florisque

Rafayel, Caleb, Valko (separate)

ᢉ𐭩 ᩚ Rafayel

“I’m gonna go shower.” Rafayel nodded in acknowledgment. He seemed to be focused on his painting.

You turned on the faucet and began undressing, when you hear the door open. Rafayel enters and leans against the sink, innocently looking at you.

“Raf why are you here?”

“I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“No you aren’t you perv.”

“What if you drown!? I can save you.”

“I won’t in the shower!”

ᢉ𐭩 ᩚ Caleb

You and Caleb were cuddling in bed. He had fallen asleep. You slowly got out of bed and quietly walked to the bathroom. Caleb immediately sensed your absence and woke up, following you.

You blocked the bathroom door with your body. “Caleb go back to sleep I’m just going to shower.”

“But we always shower together.” He looked at you with his signature sad puppy eyes. “You like me helping you.”

“You’ve been working so much. I rather you get some sleep. I’m a grown adult I’m perfectly capable of showering on my own.” You close the bathroom door on him but, he forces it open with his evol. Then you feel the familiar sensation of his evol wrap around you. You couldn’t move your body.

“What happened pips? Why aren’t you moving anymore? I guess you do need my help.”

ᢉ𐭩 ᩚ Valko

Valko had come over to your apartment to work. He likes it there since everything smelled like you. It made him feel safe and comfortable. You set down a plate of brownies beside him as he continued to type away on his laptop.

“I’ll be right back I’m gonna take a shower.” He replies with an okay and a smile showing off his fangs.

You had just started showering when you notice a large shadow behind the curtain. You peek your head out to see Valko looking at you.

“Val what are you doing?”

“I’m keeping guard.” He gave you a neutral expression but his tail was wagging.

“Then shouldn’t you be facing the door and not me.”

“My senses are really good. I’ll be able to notice them from behind me.”

bf!sukuna x his pathological liar girlfriend

“you don’t even notice anything about me anymore”

you’re currently sitting on his lap, facing the brute and twirling a strand of your hair around your manicured finger.

sukuna licks his bottom lip, his hands suddenly clammy on their resting spot.

“you dyed one strand of your hair a shade darker” he notes, tapping a steady rhythm on your waist.

“so you did notice,” you narrow your eyes at him.

sukuna already knows that look.

it’s the same look you had before accusing him of ‘emotionally unfollowing’ you because he used a period at the end of a text.

he should stop this now.

instead, stupidly, he hums “yup, noticed it this morning” he actually didn’t notice anything, but he couldn’t lose.

you go quiet for a second. silently, you rub his shoulder noting the sheer amount of muscle under your grip while deep in thought.

“hmm, interesting”

there it is.

sukuna’s grip on your waist tightens instinctively,“what’s interesting?”

you study him carefully like you’re piecing together evidence in a case.

“nothing,” you say softly.

“just weird that you noticed that when it was a complete lie” your boyfriend’s jaw drops open, “but not the other thing” you pout.

sukuna is…clingy?

you trudge in through the hallway, kicking off your heels after a night out. as the designated driver you hadn’t drunk at all leaving your exhaustion un-numbed by any hypnotic.

turning around mindlessly you crash into a wall.

the wall being well your boyfriend’s pecs. tattooed arms wrap around you, his chin coming to rest on your head.

“took you long enough” sukuna grumbles rubbing your side.

you lift your shoulders, shrugging “girls night”. you thought that to be self-explanatory. moving away from his arms you walk towards your room followed by sukuna’s sulky presence.

“kept me waiting all damn night” he huffs sounding almost whiny. almost.

you start to take off your earrings slowly slotting them aside as sukuna watches highly impatient, you pull your hair out of your bun and take your bag off your shoulder.

then you take things out of your bag, lipgloss, lip-liner, digi-cam and your phone putting it on charge. again, although his jaw ticks sukuna lets you take your time, knowing how important it was for you to put everything away properly.

his patience is cut short when you start to meticulously comb out and oil your hair.

seriously? did every damn thing need to happen now? he wondered.

you take off your makeup dutifully double cleansing for good measure and finally finally you decide to change into something comfy.

sukuna eagerly watches you take off your dress, bra slinging right off, and panties discarded.

oh sweet sweet reward.

you pull one of his shirts on, ready for bed.

