fluff and suggestive - husband!choso begging for more children
you're standing at the kitchen counter in an oversized tee and no bra. hair in a claw clip. eating mini m&ms straight out of the bag like your life depends on it.
there are crayons on the floor. baby puree on the fridge. someone’s juice box is leaking.
somewhere in the house, one of your kids is yelling “i didn’t DO it!!” which means they definitely did it.
choso walks in behind you. wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck.
you don’t even flinch. you’re too tired.
he mumbles, “i didn’t say anything.”
he rubs slow circles over your hips. “just one more.”
you spin around and give him a look.
“choso. we have eight! that’s not a family. that’s a whole clan. borderline cult. we don’t need more.”
he blinks at you. so earnest. so endearing.
“but you’re so good at being a mother.”
he continues. “you carry them so well. you glow. and you’re so pretty when you're round. all soft and warm and- ”
you slap a hand over his mouth. choso's eyes are twinkling. you swear you could see orion's belt in them.
“no, we are done,” you warn.
you yank your hand back with a shriek. “choso!”
he shrugs. like this is a perfectly reasonable conversation to be having while your 8 monsters children are currently going wild, due to the lack of parental supervision for just a few seonds.
“just one. a tiny one. a little bonus baby. we’ll name her star. or emerald. or-“
“you carry the next one if you want it so bad,” you point a finger in his face. “i’m done. finito. my uterus is retired. officially. she’s on a beach somewhere with a cocktail.”
he just nods. still doing his puppy dog smile.
“okay. but what if we just practice.”
he kisses your cheek. then your jaw. then down your neck.
“no pressure. just me and you and twenty minutes while they’re watching bluey or mucking around.”
you hate how good he smells. hate how easy it is to melt into his hands. hate that he’s already walking you backwards toward the hallway like he doesn’t already have a whole soccer team with your face and his hair.
“fine! we can practice for now. but if i get pregnant again-“
“you won’t.” he kisses your forehead. “unless your body wants to.”
he catches your hand. kisses your knuckles.
“i just love you, y’know? and all our babies. and the idea of making another one with you kinda makes me wanna lose my mind a little.”
he’s serious. soft eyes. pink cheeks. hopelessly in love.
you grumble. “…we’re not naming her star.”
his whole face lights up as you drag him to the bedroom.
A/N: GUYS I'M SORRY I TRIED! i had finished this ages ago i was just TOO NERVY
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