Boyfriend!Sukuna had some odd habits, you were bound to find out about them after moving in together. They’re not deal breakers, of course, just… odd.

To be completely honest, you don’t even notice them at first. A lot of the times, they’re things you don’t remember until hours, or even days later. But there was one thing that made you stop in your tracks, questioning if the sight before you was even real.

What was nice about sharing a home with him was that he clean. Maybe even cleaner than you. Wiping the sink down after using it. Putting things back where they belonged almost mindlessly. If the laundry basket was full, he’d load up the washer without a second thought. No questions asked. No complaints made.

You loved that about him. You also loved watching him at times. It’s been a couple months since you’ve moved in, but watching him act so domestic never fails to move you in a way. There was something so sweet about knowing that making room for you in his life was never a difficult task.

So when you watch him separate the clothing in the basket, loading the colored items first, there’s a subtle smile on your face.

Until you catch him sniffing your panties.

The way he’s so casual with it, too. It makes you think he doesn’t even realize that he’s taking his time to smell them either— lace pressed right up against his nostrils.

You really shouldn’t be surprised, he’s always been kinda nasty like that. Hell, he told you to spit in his mouth the other day when you were riding him on the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask, more perplexed than anything.

“What?” He stills, your black lace panties still held against his skin. At first, he looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But being the man he is, he smiles, and turns it around on you. “Is there something wrong with sniffin’ my girls panties now?”

“What? No? I never said that,” you say, erupting into laughter.

“You didn’t have to. Look at the face you’re making right now, you’re looking at me like I’m some fuckin’ freak,” he argues, feigning offense with the little pout slowly growing on his face.

“I’m not!”

“Yeah, right,” he grumbles, tossing the thin material into the washer. "You should be thanking me for washing your clothes right now, not kink shaming me for something everyone does."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone," he continues to double down. "Unless you're some weirdo that doesn't like the way your girl smells."

"I see," you continue to fight a smile. "Glad to know you're enjoying yourself right now."

"I am," he scoffs, plucking another pair from the pile, enjoying the way your face drops from what he says next. "Now fuck off— it's not fun when you're around and judging me for something I caught you doing last week. Yeah. You're not slick, sweetheart— get your filthy ass the fuck out of here."

notes: clock her shit