“that took all fucking day” he throws you over his shoulder carrying you to bed.

landing softly on the mattress you rise up on your knees pulling him down by his collar and give him a quick peck.

“sorry kuna, for making you wait”

well, that’s enough for him, he’s a goner.

bf!sukuna : when you flinch

to say that this isn’t how you thought this evening would go would be an understatement.

at some point you’d heard the doorbell ring, your light steps padded towards the sound, hoping to welcome your lover in.

he’d texted you that he would be late today. which was always code for him being overworked to the bone.

you wished to relieve him of his stress as soon as possible hence your hurried footsteps.

the door clicks open once you’ve unlocked it, a rough hand grabbing onto its hinge on the other side.

sukuna trudges in, pink hair all mussed as if out of frustration and shoulders drooped from weariness.

“bad day?” you ask. your question letting up no response.

understanding you slowly nod to yourself, better not to converse, you decide on soothing through your touch.

you help sukuna take off his jacket, hanging it up. afterwards your hands move to his upper arm trying to massage out some stress.

he shrugs you off.

your hands linger, surprised, you look up at him observing his expression. he doesn’t make eye contact.

faltering you step away, eyes darting, wanting to help but not knowing what to do, you watch as he takes his shoes off.

for some reason this whole ordeal had bloomed a certain anxiety inside of you, one you hadn’t felt in a while.

a certain urge to please.

grasping for straws you try to lighten up the mood “well no need to be so lovely” you joke, hiding behind sarcasm.

“WILL YOU STOP” sukuna says his tone harsh and much louder than necessary.

it isn’t anything you expected and unknowingly you flinch away your hands coming up to protect yourself.

the air is charged, his heavy breaths following.

his eyes narrow at your expression and the implication behind your physical reaction.

and then something breaks.

when you both realize what you’d thought would happen.

you thought he’d hurt you. well you didn’t, not at all, it’s just how your body chose to react.

a protective mechanism.

you breathe hard, feeling a sting behind your eyes causing you to blink faster, trying not to let your hurt slip.

“baby..” his voice comes a mere whisper, a sharp contrast to his earlier statement.

“i didn’t mean that” he breathes out in a rush his hands reaching out for you, but you’d already turned away.

sukuna’s mind races, he feels a certain dread as his hands curl back returning empty.

fuck.

husband!sukuna: argument

a nightmare. a loss.

sukuna wakes in panic on the couch.

the low murmur of the tv channel drones into his ear as he wipes perspiration off of his forehead.

just a dream..

turning off the tv, now left with a silent room he stands up.

the clock hand rests at 2 in the morning.

you’re asleep in your room.

he hates that you both fell asleep after a fight.

a wince ricochets through him at the memory.

“you never listen” you’d said at some point frustrated, voice rising.

he’d come home from work injured again. you’d screamed at him worried sick that he could’ve died.

“i’m here now aren’t i?” he’d shrugged smug, not understanding the weight of the situation.

he’d asked you to explain, failing to understand.

“you don’t give weight to my words, they seem to fly over you”

“what are you implying?”

you paused, the words breaking through,

“that i don’t matter to you”

Six foot four of raw muscle and barely contained violence, his black fitted shirt strained against broad shoulders. Scarred knuckles told stories of shattered jaws and walls alike. The tattoos that snake up his arms and across his face, ancient markings that ward away anyone foolish enough to cross him. Three prison stints. Fourteen confirmed hospitalizations of those who dared cross his path. And whispers… dark, unsettling rumors, of bodies that were never found.

But, cradled against his chest -those same hands that have crushed windpipes- holds his little girl, five years old with eyes just like his. She clutches her plastic watering can painted with daisies, her other hand firmly gripping Sukuna’s shirt like she’s taming a beast. 

"Down Papa! My flowers are thirsty!!" she demands, completely unfazed by her father whose mere presence makes grown men piss themselves…

"Tch. Such a brat, just like your mother." Sukuna growls, the same tone that makes  other parents clutch their kids a little tighter when he walks by, but the girl laughs and squeals with delight as he swings her around and sets her down.

