Incoherence Dashed into Art

And yet you—a woman he had taken as a wife out of sheer boredom—had the gall to lay your hand upon him.

It was nothing grand—just your warm, gentle hand resting on his bicep.

Yet Sukuna stiffened under your touch and felt his skin burn with a foreign feeling. You noticed the change in his demeanor and quickly pulled your hand away.

“I'm… I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to touch you without permission.”

And after that, you never did it again.

But Sukuna couldn't forget about it. No matter how hard he tried—even letting his enemies cut off that same limb. But it was useless when he felt that same, warm tingling sensation when he grew it back.

Your touch was seared deeply into his skin.

He should be angry at you for doing this to him. He should kill you.

But instead, he craved. He craved your soft hands on his body again. He imagined you in ways he never dared to—what would it feel like to have your hands gently cradle his face? Would you be disgusted when your fingertips brushed against his deformed face? Or what would it feel like to have you here in his large futon—limbs tangled together, you pressed against him completely bare, letting his large hands freely explore your body and his stomach mouth nibble at your abdomen.

Sukuna's face twisted into an annoyed scowl as he squashed away those thoughts. He glared at the ceiling of his chambers—sleep eluding him.

Then his gaze lazily shifted towards the shoji doors that lead to the garden. They were rattling against the harsh winds of an oncoming storm.

And then he recalled that you were terrified of storms.

Sukuna closed his eyes, completely adamant on ignoring that small detail. But it kept nagging him in the back of his mind like a pounding headache again and again until he clicked his tongue and rose from his futon.

“Stupid, foolish woman.” He grumbled irritably as he left his chambers and made his way towards yours.

And when he reached it, he heard your soft whimpers and sniffles. The sudden hitch of your breath when there was a brilliant flash of lightning followed by defeaning thunder.

Sukuna tore open the shoji door, making you scramble up to sit on your futon in surprise.

“M-My lord?!” You hastily wiped away your tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Your incessant snivelling is disturbing the entire estate, woman.” He narrowed his eyes at the way your hands were trembling. “More than this wretched storm.”

Sukuna approached you, noting the look of fear in your eyes under his looming figure. Your mouth opened, ready to spew out some nonsense apology.

You looked so weak—so pathetic. He should really just kill you and be done with it.

But he found himself bending down and shoving away the covers of your futon.

“Move over.” He grunted.

You were frozen, staring at him dumbfounded.

“Huh…?”

“I won't repeat myself again. Move over.”

You quickly scooted to the other side of the futon as he slid in and made himself comfortable. In his eyes, you looked like a frightened, little rodent tucked away in the corner who gasped at another crash of thunder.

And yet, Sukuna merely rolled his eyes and grabbed your arm, pulling you down and pressing you firmly against his chest. Four arms wrapped around you, his nose pressed against your hair while his stomach mouth breathed against your own stomach.

Again, he felt it. The warmth when your hands were curled tightly into fists against his chest.

He resisted the urge to shiver.

The room was quiet, save for the howling and constant pattering from the wind and rain.

You were still shaking in his hold.

Sukuna frowned.

“Why are you still shaking?” His chest rumbled from his deep voice. “Do you really have anything to fear while being in my arms?”

Slowly, as if some realisation had dawned upon you, the trembling of your body lessened until it completely stopped.

“No… I don't.”

You relaxed in his hold, your fingers slowly uncurling, spreading out against his chest. Sukuna has never felt this much warmth. Not even his own divine flame could compare.

“Sleep.” He grunted out.

You were silent but then shifted slightly against his chest before mumbling.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Sukuna didn't reply.

You were about to lift your face up to look at him—to see what kind of expression he had on his face. But he merely placed a large hand on your head and kept you buried against his chest.

“Disobeying me again? I said sleep, wife.” His voice sounded strained.

And you eventually did—you relaxed and fell into deep sleep as if you weren't in the arms of the most dangerous sorcerer in Japan.

It was a few hours after when Sukuna followed suit. Not before listening to the sound of your soft snores or the way you twitched or snuggled deeper into his hold. His senses were engulfed with the scent of your favourite body oil—camellia.

Sukuna's treacherous thoughts betrayed him yet again as he decided that he… wouldn't mind staying like this with you more often.

And so the very next day, he promptly shifted you to his own chambers.

