Sukuna hated how sharp your tone got whenever you were upset with him. It was obvious too and you were the only one in the estate who could be as petty. he clears his throat before speaking, his gaze avoiding yours, “Wife.”

The first time the two of you crossed paths in two days and you looked at him as if you wanted nothing to do with him. The maids couldn’t even cut a grape with how tense the air was. Him avoiding your eyes only made you click your tongue and bow.

Moving to walk past him, he turns around just as quickly, frantically grabbing your wrist, “WAIT!”

Eyes widened, breaths were caught, and you were annoyed.

clearing his throat once more, he lowers his voice immediately, “wait. please.”

now you’re sitting in his chambers, on his large bed, your hands rested in your lap gracefully. your gaze sharp enough to make the room feel smaller, he stands before you nervously looking everywhere but at you.

“I’m sorry.” he lets out quietly, opening his mouth to continue, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that. when you clearly worried.”

he glances at you in between words, feeling like a puddle under the weight of your gaze, sweat beads at the corner of his temples, worried you would dismiss him, he continues. “I was frustrated and took it out on you.”

He looks up from your feet, a falter of your expression no where to be seen, he kneels in front of you, gently taking the back of your hands into his palms, “I may not deserve your forgiveness,”

his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your wrists, “But I would love it if you found it in your heart to forgive a fool like me once more.”

he dips his head into the palms of the hands smaller than his, his eyes closed, eyelashes kissing the middle of your hands as he pressed himself there, awaiting for your forgiveness.

a small huff leaves you, followed by a defeated sigh. your fingers curl into his face, cupping gently. you lift up his chin, his ruby red eyes meeting yours as they looked at you with such longing.

you find yourself leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his eye, a small sign of your grace.

The corners of his mouth couldn’t help but tug at the feeling, leaning into the palm of your hand while he melts into your touch.

It happened every time Sukuna would nap, his stomach mouth would awaken like another whole entity itself and start talking to you, somehow sensing your presence every time.

Its voice, deeper than Sukuna’s yet still extremely similar, drawled out slowly. “I have always wondered what you’d taste like, woman.”

Your throat bobs nervously. “Can’t you taste things from both mouths?”

He hummed ‘no’, lip twitching up into a smirk. “Care to appease my wishes? I can already feel you throbbing on my thigh.”

You shift upon Sukuna’s lap, the man himself still deep in sleep. He remained with his eyelids fluttered closed as you slipped off the silk robe you were wearing and discarded your underwear, slowly shuffling up his abdomen until you were hovering over the stomach mouth.

“Don’t leave a starved man waiting,” the stomach growled beneath you, breath touching in between your legs and making your thighs squeeze against either side of his torso.

Hesitantly, you lowered yourself down until the thick tongue pressed flat against your heat, sinking into your slick and licking a long strip fron your hole to your clit. Your nails dig into your husbands skin immediately, lower lip tucked between your teeth to try and quieten your moans.

“Are- are you sure about this?” You ask tentatively, glancing up at Sukuna sleeping soundly.

“Mmm,” the mouth hums in pleasure. “Very sure.”

You writhed and moaned atop him, head tipping back in ecstasy, any remaining sensibility leaving your brain the second the long, thick tongue delved into your hole and ate you out as if you were its last meal and it was the sweetest thing it had ever tasted.

You’d finished twice already when Sukuna grumbled on the bed, hands twitching and eyes flickering, threatening to open and expose you of your current act. The speed at which you pull off his stomach makes the bed shake violently, throwing the discarded robe over your naked body as quickly as possible.

It’s your erratic movements that causes your husband to fully wake, slipping from unconsciousness and blindly reaching for you. You settle down next to him casually. “I’m here, Ryo.”

“Hm,” he grumbles sleepily. “Did you rest?”

You nod. “Mhm.”

“Good.”

There’s a beat of silence as you both settle down to sleep again.

“Liar. I can taste you on my tongue.”

after carrying your son around in your stomach for 9 months, and pushing through 8 hours of intense labour, you are now staring down at your beautiful baby boy with tired eyes.

he is beautiful, but he looks exactly like his father.

you huff. "he looks exactly like you"

"don't sound too excited" sukuna jokes, smoothing over yujis scarce pink hair.

you inspect the baby further, peering at his pink hair, the exact same shade as his daddy's, as well as the same skin tone and his little mouth laying perfectly flat along his face while he sleeps. your eyes follow his chubby arms and fingers and belly, baby fat almost promising that he will get as big and strong as his dad.

then you look up to his father, kuna's face resting in the same serious line while you watch him watching yuji. you reach up and cup sukuna's cheek. when his gaze meets yours you take in the details of his pretty eyes, his tattoos, and his markings below his eyes.

you snap your head back to yuji.

"kuna he even has your little markings" you whine, "he looks nothing like me... i pushed out your fatass baby and carried him for 9 months the least he could do is look a little like me.." you continued on.

sukuna holds back a laugh and smooths over your hair, "the next one will look exactly like you.. maybe a pretty little girl."

you grumble a little more but inevitably settle down and lay back onto the pillow. with yuji in your arms, and sukuna leaning over you both, carressing yujis face, you all sit there for a while.

yuji babbles a little in his sleep and cracks a little smile. "he must be dreaming" you softly mumble with a smile.

sukuna looks back and forth between you too. "he has your smile"

if you weren't so tired, you would've jumped for joy. "really?" you tuck yourself against sukunas chest, nuzzling him slightly.

he hums.

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

Certainly! I based these off of traditional Western/American weddings, I hope that's what you had in mind :-)

- His proposal was exceptionally romantic (though he thinks it was a bit cliché). He had a plane fly above your farm carrying a banner that said "*Farmer*, will you marry me?"

- You were so distracted with your farming that Harvey had to point it out to you. You just about tackled him to the ground as you said yes!

- I'd like to say that Harvey is a hands-off, go with the flow kind of groom. But alas, he's very excited to be involved with the wedding planning process.

- Now he's not a groomzilla by any means, but he certainly has opinions and visions for the big day.

- His biggest asks are that wine is served at the reception (bonus points if it comes from your farm), that your first dance could be to his favorite jazz artist, and of course that you say I do.

- You were going to fight him on the jazz one, but the way his eyes sparkled while talking about the wedding made him impossible to say no to.

- For the wedding, you gifted him a small, silver pin shaped like an airplane. Not only to symbolize his love for planes, but also as a meaningful nod to his proposal. He wore it on his tie for the entire celebration, and now keeps it pinned on his lapel at all times.