The other parents keep their distance, their fear of Sukuna quite palpable, fueled by the whispers that cling to his name like a curse. But they watch- oh how they watch. Their eyes following him, as if expecting him to do something to prove the rumors true. Sukuna notices, a cruel smile splitting his face, revealing teeth, "What're you looking at?" he snarls at a gawking teenager, who stumbles backward in terror.

Their fear amuses him, but their opinions? Worthless.

He doesn’t care what they think, doesn’t care what they say.

He isn’t here for them anyway. He’s here for one reason, to make sure no one’s foolish enough to lay a hand on his little girl. If anyone dares, if anyone is stupid enough to try, they’ll see it firsthand. They’ll realize the stories don’t even scratch the surface. He’ll show them exactly why they should fear him- why calling him a monster is an insult to what he truly is.

"Papa! Look!" his little girl holds up a tiny daisy, "This one's for you! It's a gift, from me to you." She smiles at him, her eyes sparkling and full of love, as if he doesn’t scare the shit out of everyone else.

His face, usually frozen in a permanent scowl, softens imperceptibly, "Put it back in the ground, kid. Flowers need to grow..."

"Nooo," she pouts, "Mama gave me more seeds to plant and this one told me it wants to be with you!" She reaches up, impossibly small hand extended.

"Stubborn little-," he mutters as he crouches down, allowing her to tuck the flower behind his ear.

"See, now you're pretty just like the garden and mama!" She beams at him, her arms spread wide in a dramatic gesture of pride.

For a split second his eyes widen, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth. Pretty? Him? "I'm not pretty…" he growls, but doesn't remove the flower.

"You are to me," she says softly before wrapping her little arms around his neck, squeezing him tight and kissing him on his tatted cheek, "I love you, Papa."

Sukuna feels his heart skip a beat, then two, his throat tightening as the words leave his little brats lips. He can't bring himself to say it back- not here… He can't form the words he desperately wants to say…

Instead, his rough hands wrap around her, one hand on the back of her head, the other pressing her into his shoulder, "Yeah yeah…" His grip is gentle, almost tentative, like she might disappear if he squeezes too hard, "Me too…"

He feels her lips curl into a smile against him, and it's the only answer he needs. She understands, just like you do, the way he shows his love instead of saying it.

"C'mon," he ruffles her hair, "your mother will have my ass if I don't get us home." He takes her hand, fingers engulfing hers.

"Don't worry, Papa, the flowers will protect us!!"

As they walk home, her tiny hand disappearing in his massive one, Sukuna still wears the bloom behind his ear. A passing man stares a bit too long for Sukuna’s liking and receives a glare promising slow, creative violence if he doesn't look away immediately.

But his daughter just swings their joined hands, chattering about which seeds she'll plant next, completely unafraid of the monster whose reputation makes hardened criminals wake in cold sweats.

She is his one weakness, though he'd gut anyone who suggested it.

And he is her guardian- her hero, and she reminds him daily.

“you, stop . . moving,” sukuna prowls, the base of his chin sat on top of your thighs.

you were in your usual spot, waiting for him to return from whatever battle had him occupied for half the day. moments later, you’re now slouched back against sukuna’s throne with a very grumpy, pouty demon lying his head against the center of your lap. before you could even part your lips to ask him what happened this time, sukuna grumbles. “bad. very bad day, little one.”

humming, you strum a few feathery fingers toward the pink roots of his hair before softly digging a path through his tender scalp. “oh. well, wanna talk about it?”

“no,” he replies gruffly with an abrupt quickness, his pout growing the more he remembered about his day. however, as your fingers continued to comb through his silk tresses, sukuna buried his face between your thighs. “i need… to recharge.”

“most people would drink water or eat somet-”

“shut up.”

“…..”

slowly peeking from between the warmth of your glued legs, sukuna notices the pausing halt on your fingers that played with his hair and he scowls. oh, he’s pouting, and with a cute, annoyed grumble, he avoids your gaze.