Art from to00fu! ✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.

husband!Sukuna is the type to actually wake up at 6 am just to feed your clumsy little cat, who somehow prefers him over you (she thinks Sukuna is her big biological cat mother).

husband!Sukuna is the type to pretend to be full when you’re eyeing his food at the restaurant, just to hunt down the fridge later at 3 am and finish all your meal prep for the week. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to pick you up by the waist in a large crowd and hold you that way for a few moments, just so you can see what’s happening in the front. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to pretend he’s getting annoyed by you tracing his tattoos, but he secretly loves it so much that he finds excuses to want a ‘massage’ just to have your hands on him after a long day at work.

husband!Sukuna is the type to flick your forehead when you’re disturbing his sleep, just to plant a peck on the spot right after you glare at him.

husband!Sukuna is the type to bring home a random assortment of Lush bath bombs ‘for you’, just to find an excuse to use the extra ones himself.

husband!Sukuna is the type to stare at your face, looking up like a little puppy for the entire hour you’re helping him touch up his roots because he loves getting pampered.

husband!Sukuna is the type who walks around at home wearing only boxers, to the point that the neighbour from the opposite building never opens their curtains anymore.

husband!Sukuna is the type to trigger your anger because he knows your weak spots and loves it when you get mad at him (it turns him on)

husband!Sukuna is the type to keep damaging too many locks and door handles around the house because he accidentally uses too much force to open them to impatiently get to you.

husband!Sukuna is the type to try a new recipe he learned and force feed it to you, even if it has terrible seasoning ratios, because he wants your honest feedback (he just wants you to not skip meals)

husband!Sukuna is the type to not want kids, but secretly wants to see your pregnant belly someday after seeing you handle his annoying niece surprisingly well.

husband!Sukuna is the type to lounge around you between his sets at the gym, waiting to slap any creepy man who looks at his wife with bad intentions.

husband!Sukuna is the type to secretly memorize the name of the setting powder you ran out of, just to cluelessly stand in Sephora while the staff insists on helping him (he wants to tell you he found it himself later)

husband!Sukuna is the type to carry you bridal style to your room while you’re passed out from fever medications and stroke your hair with his big hands, accidentally knotting a few strands. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to end the evening by laying his big head on your belly, mumbling in his sleep, because he says he loves the warmth but he secretly just loves getting babied by you.

a/n: not proofread!

get your fat ass out of my vents!!!!!

rain softly tapped against the window while you were folded under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep. 

satoru walks in, drenched from the rain. he shrugged off his soaked jacket and kicked off his shoes. he sighed, walking into the living room,

“baby, im home.” he calls out softly.

silence.

he frowned, that was unusual.

“baby?” he calls out again.

silence again.

it was only 5pm. there was no way you’re sleeping, satoru thought, until he saw you.

laying there like a cat, your lips slightly parted, both hands under your head.

“god baby..” he murmured, unable to hold back the smile forming on his face. he crouched down beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

youu looked so soft, so peaceful. he couldnt remember the last time he has seen you like this. no cute pouty lips or furrowed brows. just you... he couldn’t help himself. 

his thumb traced your cheek just for a second before he leaned down, softly and carefully pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 

“so pretty..”

You thought it’d be funny to try that “calling your bf your friend” trend you saw on tiktok on Satoru, just to see how his hopelessly in love ass would react.

Pressing the record button on your phone, Satoru stands just slightly behind you, his arm wrapped around your neck. He’s grinning into the phone, putting up a peace sign as if to say hello.

“Hi guys! Today I’m here with my friend Satoru,” he freezes against you instantly, his arm going firm where you can feel it against your neck. “We’re gonna try some new pastries…”

You keep talking into the camera, but you can see him through the screen, he’s glancing at you through the phone as well as craning his neck to look at you.

“Want to try it first?” You turn to him, holding the whipped cream stuffed bread out to him. He makes eye contact with you, his piercing blue eyes unwavering from your gaze.

“What was that?” He murmurs, his gaze hardening. You can see his jaw clench when you ask what he’s talking about. The video long forgotten.

“No,” he reaches out for your phone, not breaking eye contact as he sets it down, not caring enough to stop the recording. “We’re not doing this.”

You step back, his arm still wrapped at your neck curls in, pulling you up against his chest. He slides his other hand down to your waist, holding it firm.

Satoru’s eye twitches with anger, his jaw still tense as he speaks again. “Friend? Hm?” He brings his hand up to your cheek, cupping the side of your face as he leans in close.

He places a kiss against your lips, it's slow and tender, but you can feel the heat and passion behind it. He pulls back, just far enough he can speak freely.

“I am,” he leans in again, pulling back just as quick as he leaned in. “Not your fucking friend.” He mumbles against your lips in between kisses.

⋆˚꩜｡

“Is this what friends do, hmm?” Satoru growls into your ear, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. His large hand resting your the small of your back as he fucks into you with insane force.

You frantically shake your head, your tears wetting the satin of the bed sheets. “N..No!”

He rolls his head back on his shoulders, his Adam's apple bobbing as he suppresses a groan. “Tell me,” with a rough snap of his hips you're pushed higher up on the bed. “Who fucks you like this?”

A whine escapes your throat as he bites down on your shoulder, his pace quickens from your lack of an answer. “You! Fuck.. You, Toru!”

His large hands wrap around your stomach, his chest flush against your back as he pulls you back on him until you're on your knees. He’s still inside, in fact you’re taking him to the hilt.

