Eddie + Trauma

sorry,I had to do this,my mental illness told me to

╰ . ୭ ┆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ˚. ᵎᵎ

every time you painted your nails you would notice eddie's attention would waver over from whatever it was he was doing.

not only did he think it was cool, the way you created cute little pictures on the end of your fingers, but he also loved the sight of you doing it. you'd adorn nothing but one of his old shirts over your underwear so to not spill anything on yourself as you sat on his bed, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly as you retained your focus. and he wouldn't say anything, but he relished in it.

he would edge himself closer to you on the bed, his body encapsulating you, as you brushed the varnish across your nails with intricate detailing and attention. but today, specifically, he seemed a little more than intrigued by what you were doing than he had been any other day. "do you wanna help me?" you offer him the brush in your hand and he perks up a little. those beautiful big brown eyes of his upturning as they light up. "really?" he asks and you nod.

he takes your hand in his, his fingers soft against the palm of your hand, and as slow and steady as he can he swipes the colour down your nails. with each completed finger he becomes more and more proud of himself, and once done, he beams with a smile before it falters. it's only a split second but it's enough for you to see it. his eyes meet yours for a moment and his lips quirk up into an embarrassed smile. "will you... do mine?"

within an instant you're laying out your nail polish for him and the embarrassment dissipates as he chooses his colours carefully. he eventually plucks a mahogany coloured bottle and a black one, asking if you could do your little patterns across his fingers and you do. watching his excitement grow with each finger until he's almost bursting at the seams.

"what do you think?" you ask once you're done and he holds his hands out in front of him to really take in the sight.

“i love them… thank you," he beams, his expression changing into adoration, before peppering sweet kisses all over your face.

Thinking about curling up in bed with your boy after a long day and he just squishes his face to your chest and sighs, knowing you’re the only thing he looks forward to on his way home 🚬

what comes from his mouth might as well be a foggy detection of echolocation to any other person, but luckily, it’s just your boyfriend. he’s got his cheek pressed against the fabric of your tshirt, eyes shut, bleached hair falling in messy tufts over the both of you. he does it again. “mmmphh.”

“KENMA,” you breathe, holding in a laugh to refrain from scaring him off. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

he lifts his face from your ribs, finally, staring up at you almost boredly. there’s a twitch to his brows that gives him away, a slight crease that whispers of his annoyance in the subtlest of ways. his narrowed eyes meet yours. “you find this funny.”

you’re half sputtering and half grinning by the time he’s finished his sentence, the knowledge that although he was correct it was in the most incorrect form of perception something that you couldn’t express. yes, it was funny, but not in the har-har, get a load of this guy way. it was in a look at my avoidant grump curled up on my chest like a needy cat, I should take a picture to remember this way. now that you thought of it, your eyes flickered to your phone on the side table.

“don’t.”

you huff.

“so you laugh in my face and expect me to let you exploit me as well?” he asks, almost playful interrogation flowing from him like honey. he could be a little sweeter if he really wanted it to apply, but you couldn’t ask for more. not when he was like this.

you brush a stray piece of hair from his face, not missing the way his expression softens at the ghost of touch. “not laughin’ at you. you’re just cute like this is all.”

the passive expression melts into pure embarrassment, and soon enough his face is a magnificent shade of pink before its being nuzzled into you again. “don’t say things like that.”

“but it’s true?” he can hear the smirk in your tone without raising his gaze.

his voice is muffled once again as he responds, “don’t care.”

“seems like you do.” you drawl, voice oddly sing-song in the quiet of the evening.

“shut up.”

a/n: missing reya hours.

Eddie fell asleep watching TV

Simon and the undescribable urge to just suddenly fucking rub his face on you. It doesn't matter where. In public or at home he's going to suddenly force himself a little lower and scratch his face on your neck or shoulder etc.

Ticklish? He doesn't care, he'll just move down to your arm. Don't you know his mask makes his skin itchy?

bf!todoaoi

he’s soooooooo clingy, like this mf cannot do anything without you in his sight, in his arms, or on his mind.

asks you to sit on his back while he does pushups because he wants you to be a part of his workout. He gets offended when you ask if you’re too heavy and he’ll be like “You really think I’m that weak I can’t handle a lil thing like you?”