“i told you to shut up, not . . to stop doing that. go on. hmph.”

whaaokayokayyeayeayea!!!

he actually got his scar from a dirty fight. first he’s stepping into the ring, riled up and bouncing on his toes, next thing he knows a brass knuckle is flying into his face, splitting his lip right open! he’s lucky it was just that, though. he even denies the default win, finds it more thrilling to beat the guy to a pulp and actually win on his own terms. there’s a viral clip of him smiling with blood running down his face, probably what made him so popular in the first place.

he prefers practicing on his own, he has a small gym in his basement that he basically abuses, it’s hard to see him without hand wraps around his knuckles.

that being said, his big hands are rough. not just cause of his constant manhandling, the skin there is pretty rough because of so many injuries! He’s a very touchy guy, used to using his hands (obviously), so when he’s with his boyfriend his hands are never to himself. if he’s walking by he’s sliding his hand across the small of your back, if he’s off to leave he’s caressing your cheeks with the rough pad of his thumb n telling you to lock the door behind him. if you’re in his way he’s grabbing you by the waist or shoulders and moving you to the side. he knows he can just ask you to move but that’s no fun

do not go to his matches. don’t do it!!! he’s usually a very collected man, always able to keep his composure and stick to the task at hand. but if you’re in the crowd, even if he can’t see you, he’s more jittery than usual. and also such a show off, his performance magically becomes more flashy if you’re there to watch. also the adrenaline gives him a boner every time. do with that information what you will!

he has a raging size kink. it’s so bad. doesn’t have to be a height difference. could be hand sizes, dick sizes, thigh sizes. anything. as long as his shirts have at least an inch or two on you, he’s sold. all rationality leaves his brain when you’re wearing his clothes, just straight up overrun with the desire to pound you full of cum.

spanking is a death wish. he knows his strength, knows how to use it, and especially knows how to shut you up. don’t even think for a second you’ll be able to walk or sit down for the next few days. luckily for you, though, he’ll be there to dote on you!

his favorite positions are anything that displays his strength! full nelsons, mating presses. against the wall, standing missionary. anything that has him lifting you up n using you like a fleshlight. he also loves play fighting! just don’t get him too excited or he’ll end up pinning you down for longer than two seconds. his favorite is when he has you propped face down ass up, thrusting into you from behind with one foot using your head to keep him propped up. he likes seeing you helpless!

his dick is just as big n thick as he is, the head is pinkish-brown (like his nipples), with a vein that disappears into his base and streams along his shaft. despite his straight hair, his pubes are kinda wavy! smells warm too, you could probably fall asleep warming his dick (he would slap you awake with it though) ):<

he usually gets home pretty late. he meal preps but sneaks in homemade stuff if you make it. might sound a little disconnected from each other, but if he comes home late to find you’ve made something for him he’s marching straight into the bedroom spreading your legs as thanks, making you suck on his thick fingers even if you’re still groggy.

Boxer!Toji Fushiguro loved when people did things for him.

He loved when fans gave him gifts. He loved getting gifts during holidays. And he especially loved getting free samples from food establishments—he thinks the samples were deliberately put out for his enjoyment.

"How did you know I love raspberries?" Toji would smirk, winking at the innocent cafe worker before grabbing one three more samples and walking away.

But Boxer!Toji Fushiguro did not like doing things for other people. The only people he's ever willingly helped in his life was his mother, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Doing things for people meant you were below them and they were above you and that was not Toji's way of life.

Doing things for people showed you cared—which shows vulnerability which then gives the other person the impression that you like them and Toji does not like people.

Especially if he's not getting anything out of it.

So why, you ask, was Boxer!Toji Fushiguro following you around Tokyo, carrying your shopping bags as you shopped to your hearts desire?

On his card, of course.

thinking about boxer!toji who is your loving boyfriend of 2 years. you’ve been dating since the first year of his boxing career and he’s been treating you like an absolute princess.

boxer!toji who you can’t help but gush at whenever you watch his matches. god.. his back, the way his shoulders firm and his big arms swing. how his biceps have silly bite marks you gave him last night—you could just eat him up.

boxer!toji who usually comes home late all bruised and bloody. however, a sigh of relief comes out of you as you look up to see the huge grin on his face, holding up his winning trophy.

boxer!toji whose abs are so toned you could practically crack nuts on them. like, seriously. after you showered you swore you could see your reflection on them.