“Good girl,” he hissed, his lips trailing the back of your neck as his hips twitched into yours. Your head falls back against his shoulder, a clear view of his glistening face, and that shit eating grin he’s got.

You barely have time to react before his hips snap again, fucking into you at a rapid pace. Still making eye contact with you, his hands slide up to your breasts.

His fingers playing with your nipple as he dips his head down to lick your other, the contrast of the cool air and his hot tongue are enough to make you cum right then and there.

“M’gonna- fuck,” you interrupt yourself, his free hand trails down to your clit. The pads of his fingers circling your clit as he pumbles into is too overstimulating.

“Cum for me,” he whispers against your breast, nipping at your perky nipples. Satoru seems put together, as if he’s not even close, but you feel the way his hips start stuttering, his legs shaking against your thighs. “Cum for your ‘friend’”

With one last thrust you come undone, the knot in your stomach breaking as you fall back into him. His body trembles beneath yours, hips staggering as he cums inside you.

The feeling of his thick, warm cum filling you up makes you fold over. Your head hitting the pillow as he falls with you, chest pressed against your back.

⋆˚꩜｡

When you fix yourselves up and go back to the kitchen, you notice your phone’s still been recording. The timer just hitting 2:30:00.

You sit down on the couch beside Satoru and play the video back, both laughing at how upset he was. Then you skip to sometime later in the two hours it recorded.

…

“I’m cutting that out, oh my god.” You flush, hiding your face in your hands. Satoru stole your phone from your hands, pressing play.

Loud moans from both your ends cut the silence and he laughed, sending the video to himself immediately.

I want you cradled in my ribcage, wrapped around my heart, so even it's every beat was shared with you.

──── ୨୧ ────

It had slipped out before you can think better of it. In the throes of pleasure, struck by the heat of it and with drool beginning to dribble out from the corner of your parted lips you’d said it - “daddy”.

Before you could even consider how odd it really was, how jarring and out of place it might have sounded to someone so removed from the modern age as Sukuna. But with him moving above you, all rippling skin and thick firm muscle, that lewd honorific was all you could think to utter - to cry out in a strangled moan when he sunk back inside so deep that a sizzle of little stars danced in your vision.

“Daddy?” He echoes the word with a flourishing scoff, though it’s not judgement that laces his tone, to your dulled surprise you find that it’s interest.

“Well you’re -hn-…” you begin to reply, only to swallow down another choked moan when his hips roll in a particularly well placed thrust, “you’re gonna take care of me aren’t you?”

“How archaic,” he replies plainly, and though he offers nothing further you can tell by his sudden silence that the great cogs of his mind are turning.

Typically he would be teasing you, cruel taunts snuck between deceptively sweet little slips of praise. Not that you can find it in yourself to really concern yourself with his lack of banter, or with what he’s thinking about. Not with the way each steady pump is knocking all sense of coherency loose from your brain, adding a fine layer of dreamy fuzz over your vision.

[content: MDNI, crack smųt, a very unserious piece of work, piv, hair pulling, use of aphrodisiacs, sukuna’s sour but then he’s sweet]

Never in your life have you been so horny it hurt.

“Kuna, please—harder,” you cry out.

“I’m going as hard as I fucking can, you little slut,” he snaps, each thrust matching every harsh word that gets spat through his teeth. “THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T EAT RANDOM. CHOCOLATE. ON. THE. COUNTER.”

“I’m sorry! Fuck!! I didn’t know!”

“There was a note saying DON’T eat it—you just didn’t give a shit because you’re a thief and a glutton. A liar now, too,” he continues to scold you over the chocolate bar he was going to give to Jin so he’d stop groveling over his ex. It’s been 6 fucking months, he’s tired of having to listen to him go on and on about Kaori. Enough is enough—he needs to go out and sleep with someone.

And now Jin’s never going to shut up. Sukuna doesn’t even want to look at you right now—let alone reward your behavior with dick.

“And now you’re cryin’ like it’s my fuckin’ fault.” It’s him who should be crying right now. “It’s simple: Leave my fucking snacks alone. I always get multiples of each so you’d keep your grubby little hands off them. Why can’t you just be normal and go in my wallet?? Fuck—Arch that back some more.” He cracks his palm over your ass. “Yeah, hike it up nice and high.”

“I can’t!” It feels like it’s about to break with all the weight he’s putting on it! Both of his hands pinning you down, burying every last inch of his cock inside of you.

He scoffs, nudging for you to close your thighs, then planting his knees right next to yours so they stay that way. “Do you want to cum?”

Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.

The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriend’s white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.

The second time, it’s in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. You’re far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.

The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friend’s bathroom. You should’ve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.

“Satoru,” you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. “Someone could hear.”

He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. “Then let them. Let them see how well you’re being treated on your special day.”

You can’t contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. “You’ve already-mm-treated me twice.”

“Not enough for me, baby. I won’t let you sleep until I’ve given you at least six orgasms today.”

You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.

The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.