When he’s extra clingy he’ll tell you to lay flat on the ground and do pushups while hovering over you just so he can kiss you every time he lowers himself. He’ll even “fall” on top of you just to annoy you more but he holds back cuz he knows he’s way bigger than you and will definitely crush you if he didn’t.

Speaking of his size, this man is quite literally humongous. His large hands easily grip your thighs and you often find yourself being pulled in by your thighs just so he can lay in between them claiming that it’s his “therapy”.

You often find him moving his hands towards your ass and cupping his hands around it while his face is buried in your thighs. You tried slapping his hand away once but he ignored it and you've just learned to accept your fate.

Todo knows he’s fine, but it doesn’t help when he catches you ogling him every hour of the day. Whether it be you staring at his hands/forearms as he does a task, staring up and down his torso and admiring his firm and defined 8 pack and large pecs, or even burning holes through him as you stare at his wide muscular back while he makes you both breakfast.

He loves to workout just because he knows he has a little freak at home that admires everything about his body, a little too much sometimes.

One time you walked up to him and squeezed his large pecs,

“You have such mommy mikers,”

he laughed and grabbed your hands pulling you close up against his chest.

“you’re so odd baby,” he teased and gave you a peck on the lips knowing damn well he enjoyed how much you praised his body.

He is DEEPLY infatuated with you and he makes it very clear.

He’s always telling people about his “amazing girlfriend” or bringing you up in a conversation when someone says something that reminds him of you or something you did.

He isn’t afraid to show you off, he’s so proud of himself for landing someone like you.

When you two first got together, he told Yuji all about you, he described you as "an angel sent from heaven" and wouldn't' shut up about you. He would talk you up so much that Yuji didn't believe you even existed until Todo showed a pic of you sleeping soundly on his chest. Yuji praised Todo even more after that.

Todo doesn’t care what you wear out, because he knows that he’s with you and he knows no sane man will ever approach you while his large hands constantly roam around your body.

dress is too short? No problem his hands will be on your ass all night anyways.

this drabble had been in the drafts for too long so I js uploaded it :3not proofread btw so if its messy oh well:pLikes comments and reblogs appreciated!!

-k

Kenma is currently trying his best to keep his hands from shaking. He is ultimately unsuccessful when he finally gets them to hold still, just to have his leg shaking right in its place. He hates fighting with you, and to be honest he is really trying to avoid it. But how can he when he is almost certain that you are slipping away from him in favor of your new coworker. He would be lying if he said that he always felt secure in your relationship, but it was never your fault. He had always subconsciously felt like you needed someone who wasn't so introverted so you could properly enjoy dates, vacations, and parties like you deserved. He had been quite surprised when you didn't seem to mind that most of your dates were at either your or his apartment or that he was never the last one to stay at one of Kuroo's events. He considered himself lucky, but that doesn't mean he still wondered if you would ever find someone else.

Kenma's head snaps up as he hears your keys in the door. He takes a steeling breath to calm his nerves and hopefully get his thoughts in order. You come in and your eyes immediately fall onto your sweet boyfriend. Kenma can see the smile growing on your face as soon as you catch his eye and he feels bad that he has to be the one to ruin it for you. He sees the look of confusion that takes over your face at Kenma's face. "Hey baby is everything okay?" Your voice always sounds so sweet and hearing it almost makes him want to just drop this subject. How could the love of his life, with the sweetest smile and the sweetest voice ever do something as heinous as cheating? There's no way.