boxer!toji who really cannot get off his beautiful girlfriend. literally. his hands are always on you. when in public, his hand is always on your lower back. in private, he’s cuddling you like there’s no tomorrow. hands all over your hips, taking in your scent and kissing you everywhere.

boxer!toji who looks for you in the crowd when he wins, kissing the medal and winking at you.

boxer!toji who is.. quite famous. he has no intent on getting on social media, but his inbox is bombarded with tiktok edits of him that you sent. you giggle and kick your feet whilst the said “Sexiest Boxer Alive” gets out of the shower drying his hair. he has never seen the appeal, but he might just get social media to brag about you.

boxer!toji who asks you to help him with his exercising routine, getting you to sit on his back when he does pushups. it’s quite impressive, really. how is he able to do pushups with you on his back, and with one arm?!

boxer!toji who never thought he’d want to settle down, but ever since he laid eyes on that cute news reporter (you), he has never wanted anything more in his life.

"and your winner.."

The referee grips his wrist, lifting his arm proudly while the arena erupts into cheers. Fans going absolutely wild chanting his name. Commentators are yelling over one another. "What a performance from Itadori, Yuji!" 

Flashes from the cameras are all going off at once. Yuji raises his other hand as an attempt to cover his eyes. Despite all the noise he could barely hear them. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Blood trickles from a cut over his eyebrow. Sweat drips from his chin. He should be celebrating like everyone else, instead his eyes are scanning the crowd. 

For you.

Unbeknownst to him, you were already making your way towards him. You are so proud of him, tears threatening to fall from those very eyes he adores so much. Training for months, just for this moment. Yet all he wanted was you sharing it with him.

The moment feels surreal. People are shouting, the lights blaring so hard they almost drown out everything else. Reporters are already climbing onto the apron, cameras pointed directly at Yuji as photographers scramble for the perfect championship shot.

But he isn't looking at any of them. His eyes keep searching. Where are you?

His coach pats his shoulder, the referee shouting something he can't make out over the deafening cheers. The championship belt is draped over him, heavy against his shoulders, but he barely notices it.

Then—

He sees you.

You're pushing your way through the crowd, tears already spilling down your cheeks. His expression changes immediately. His entire face lights up like he had won all over again.

Your eyes meet his and you spot that ridiculous grin, it's contagious. You smile back. Without another thought, he hops down from the ring.

Security immediately rushes over. "Yuji! This way—the interviews—"

"S-Sorry!" he calls over his shoulder, weaving around them. "Just one second!"

You barely have time to wipe your eyes before he's made it to you. You take in all of him standing before you. His ruffled up rosy hair, the sweat dripping from his head, the cut from his eyebrow that's still bleeding. God he looks hot.

You reach up instinctively, cupping his face as gently as if he were made of glass. "You did it," you whisper, your voice trembling.

"I did," he says with a breathless laugh.

Your thumb brushes carefully beneath his eye, avoiding the fresh cut. You analyze his pretty face. His puppy brown eyes staring back at you. "I'm so proud of you." you say gently.

His smile falters for just a second, not because he's upset. Because hearing those words from you means more than the roaring crowd ever could. He leans into your hand. His own raising to cup yours. "I kept looking for you," he admits quietly.

"I know."

"I couldn't find you."

"I was coming to you." you explained with a playful tone.

His eyes soften. "Oh."  A small laugh escapes from him "Guess we had the same idea."

The cameras finally catch up, surrounding the two of you. Yuji immediately steps in front of you, separating you from the chaos. The sudden flashes and shouting voices overwhelm the quiet moment you had shared.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You can see the worry in his expression, the way he keeps glancing back at you to make sure you’re okay despite everything happening around him. A small smile forms on your face, touched by how naturally he puts you first.

You smile softly and reach for his hand. "Go."

He looks back, a bit shocked. "What..no. Just ignore them, baby." He whines.

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand for a second, "We'll celebrate later. Together." You smile, looking down at your hands, letting go.

Yuji's eyes follow yours down to your hands as your fingers slowly slip from his. He doesn't move and he doesn't want to. His thumb brushes against yours one last time before you let go completely.

"...Promise?" he asks quietly.

You look back up at him. "I promise."

His shoulders relax just enough. He nods slightly satisfied.

