Tmi To The Poll Takers Perhaps (but This Question Is Tmi Asking Anyway LOL) For Me I Have Only Done It

“you don’t believe that sex is the most intimate thing that two can do together?” you repeat sukuna’s previous words with a raised eyebrow, skepticism lacing every word you spoke.

“i had concubines before i was devoted to you. do you really think i see intercourse as something significant?” he doesn’t even spare you a glance, all four of his eyes focused on carefully peeling the fruits resting in the bowl in front of him (mangoes, to be specific. a special order he put in with uraume for you). your eyes narrow at his words.

“so you don’t see intercourse with me as something significant?” that earns you a roll of his eyes.

“i don’t recall those words leaving my lips, woman.” he glances at you with a bored look, already much too used to your antics and the nonsensical conclusions you often pulled from his words (“it’s called reading in between the lines, ryo.” you had insisted. he chose not to debate you on it).

he sighs when you go silent, seemingly waiting for an explanation from him that would fix the small pout gracing your lips. he would’ve let you sulk if you were anybody else, but you weren’t.

“i realize the significance humans place on it now that i am yours, but i partook in the act purely for pleasure before you. it was simply to fulfill my fleshly desires.” he doesn’t need to look at you to know that the frown on your face still hasn’t faltered. in fact, the displeased look on your face probably only deepened upon the mention of him being intimate with other women.

“human customs are foolish, that will never change.” his hand lifts to your lips, a cube of mango held delicately between his fingers. he continues speaking only after feeding you the fruit.

“but if my stubborn little wife sees it as something of importance, then it shall be so.” he says the last part with a sense of finality, as if it was a part of his life that he accepted a long, long time ago.

you contemplate his words for a moment, your posture easing against the lavish pillows of your shared bed. you stall on swallowing the piece of fruit on your tongue, considering a question in that ever curious mind of yours.

“what’s significant to you, ryo?”

he pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t answer, simply bringing another piece of fruit up to your lips (whether the action was out of care or to keep your mouth occupied was unclear).

his lack of an answer was as good of an answer as any, though.

this was significant to him. the way he cut and fed you soft fruit with hands that had slaughtered armies, handling you as if you were made of fine china. never yelling, never arguing.

the king of curses devoted himself to you because deep in his heart he acknowledged his subservience to you.

that is what’s significant to him.

writing really is just googling synonyms. that's it. just a constant carousel of "I used this word two paragraphs ago, what is another word for this word"

anyways FIT CHECK 👅👅👅

looking at pics of myself from middle school nd thank the lord i grew up sexy. holy shit.

I’m nosey so feel free to share your answer in the tags 🌚

i am a hater before anything BUT one of my biggest pet peeves is when ppl will post “ugh i hate this trope!! why do fanfic writers write this write smth different!!!” no!!!!! if u have such a problem w it write it yourself!!!!!!!!!!!

like authors write things for their own pleasure and joy, not for an audience…… learn how to write and write it urself if it bothers u so much!!!!

mdni!! (ﾟωﾟ)

satoru pauses in the middle of when you’re fucking to squeeze his eyes shut and thank whatever higher beings out there that he has a big dick.

because despite literally being born the strongest, he’d be damned if he couldn’t fuck you the way he does. he could handle living without the six eyes and limitless but not being able to fuck you correctly?? he’d rather drop dead on the spot.

anyways.

“hm. i wonder why ive been thinking about suguru so much?” mist says as if 3/4 of their mutuals aren’t suguru-ccentric writers.

mdni!! (´ω`)

so if i said aizawa daddy kink would u guys boo me. if i said aizawa softly comforting u while ur taking his cock with soft coos of “it’s okay, baby. daddy’s here, you can let go.” WOULD U SAY NO????

LIKE I DONT EVEN MEAN LIKE “rough alpha daddy dom 😈” NO!!!!!!! i mean soft soft sex w slow thrusts and gentle kisses and maybe some tears on ur end where he is just so devoted to making u feel good and comfy and uggggh. uggggggggh!!!!!!

oh i’m so in love w him. so so in love.

we can’t talk about long hair without talking about choso.

choso with his hair down, locks sleep-tousled and fanned across his pillow. his bangs have been getting long lately, now kissing the button of his nose.

choso who styles his hair so meticulously. who always has hair ties on his wrist (perfect for when you need to borrow one). who lets you braid his hair so prettily— so long as you kiss his forehead when you’re done.

he wants a lipstick stain.

choso who sweeps his bangs out of his face when he’s trying to cook or indulging in spa day. choso who pins his bangs back with a little headband (a fabric tiger-ear headband, to match yuji’s) or little bobby pins. loose hairs always fly out to stick up, but he looks cute any way.

choso who sits so patiently on the edge of the tub as you trim his ends. who trusts you with every fibre in his body, who— despite shaking like a dog every time you mention the hairdresser— lets you do whatever you’d like. even if it means being a little scared.

suggestive under the cut. 18+, mdni.

choso who begs for your hands in his hair. who whimpers at the first contact— at the drag of your nails up the side of his neck. choso whose pupils dialate wildly as your fingers tangle in the roots at the back of his skull. whose heartbeat is so loud, you can feel the thrum through his scalp.

choso who gets hard from you playing with his hair. it’s not his fault the electricity shoots from your fingers straight to his dick. choso who flushes up so prettily, pale cheeks blotchy with embarrassment as he looks at anything but you. especially as he palms at his cock discreetly over his jeans.

choso who thinks you don’t notice.

bad boy.

choso who loves to be dragged around by his pigtails. who loves to be manhandled— shoved to his knees and pulled face-first into your crotch. choso who looks up at you with those big glassy eyes as he kisses the seam between your clothed legs, dragging that cute little nose up your pelvis. choso who mouths so fervently right where you need it, who humps the air as you whisper praises with a fist around his roots.

choso who shies away when you’re ontop of him. choso who, behind those bangs, is a little teary; whose lower lip wobbles as he pulls it in between his teeth to muffle his little noises ‘cause it just feels too good. choso who lets you brush the hair out of his face to kiss him. who only cries a little into your mouth when you tuck his bangs behind his ear.

choso who is perfect.