"Yeah, I just think we should talk." Your heart drops at Kenma's tone. He sounds as if he's a shell of a person, like whatever is bugging him has taken root and replaced your Kenma. Your voice is much shakier when you respond "Yeah, no problem." Kenma doesn't miss the fact that you stopped yourself from saying babe at the end of your sentence and feels absolutely distraught. He never thought that you withholding a pet name from him would absolutely wreck him as much as it does. He takes a deep breath before he bluntly asks "Are you interested in Hikaru-san?" You stare at him blankly as you process his words. Interested? Why would you ever be interested in Hikaru? You confidently tell Kenma "No, why would I be interested in Hikaru-san?" Kenma then responds with a cold "Then why have you been talking and hanging out with them so much?" You try to hold back your laughter at the absolute ridiculousness of this whole situation. Your boyfriend that you live with and have been with for years is jealous of the young intern that has been appointed as your trainee. The only reason why Hikaru has had to text you so often is because he has gotten lost taking the train back to his university more times than you can count. He had a big heart, but he could be a little dense. You two had also had to stay overtime a few days because he had forgotten to turn in some very important paperwork and you were scared if you left him alone to do it he would mess something up. You decide that showing Kenma instead of telling Kenma would be a much better course of action, so you unlock your phone and hand it to your skeptical boyfriend. He looks up at you for confirmation and starts looking through your text messages with Hikaru after you smile and nod at him to start the search. What he gathers from the messages is that your responses are very polite and almost monotone. It's exactly what he would expect from a coworker that you aren't particularly close to. He also notices that Hikaru's texts are anything but flirty. Almost all of his messages consist of him panicking over getting off at the right stop and missing an important meeting, or him trying to gauge how much time an important task will take so he can try and make time for his own coursework. He hands you your phone back sheepishly, but he still thinks that something has to be going on. He waits as you quickly navigate to your instagram to show him Hikaru's profile. You turn your screen around to face Kenma as you go through Hikaru's bio and posts. You see realization dawn as Kenma's face before he looks up at you to confirm to see a knowing smile spread across your face.

"Ken he has a boyfriend."

Oh.

is your girlfriend single?

characters: ushijima, iwaizumi, sakusa

warnings: timeskip! also not beta-ed

note/s: i do not feel like writing a new piece rn so here's a lil repost from my old account (2)

(suna, atsumu, bokuto)

ushijima:

ushijima tried his hardest not to look as if he wasn't bored in the ongoing interview. well, he wasn't. but he has been told by their manager that his resting face looks very unapproachable.

he was fiddling with his fingers as the rest of his team members were answering fan questions. letting out a small smile whenever he finds some questions funny and the way that kourai reacts overdramatically. 

"ah, here's a question for big boy, wakatoshi!" kourai announced as he squinted his eyes on the influx of questions.

"yes?" ushijima responded, sitting up a bit more upright. 

"is your girlfriend single?" kourai bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at the question. 

the spiker furrowed his eyebrows in thought. 

"i do not have a girlfriend." was all he said.

the atmosphere was silent as the rest of his team looked at him in shock and mostly worry.

ushijima noticed and looked around the room to see the camera staff and team looking at him. 

"what?" 

"you just said..." kageyama trailed off, hesitant to continue. 

"you broke it off with (y/n)?!" kourai interrupted. 

ushijima frowned, as if that was the most absurd thing he heard.

"(y/n) and i are happily engaged. she is my fiancé." ushijima said plainly, as if he didn't just cause the live chat box to spam with shocked and congratulatory messages.

"and you didn't tell us?!" if anyone was the most offended, it would be kourai.

"i thought the ring was obvious. kageyama has told me it looked nice." the team's heads whipped to kageyama who spluttered on how he didn't know it was an engagement ring. 

ushijima hummed. "it seems like i have not announced this." 

"you think?" he hears kourai's retort but pretended not to.

"me and (y/n) are engaged, therefore, she is now my fiance and not my girlfriend." ushijima said to the camera. "i hope this clarifies my answer." a few more questions were answered, mostly questions in regards to you and ushijima’s engagement before the staff announced that the livestream was over.

“that was a terrible way of announcing that you are engaged.” he hears his captain mutter. ushijima nodded in acknowledgement before heading home to you who was waiting to scold him after watching the livestream. 

iwaizumi: 

the trainer didn’t know how he was roped into answering WIRED questions when he wasn’t the one in court. he was already halfway when the staff gave him a new board but he was shocked to see that it was filled with questions not about him, but about you.

“your fans wanted to know about your relationship with (y/n).” hoots from outside the camera’s view were heard, iwaizumi internally sighed, knowing that this would be fuel for the team to tease their trainer.

“let’s get this over with.” the trainer says before ripping the first tape from the board. “is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… staged?” he gave a deadpan expression to the camera. 

