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*GIF not mine*
Summary: You should never leave Hinata alone with the responsibility of the chores in the house. Especially when your next-door neighbor is a dick.
A/N: Fuck shitty wifi, fuck fuck fuckkkkkk. Like seriously, someone please tell me I’m not the only one struggling with editing the fucking tags on posts, pleaseeee. Anyways, I was desperate for an idea, and I didn’t like this one at first, but I swear it’s good. Enjoy!
Word count: 944
Ah, home sweet home. You were back from a business trip that required you to leave home for a week. Yes, it was only seven days, but a week of your husband home alone without supervision was seven days too many. Although, when you arrived back at your house and saw it wasn’t burned down, you were relieved to know you were worried for nothing.
“Shoyo, I’m back!” You closed the front door and kicked off your shoes, only to crash into the wall behind you from the force of a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re home, YN! I missed you so much!” His voice wavered with excitement as he smiled into your collarbone.
“I missed you too.” You pull away and smile at him brightly, giving a small peck to his lips. He whines at its duration before pouting.
“YN, I need cuddles, it’s been too long.” Shoyo snatches your arm and leads you toward the bedroom, only to groan when you wriggle out of his grip.
“I know, I know,” you laugh, “but I’m thirsty. I’ll just get a drink real quick then I’ll join you.” His reaction worries you.
“No!” he shouts anxiously, brown eyes wider than dinner plates.
“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows furrow in utter confusion.
“I’ll get it for you! You just go up to the room, I’m sure you’re tired!” He nods his head affirmatively at his own statement and places his hands on your shoulders, driving you towards your shared room. You plant your feet and stop his movements, all while giggling at his abnormal actions.
“Shoyo, don’t worry. I’m not that worn out.” You step into the kitchen while your husband seems to choke on air behind you. “Trust me, I’m awake enough to get myself a glass of water.” He stays suspiciously silent behind you while you peer into the empty sink on your way to the cupboards.
“Aww, babe, thanks for doing the dishes before I came home!”
“Yeah sure, of course.” His voice is higher than normal, but you don’t mention it. Looking into the cupboards, you’re puzzled to find them completely empty.
“They’re in the washer.”
“Oh.” You step over to said appliance. “Well, just so you know in case I have to leave again, you can’t put too many dishes in here, otherwise it’ll-”
Suds. Everywhere. The opening was overflowing with blue and white bubbles as soon as you pulled on the handle, and now your kitchen floor was soaked and stunk of bittersweet dish soap. Your lips draw into a firm line and you turn around to look at your ashamed husband, who avoids your gaze and rocks back and forth on his heels. He’s innocently whistling a tune with his hands held behind his back. Wonderful.
“It’ll do that,” you finish, chest tight with stifled frustration. Shoyo halts his actions and stares at you with shame.
“Should I-”
“Yeah, mop’s in the closet.” You nod your head towards the hallway. He follows your orders, until….
“On the left,” you remind him impatiently. Your jaw aches from the constant clench.
“Right, right.”
Your mouth is still dry as a desert and you peer into the leaking dishwasher for any usable cup, only to smack your palm against your forehead at the sight.
“Shoyo, is this the laundry?”
“Umm, sort of?”
“Sort of?” You reach in and retrieve his favorite shorts, waving them around in his face with a raised brow.
“Yes.” You huff and toss the clothing at him before rubbing your temples. A terrible, awful idea decides to smack you in the face at that moment, causing you to pause and slowly glance up at your husband. The veins in your forehead are having a field day while the rest of your body remains still.
“Honey, if these are our clothes, where are our dishes?” Your voice is soft and patient. It’s a lure, and he knows it.
“W-well, they’re not in the clothes’ washer if that’s what you’re asking!” Shoyo laughs uproariously and you sigh in relief.
“Thank God,” you giggle softly, “‘cause for a second there I was like ‘Please tell me I didn’t marry an idiot.’” After you give him a small smile, your husband’s eyes widen and he squeaks out an “mhm!”
You shake your head with a relieved chuckle and give him a small peck on the cheek.
“I’m just gonna go hang up my coat, I’ll be right back.”
“O-okay.” He dashes into the kitchen with his requested mop and you make your way into the laundry room, dropping your jacket on the coat rack.
Clink clink.
What.
The smile falls off your face instantly. Your eyes squint, and you’re not exactly sure what you’re hearing, but you know for a fact you don’t like it.
Clink clink.
Oh God, please don’t tell me. Your shoulders tense as you step closer to your dryer, pausing the machine and whipping it open with tightly-shut eyes. The clanging has stopped, so you hesitantly take a peek.
“Shoyo!”
Silence.
“Shoyo Hinata, why the fuck are there glass shards in the dryer?!”
Your house rattles with the force of a slammed front door. Son of a bitch.
Distantly, you hear a muffled, panicked shout from your husband followed by the devious cackles of your neighbor.
“Kageyama, you lying bastard! You told me the dishes needed to dry!”