You reach up, gently brushing a stray pink strand away from his forehead, careful not to touch the fresh cut above his eyebrow. "And after they're done..." You lean in just enough that only he can hear. "...You're all mine."

His ears instantly turn bright red. "...B-Baby..."

You smirked to yourself, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at the sight before you. Yuji remained rooted to the spot, cheeks burning as he tried—and completely failed—to recover from your teasing. His mouth opened slightly as if to say something, only for no words to come out.

You gave him one last warm smile before taking a slow step backward. "Don't keep them waiting, Yu."

You turned on your heel, your figure disappearing into the crowd of people as you made your way toward the quieter hallway beyond the arena. You knew he'd find you the moment the interviews were over. 

Yuji stood there for another heartbeat, completely frozen. "...Fuck." he mumbled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a helpless grin.

"ITADORI!" his coach barked.

Yuji jolted. "Right! Coming!"

a little continuation of boxer!yuji 🥹 you guys gotta tell me what you guys want or gimme ideas!

this was not how you normally held tutoring sessions: legs tangled in the sheets, sweat slick between your bodies, and not a single piece of clothing on. yeah, this had to be a first.

sukuna’s face was covered in your slick, and by the looks of it, he wanted even more. he buried his face between your thighs for the nth time, and you tugged at his hair in protest.

“no! you need to answer another question first!” you said sternly. or at least, you tried to. you felt the gentle kitten licks he was leaving on your cunt and you folded at his touch. within seconds, you forgot what you were scolding him about, and he forced your thighs apart once more. he mumbled something against your skin, before kissing your thigh.

“hit me.” he said with a smirk. he was doing this on purpose. ignoring your urges to get back on track, only entertaining them when he had you like this—melting like putty in his hands, completely out of it and with only him on your mind.

“t-the probably of the…” your mind went blank on the problem as he pressed a kiss to your pussy before diving in again. you cried his name out as he lapped at your wet folds, thighs trembling as another orgasm threatened to crash over you. he bullied your poor cunt with his tongue, grunting and groaning as if he was in your place. just as you were about to reach the edge, he pulled away and laid on his stomach before you.

“sorry you know me, i tend to get distracted easily… you were saying?” sukuna took in your current state: pupils blown wide, chest heaving, and a look of hurt and confusion crossing your cute face. he immediately felt guilty and apologized.

“i’m sorry, that was fucked up of me. do you want me to keep going?” his eyes searched yours frantically, like he was panicking.

you averted your eyes. you were torn. you needed to actually make use of this session so it wouldn’t be all for nothing…but the way he went down on you felt heavenly. he was scarily good at it, making you feel so good, reaching places you didn’t even know existed, all with just his tongue.

“no pressure, we can go back to studying too. i’m fine with whatever.” he reassured you.

maybe it was the denial of orgasm. maybe you just weren’t in the best position to be responsible right now. whatever it was, you leaned forward and pulled him closer with smile.

“one more. just one ‘kuna.” you cupped his cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. he grinned and raised an eyebrow at you.

“you wanna ask me a question first, don’t you…” he asked reluctantly, leaning into your touch. you giggled and nodded.

“mhm!” he was catching on quite fast. at this rate, he could be the tutor next…

he groaned, but the smile never left face. “alright, ask me it.”

“is weight qualitative or quantitative data?”

“obviously it’s quantitative,” it was his turn to narrow his eyes at you, “did you seriously ask me an easy one on purpose?”

“err… maybe?” you replied all innocently, already spreading your legs wider for him.

“that’s cheating.” he scoffed, but inched forward anyway.

“nuh uh! it’s not cheating if i make the rules!”

series m.list

"count to three."

"b-but it's gonna huuurt," your daughter's voice trembled as she was on the verge of tears. a string was tied around her loose tooth with the other end fixed to a doorknob; all your husband's idea, of course. you tried to hold your laughter as you stroked her hair soothingly, standing behind her.

"daddy's gonna be so quick, sweetheart," you reassured. "you won't even feel a thing." you glanced up at sukuna with a suppressed grin. "right?"

sukuna raised an eyebrow at her in a mock stern expression, though you knew he found the situation just as amusing. "you don't trust your father, kid?"

frantically shaking her head, pigtails bobbing, your daughter looked up at him with wide, watery eyes. "i do, but i'm really scared."