“(y/n) has been with me since we were third years, waited for me to return to japan after leaving for california and is currently living with me in our apartment. yes, our relationship is staged.” iwaizumi said sarcastically as he held the second tape by his fingertips. 

“is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… oikawa’s ex. what?” he didn’t know whether the staff is being serious as he gave another unimpressed look.

“no, i’m her first boyfriend and the last.” he smirked at his promise, the staff already knew that that alone will become a trending snippet. 

he answered a few more questions in haste, don’t get him wrong. he loves you but he would rather keep details about your relationship private. 

“aight, last one.” iwaizumi ripped the last piece of tape off the board. 

“is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… single?” he raised a brow at that question. 

“where the hell are you getting these questions?” iwaizumi asked rhetorically. “these are the most searched questions about your girlfriend.” one of the staff answered him. 

iwaizumi shook his head in disbelief. “wow… you’d think people actually unironically search for this.” he cleared his throat before looking straight at the camera. 

“i’m going to say this for the last time. my girlfriend isn’t single and won’t be for the longest time before i make her my wife.” iwaizumi stated, voice clear as if he was determined. 

the staff were clearly having a field day, knowing how much this episode will trend because of how whipped and dedicated the sought out trainer was for you. 

the interview ended shortly.  iwaizumi thanked the staff for having him only to be bombarded with a lot of comments filled with adoration towards your relationship. the trainer smiled before finishing up and heading home. 

“you look happy.” you greet him by the door, iwaizumi scoffed playfully before pulling you by your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“of course i am, i come home to you.” iwaizumi thought of the comments from the staff, ‘marry her.’ was the comment that stuck to his mind. 

he already had the ring in the bottom drawer, tucked away by his socks. 

sakusa:

sakusa supposes that being an athlete involved having to deal with interviews. well, interviews that came with the sport, not whatever their team was currently doing. 

sakusa, atsumu, hinata, and bokuto were sat down on chairs, a small metal bucket in the middle of them filled with numerous pieces of papers, printed tweets, to be exact. 

“ooh, this is a good one! were bokuto and hinata close before msby?” bokuto read aloud before beaming at the camera and recollecting the memories from when they were in highschool. 

“fun fact! we all knew each other in some way, waaaay back in high school.” bokuto said before atsumu and sakusa nodded in confirmation. 

sakusa looked at the bucket as his teammates plucked random pieces of papers and answering them with ease. “why are sakusa’s wrists so flexible? please he could like… slap me and i would feel it twice in one motion. great, now all i’m thinking about it sakusa slapping me.” atsumu read aloud, voice turning a mocking pitch at the last sentence. 

“it’s called hypermobility-”  he paused as he saw bokuto and hinata look at him curiously. “otherwise known as being double-jointed. and no, i will not slap you. next tweet, please.”

“how boring, omi.” atsumu teased, sakusa rolled his eyes at the setter. “next. tweet.” 

“okay, okay. calm down.” atsumu surrendered, bokuto plucked another piece of paper before reading it out loud. 

“is sakusa’s girlfriend single? because i saw her in msby’s game against raijins and damn. if sakusa doesn’t wife her up immediately then i would gladly do the honors.” the whole room went silent after bokuto read the paper. the spiker’s eyes widened as he looked towards sakusa. 

“i was only reading the tweet!” 

“no. she isn’t, next question.” was only sakusa’s answer. his voice left no room for argument as atsumu hastily grabbed another piece of paper, moving on from the previous tweet. 

the team believed that due to sakusa’s reaction, that segment would be removed. but to the surprise of everyone, it was part of the final cut and managed to blow up. the fans swooned on how territorial sakusa had been and there were a few feedbacks that sakusa’s eyes softened at the mention of your name in the video. 

sakusa knew that, but he would never admit to it. 

“so.” you start as you lie down next to your boyfriend as the both of you watch the interview. “territorial, huh.” 

“you’re mine and you know it.” sakusa grumbled as he cuddled closer to your chest, watching the remaining few minutes. 

“of course i am, ‘yoomi.” you reply, kissing the crown of his head and watching the interview once more.

pregnancy cravings with miya atsumu.

