over her, a deep moan escaping his lips that Futaba muffled with a kiss. She felt the heat of his seed spreading inside her, and her tired state of bliss was swiftly overshadowed by quiet shock. Ren was currently lay on top of her, recovering.

"Hey." She muttered. "Hey… stand up, I think we forgot something."

He mumbled something unintelligible and pushed himself off the table, sliding out of her in the process.

I'm going to need to bleach this table, or something. He thought. He then looked down further. Wait…

"Did we-"

"Yep."

"Without protection?"

Ren raised his hands to cover his face. Futaba recognised it as a sign of panic.

"Oh my God… Futaba, I'm so sorry. Look, I'll get dressed, I'll get to Tae's she'll have something to deal with this right?" His attention was shifting around the room, searching for anything that might help, despite him knowing full well that anything that could help deal with the situation was in Takemi's clinic, or Futaba's bedroom. "I could check your room first. I'm sure you have something, right? We had something prepared to deal-"

"Hinata."

Ren stopped moving, turning to face Futaba. She smiled warmly, standing up and taking his hands in her own. A brief drip meant that Ren would also have to bleach the floor.

"Hinata? What do you mean, Futaba?"

"Weeeeeell… we need a name, don't we? And I'm just remembering to back when you saved me. My life was over, it was like fog, everywhere. All I could think about was my mom's death, and how I thought it was my fault. And then i heard of the Phantom Thieves, how they could change hearts! You were like a massive ray of sunlight, a way out!" She looked down, placing both their hands on her belly. "You gave me that hope. So I want our child to embody that same hope."

When she looked up, Ren was looking at her with what looked like limitless pride.

"What? Eep!"

Ren swept her off her feet, taking her into a bridal carry.

"I think that that name and reasoning is as beautiful as the woman who thought of it." He kissed her forehead, and beamed when she kicked her feet excitedly. "Now come on you, there's a much more comfortable bed upstairs."

She giggled, resting her head against his shoulder as he carried her upstairs and placed her on their bed. He flinched when she suddenly shouted.

"Oh! It's almost like leading the Thieves into the light too!"

Ren couldn't help but laugh as he joined her in the bed, helping her take off her remaining clothes before embracing her, patting the top of her head. She hummed contentedly.

"Heh heh heh, you're gonna be a dad, Joker! What are the others going to say?"

"I don't think either of us are ever going to be prepared to break that news to them."

Futaba smiled a smile that could thaw the arctic.

"Well, I'm sure they'll only have good things to say. We'll find out."

"We will. Together."

LeBlanc Coffee and Curry

Closed for cleaning

Sorry for the inconvenience!