"just count to three," sukuna repeated calmly, his hand already on the knob. "it'll be over before you know it."

your daughter turned to you and your heart ached at her innocent, earnest face. you kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "you can close your eyes if you don't wanna look. i'm right here."

with a deep, shaky breath, the girl squeezed her eyes shut, gripped your fingers tightly and started to count very slowly.

"one... two-"

a loud slam of the door interrupted her. your daughter's eyes opened abruptly as she stared dumbly at the floor. right there, still attached to the string and hanging from the handle, was her fallen canine.

"baby, you did it!" your arms came around your daughter in a warm hug. pride filled your chest as you showered her with praise. the shock seemed to gradually wear off as she grinned back with an adorable, slightly bloody, tooth-missing smile.

"it actually came out! that was so fast, dad!" she pulled away from you to hug sukuna's thighs. "i didn't feel anything!"

huffing in amusement, sukuna picked the girl up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder, making her dangle upside down by his legs as she shrieked with joy. "that's why you gotta listen to your father, kid," sukuna walked towards you, eyes half-lidded. "your daddy's always right. just ask your mom."

"put her down, ryo," you scolded even as you couldn't keep the laughter from your voice. instead of replying, he kissed you, firm, still holding your daughter securely. you melted into it despite yourself, tugging him closer by his beater.

"eww, is dad being gross again, i can feel it," your daughter complained behind him. "let me go, i don't wanna see!"

"too damn bad," he gruffly spoke against your lips after you parted, smirking. "it's my house, i can be as gross as i like."

gagging exaggeratedly, your daughter managed to land on all fours as she pulled away from sukuna's grip. she grabbed her tooth and rushed to her room, shutting the door. you huffed and shook your head, fond, letting sukuna wrap his arms around you properly.

"brat. she learns it from you," he muttered, planting kisses on your neck. you scoffed indignantly, though it came out breathless and smiling.

"you love it," your head tilted, arching towards him, giving more room. he snorted quietly against your shoulder.

"i do. god help me, i do."

pda obsessed!choso who is always looking for an excuse to kiss you. he'll wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your shoulders, your neck, and even your arms and hands if you aren't using them. he'll do it even as you're checking out your groceries at the supermarket, ignoring the disgusted stares of the cashier and other customers.

pda obsessed!choso who will pull you to sit on his lap when you're hanging out with your group of friends. he loves to rub circles into your hips or your thighs and stare up at you while you talk to everyone else, completely enamoured by your beauty. the second you're done talking he'll lean up and shamelessly make out with you, tongue and all. he'll make out with you for as long as he likes and doesn't care that he's pulled you out of an active conversation.

pda obsessed!choso who walks with his hand in the back pocket of your jeans because he loves the feeling of your ass rubbing against his hand. he doesn't take his hand away even when you stop walking and stand still to check your phone and instead gropes and squeezes your butt with both hands. you try and push him away out of embarassment but his grip is too strong so you just let him squeeze to his hearts content.

pda obsessed!choso puts his arms around your shoulders and gropes your tits while you wait in queues. he does it so often that you hardly even notice when he slides his hands into your bra and starts squeezing. it's only when he begins rolling your nipple between his fingers that you squeal and slap his hand away, and he switches to kissing your exposed skin instead.

pda obssesed!choso just wants to touch you constantly. whether it be holding your hand, petting your head or groping you, he's happy as long as his hands are on you.

pervy best friend!choso who thinks you're his lucky charm and wants you to sit in his lap while he plays video games. while you're perched on his thighs with his arms on either side of you, he kisses your neck and nibbles on your ear as his fingers fiddle with his controller. when he wins a game he'll turn your face towards him and give you a peck on the lips, calling it a 'celebratory kiss'.

pervy bestfriend!choso who insists on coming with you whenever you want to buy lingerie - a second opinion is always useful right? he'll pick out a set in your favourite colour and wait for you outside the dressing room. once you're out, you give him a quick twirl bending down and shaking your ass a little. he'll come up behind you to help you 'adjust your bra strap', but really it's to feel your plush ass against his dick. you know exactly what he's doing and push back against him, grinding softly against his growing erection. when he coughs out a groan, you feign innocence, asking him sweetly if he's okay.