Pregnancy cravings never really made sense to Atsumu. Then again, he never got to the part of anatomy and physiology when he was studying physical therapy before he decided to go pro as a volleyball player.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t supportive; no, he prided himself on being a great husband. And now, with you, his wife, pregnant with your first child, he was determined to be the most supportive, loving, and accommodating partner ever.

Nothing was going to stand in his way—not distance, not logic, and certainly not impossible cravings.

It started simple. Like it always did.

You wanted a specific pastry from a bakery on the other side of Japan? Done. He booked the fastest delivery service he could find, and when that wasn’t an option, he flew there himself, picked it up, and brought it back.

Talk about rich.

Homemade food? Good thing Osamu had drilled the basics of cooking into him, though he still got yelled at by his twin when he accidentally burned rice. But hey, effort counted, right?

Then, the cravings started getting weird.

You’re sitting on the couch with a blanket over your lap when you look up at him with serious eyes. “I want Osamu’s cooking.”

Atsumu blinked. “Alright, I can ask him—”

“But I don’t want to eat it. You eat it.”

He frowned, confused.

“Huh? Ya want me to eat ‘Samu’s cookin’?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Atsumu scratched his head, wondering if this was some kind of test. “And that’s gonna make ya feel better?”

“Yes.”

“… Even if ya don’ eat it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Atsumu blinked. “That doesn’t make no sense.”

“Atsumu, please don’t question me.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Osamu. “Oi, ‘Samu, I need ya to cook somethin’—no, not for [Name]—for me.” There was silence on the other end before Osamu sighed heavily and reluctantly agreed.

That night, Atsumu sat at the dining table, stuffing his face with his brother’s food while you sat across from him, smiling in satisfaction as you watched. Osamu just did his part as a supportive brother for his twin.

The next day was even worse.

“A seedless mango,” you murmured, rubbing your belly.

...

“A what?”

“A seedless mango. I want it.”

“… [Name], sweetheart, baby, I love ya, but that don’t exist.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I want it.”

Atsumu groaned. “Where am I gonna get a seedless mango?”

“Figure it out, please?”

He spent hours searching online, calling fruit vendors, and even asking Osamu if his suppliers had some secret black market seedless mango (Osamu asked him if a volleyball that was going 120 km/h hit his head).

No luck.

In the end, Atsumu cut up a normal mango, carefully removed every trace of the seed, and handed it to you with a hopeful grin.

You took one look at it and frowned.

“It’s not the same.”

Atsumu wanted to cry.

-

“I need you to wear a face mask.”

Atsumu blinked at you from your bed. “Huh? Why?”

You huffed quietly, fidgeting with the sheets. “Because your face is annoying.”

Atsumu gasped, hand clutching his chest. “My face?! The one ya love so much?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya vowed to look at forever in sickness and in health?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya called ‘beautiful’ when I asked ya if I was hotter than ‘Samu?!”

“I love you, but right now, your face is irritating me.”

Atsumu stared, utterly betrayed, before sighing in defeat. He got up, went to the closet, grabbed one of the disposable masks he’d bought during flu season, and put it on.

“There. Happy now?”

You smiled sweetly. “Very.”

Atsumu flopped onto the bed with a groan, pulling the blanket over himself. As he lay there, sulking, you scooted closer and rested your head on his chest.

“I love you, you know that?” you murmured.

He grumbled. “Ya sure? Feels like ya hate me sometimes.”

You chuckled. “No, I love you. My hormones just don’t.”

He sighed. “Yer so lucky I love ya more than life.”

“I know. Pregnancy is so weird.”

And the worst has yet to come.

-

Atsumu should be asleep by now, but no, he had to be individually popping popcorn. One kernel at a time, as per your request.

He initially told you, “Yer kiddin’.”

You were not.

And that was how Atsumu found himself in the kitchen at three in the morning, painstakingly popping one kernel at a time in a tiny pan. Every time he accidentally popped more than one, you, who were sitting on a stool with your hands on your belly, would click your tongue disapprovingly.

“You put in two, Atsumu.”

“This is torture,” he grumbled, but he kept going.

-

“I want ice cream,” you said.

Atsumu perked up. “Oh, easy. What flavor?”

“I don’t know.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Uh… okay. I can get a few different kinds?”

“I need to taste them all.”

Atsumu frowned. “Like… all the flavors?”

“Yes.”

“… Babe, there are like fifty flavors at the ice cream shop.”

You nodded. “And I need to taste all of them before I decide which one I want.”

Atsumu let out a long, suffering sigh, but being the devoted husband he was, he marched straight to the ice cream parlor and ordered a ridiculous amount of sample cups. The poor employee stared at him in disbelief.

“You… want every flavor?”

“Yeah.”

“Every single one?”

“Yeah.”

“Sir, that’s—”

“My wife is pregnant, and if I don’t do this, I might not make it to the end of the week.”

The employee, upon hearing this, immediately started getting to work.

When Atsumu got home, you took one spoonful of each, nodded, and, after going through every single cup, announced:

“I don’t want ice cream anymore.”

Atsumu fell to his knees. Defeated.

-

“I need you to stand in the corner for a while.”

Atsumu looked up from his phone, confused. “Huh?”

“The corner. Stand there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like you should.”

Atsumu squinted. “Babe, are ya makin’ me into a damn decoration?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Atsumu sighed but did it anyway. He stood in the corner of your living room for a full ten minutes while you sat on the couch, happily watching TV. At some point, Osamu FaceTimed him, took one look at the scene, and hung up.

-

The next day, you called him while he was at practice, which was rare in itself because you did just leave messages whenever you knew he was practicing.

“Babe,” you said in a tone that made his stomach drop.

“… Yeah?”

“I need you to bring me a cheeseburger.”

He let out a relieved laugh, wiping the sweat off his brow. “That’s easy! I’ll grab ya one on my way ho—“

“But replace the buns with pancakes.”

Atsumu froze. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“I dunno if I did, sweetheart.”

“Pancakes. Instead of buns. Oh, and I want honey to go with it.”

Atsumu nearly dropped his phone.

“Yer messin’ with me.”

“I’m really not.”

And you weren’t. That evening, he stood in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with the precision of a professional chef before assembling the most unholy creation he’d ever laid eyes on—a cheeseburger with pancake buns, honey drizzled over the meat.

You took a bite and hummed softly. “Oh my god, this is better than sex.”

Atsumu, who had spent hours perfecting his technique in the bedroom, felt personally offended by that.

-

“Atsumu,” you murmur. “I need you to switch sides of the bed with me.”

He sighed. “No.”

“Atsumu.”

“[Name], baby, darlin’—I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my side is closer to the door in case of an intruder.”

You chuckled quietly. “Tsumu, please. I need to sleep on that side.”

Atsumu stared at you, conflicted. He had never—not once—slept on the other side. It was unnatural. Wrong. It went against the very foundations of your marriage.

But you were looking at him with those tired, hormonal, pleading eyes. And he was sure you’d tell him you could barely see your feet now and often experience heartburn, all because of his unborn baby.

With a heavy sigh, Atsumu switched sides with you.

“You’re a good husband,” you whispered, patting his cheek.

Atsumu, lying in the unfamiliar position, staring at the wrong wall, whispered, “I’m a broken man.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Eddie Munson loves cellulite.

One day you’re vocal about your insecurity, smoothing on your creams and huffing when you feel like they’re just not working. He asks what you’re so pouty about, when you point to ridges and bumps that had become apart of your body.

“That?” He asks, head tilted in confusion. “That’s what you’re trying to get rid of? Baby, I don’t think so.”

It’s sudden when he kneels behind you in front of the mirror, grabbing onto your hips and pulling you closer to rub his big strong hands up and down your ass and thighs, squeezing at the delicious soft fat he was absolutely convinced was there just for him.

“Oh honey. It appears i’m gonna have to do a better job of lovin’ on you, because I fuckin’ adore this stuff. Selenite, you said?”

“Cellulite,” you correct him with a shy giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s called. Baby- it just makes me wanna devour you even more, do you not see that?”

“I don’t know I just- thought I’d look better if I-”

“Stop.” He interrupts you softly.

He stands, placing a hand to your shoulder before pulling back your hair and pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.

“Go lay down for me, angel. Some things I need to show you.”