pervy bestfriend!choso who takes advantage of the fact that you become extremely affectionate when you're sleepy. whenever you go over to his place and end up sleeping over, you cuddle him tightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and throwing one of your legs over his own. choso feels his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers as you wiggle against him in an atempt to get comfortable, feeling your tits pressed against his arm and the warmth of your pussy against his thigh.

pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe his luck when he looks over too see that the strap of your tank top has fallen all the way down and exposed your bare breasts. He stares as your tits rise and fall as you breathe, basically inviting him to suck on them. He leans down to watch your nipples harden and his mouth is on them in seconds. I mean, how could he possibly resist? Choso's eyes are half-lidded as he swirls his tongue around your bud, his spit coating every inch of your nipple.

pervy bestfriend!choso who is too focused on your chest to notice that you've been awake the whole time, watching him groan as he sucks your nipple passionately. Choso only realises you're awake when your hand travels to his hair and you start running your fingers through his thick strands.

pervy bestfriend!choso whose face is flushed in embarassment as he tries to explain why he was latched to your nipple just seconds ago but immediately shuts up when he feels your hand start to caress his bulge.

gym rat gf! maki’s dragged you to the gym with her every single morning since you moved in together. it doesn’t matter if you’re dead tired, every morning starts the same way — with her nudging your shoulder, tugging the blankets off you, and pressing kisses against your cheek until you finally crack an eye open.

gym rat gf! maki lets you pick out all of her workout clothes. she’ll stand there while you hold up different sports bras and shorts, pretending she couldn’t care less about your opinion. but somehow, she always ends up wearing the set you said looked best on her.

gym rat gf! maki has somehow managed to turn you into part of her workout routine. she’ll pat the mat behind her for you to sit on while she stretches, drape your legs across her lap during her cooldown, or have you climb onto her back so she can knock out a set of push-ups, acting like you don’t weigh a thing.

gym rat gf! maki hovers just enough to make sure you’re working out safely without ever making you feel incapable. she adjusts your form with a hand on your waist, steadies the bar before you even realize you need help, wipes down your bench before you can reach for the towel. and if anyone stares a little too long while you’re figuring out a machine ? one look from her is enough to send them somewhere else.

gym rat gf! maki insists your recovery is just as important as the workout itself and gives you “massages” after every workout together. they’re always wayyy too deep, bordering on painful, and she’ll be digging into a knot in your shoulder while saying, “see ? this is why you need to stretch more,” completely unfazed by your pitiful whimpers.

gym rat gf! maki refuses to let you carry anything. groceries ? she’s already holding every single bag. heavy boxes ? moved before you even notice them. furniture ? don’t even think about touching it. the second you reach down to help, she gives you a look like you’ve personally insulted her. “i’ve got it,” she says, matter-of-fact, taking whatever’s in your hands before you can argue. at this point, you’re convinced the heaviest thing you’ve carried since you started dating is a gallon of milk.

gym rat gf! maki uses everything she knows about nutrition to cook for you. protein pancakes, high-protein pasta, healthy homemade snacks. she’ll never admit it outright, but she loves watching you enjoy something she made with her own two hands.

gym rat gf! maki’s cheat days are never really about the food — they’re always about you. she lets you drag her wherever you want, lets you steal fries off her plate even though you ordered your own, and caves instantly when you insist on sharing dessert. she swears she doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but she never turns down a bite if you’re the one offering it to her.

gym rat gf! maki gets really clingy after dragging you through a particularly brutal workout. curled up beside you in bed, she traces the muscles along your arms, your stomach, your thighs with absent-minded fingers, quietly pointing out how much stronger you’ve gotten.

gym rat gf! maki never has to tell you why she pushes herself so hard. she says it in the way she catches you before you stumble, the way she keeps a protective hand at the small of your back through crowded streets, the way she carries you upstairs after leg day without so much as breaking a sweat. every early morning, every aching muscle, every hour spent becoming stronger has never been for the sake of strength itself. it’s always been for you. so she can be the one you lean on, the one who keeps you safe, and the one who gets to love you for the rest of her life.