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diremoone · 20 hours
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This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 
If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 
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diremoone · 6 days
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diremoone · 9 days
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Waahhh new url!! Hi Frellie 🤍🤍 I hope you’re feeling better and that your days have been brighter. How are you enjoying the Knave? I got her on a whim when she released haha her trial was super fun and I immediately thought yep she’s going on my team
Same! I’m never taking her off my team! I got her like, five days before her banner was up, I think?? I’ll have to check lmao. I’ve been in love ever since. She’s so powerful (Wish I would’ve remembered to wish on her weapon banner more often, I totally forgot). And her aesthetic too!
I love the sound her heels make especially, it’s so cool :3 They help with Windtrace rn too since they’re a dead giveaway for her when you’re hiding from the Hunter 🤣
And yess! New url in honor of our beloved Knave and getting her I’ve been in desperate need for a 5 star Pyro 😌 Though I did have to shorten it a bit, I think it does the job 🤭
And my days have been better! Thank you! ❤️❤️ Still stressful, but less stressful for sure. Things seem to be getting out of the rough patch, thank goodness ☺️
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diremoone · 10 days
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ੈ♡ alhaitham x fem reader
a/n: i have been thinking about how alhaitham is canonically messy, which turned into his little drabble. i really love this man
warnings: sfw + one suggestive comment, fluff :’) minors dni with me i am an 18+ account
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(Alhaitham cannot find your engagement ring.)
You arrive to your boyfriends house for your date, a little earlier than usual but you do enjoy saying hello to Kaveh, inspecting the fridge to see if there’s any baklava, and of course, to get in all the time you can with Alhaitham.
“Oh there you are,” Kaveh bemoans when you walk in through the front door, shuffling in and greeting the blonde with a curious look at the tone of his voice.
“He’s lost something in that ridiculous mess of his. Muttering while making an even bigger mess as he sorts through it all, and can you believe he won’t even let me help? I’m just trying to be a good roommate!” Kaveh throws his hands up, and then with a heavy sigh he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“He listens to you of course, maybe you can help him find whatever it is he’s misplaced.”
You laugh lightly with a shake of your head, knowing that the both of them argued about Alhaitham’s habit of a cluttered space for awhile by the sounds of it, and make a beeline for your lovers room, “alright I will, thanks for the info, Kaveh.”
You open the door without knocking as you usually do, and stifle a giggle at the sight of Alhaitham bent over comically over a stack of books against the wall of his bedroom.
“I told you Kaveh, I don’t need your help, and in any case you -“ he stands up straight and casts his teal gaze to you, eyes widening uncharacteristically so.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“Is that how you greet your girlfriend now?” you raise an eyebrow as you try to open the door further to allow your body inside as Alhaitham crosses the room until he’s standing in front of you, pulling you in by the hand.
“Not at all, my apologies love. Hi.” he kisses your cheek and you hum with a small pout of narrow satisfaction, turning your attention to the wreck that is his bedroom.
“Haiyi….what happened in here?” you’re bewildered by the books and papers and clothing that though usually he has in an organized mess, to now be strewn about everywhere.
“I uh…can’t find something. But not to worry, I know I’ll find it soon, feel free to wait in the living room with Kaveh. I’m sure he’d love to chat.” he nods you towards the door and your hand goes to his chest to lightly push at him.
“Oh I can help you honey, remember that time I found my panties you swore were missing?” you raise a brow, knowing full well at the time Alhaitham had hidden them for…reasons. Alhaitham shifts, floundering in his spot. Even more uncharacteristic for him.
“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” he assures with his typical solid stance, holding you gently by the shoulders with a forehead kiss, “I won’t be too long, I promise.”
“What you’re looking for must be really important though? Especially if you’re essentially tearing your room apart…” you reply with wide eyes, your hand reaches up to grasp his that sets on your shoulder and you squeeze softly. Alhaitham sighs, his lips turning up in the slightest,
“It is….very important that I find it. Imperative, actually.” he licks his lips and looks at you for a moment, foregoing his hold on your shoulders to cup your face so he’s able to crane your face up for a loving kiss that melts against your mouth like warm and silky chocolate.
“But, I need to look for it myself, alright?” he murmurs with an affectionate tone that you’re more than aware is reserved for you.
“Is this like a find yourself thing?” you quip, and Alhaitham huffs out a chuckle,
“No it’s not something psychological I can assure you.”
You laugh at his amused smile and turn on your heel to allow him to continue his search, eyes inexplicably falling to the small table that resides just inside his room, beside his door.
A music box lays there, it has always been there since you and Alhaitham even became a couple. A gift from his father given to his mother - now passed down to Alhaitham. It’s intricate with greens and shimmering gold paint, and the song, a lullaby of sorts, always brings a smile to your face. Your fingers reach out for it, lifting the lid to once again hear the tune even for just a moment on your way out - you figure perhaps Alhaitham could have something to listen to while he’s looking for whatever he’s misplaced.
The melody plays, a gentle and honey sweet symphony - and your breath is stolen away at what lays inside the music box.
“H-Haitham?”
Another box, much smaller but the shape is unmistakable, the rose colored velvet square that lays within the space surrounded by a few other precious treasures and heirlooms given to Alhaitham. Your fingers shake, reaching for the small box before a hand darts out to grasp your hand and you glance up at your lover whose chest is rising and falling rapidly with the abrupt development.
“Is….is um, is this what you were looking for?” you lick your lips and watch as Alhaitham’s eyes grow impossibly soft, pillowy with ardent adoration. There’s a smile on his face at how of course, you come into his life and are able to find things, to see him. He leans over and takes the box in his lithe fingers, holding it delicately as he sinks to one knee.
He wanted it to be different, proposing to the love of his life, but even Alhaitham with all of his knowledge and wisdom is aware that life doesn’t always go as planned. He wasn’t looking for love when he found you. But he did. And he found it abundantly.
You bounce on the balls of your feet with elation, hiccuping and wiping your already tear soaked face as Alhaitham takes your other hand in his,
“It is. And if you have a moment, I have a question for you.”
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reblogs and feedback appreciated !
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diremoone · 10 days
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you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry
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only the sun has come this close, only the sun
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gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^
fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
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you are clingy.
always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.
yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—
and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.
soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.
just how he likes it.
very much how he adores you.
affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.
he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.
he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—
"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.
your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.
gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.
he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.
"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"
another beat passes.
and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.
"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"
the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—
not that he really minds that, though.
for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.
it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.
his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.
thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"
"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!
he pinches your cheek lightly.
"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.
the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—
"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.
"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."
it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.
he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—
the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.
he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—
but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.
just like you and him.
contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.
he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.
stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.
"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"
"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.
"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"
gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.
but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.
he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.
the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"
"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"
your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.
you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.
"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"
"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—
but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"
"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.
and his insides begin to twist—
one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.
you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"
"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"
you're not okay.
you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—
you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.
you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.
feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.
brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.
"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"
"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??
sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.
and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??
"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.
but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.
"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"
and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—
not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.
and will always stay yours—
"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"
gojo pauses.
and wonders.
is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?
he hopes there is.
your husband really, seriously hopes there is—
'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.
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this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰
and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰
hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
masterlist
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diremoone · 11 days
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@vagabond-umlaut my brain rewrote itself. ‘nuff said 🤣
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My Patrons <3 really liked the Sukuna portrait sketch so I turned it into a page.
(censored AND cropped so i can keep my blog... more on x and Patr3on, links in pinned)
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diremoone · 12 days
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Sukuna showing you his love and appreciation on Mother's Day
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). fluff + smut. wc 2k
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Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), creampie, praise, pregnancy. Reader and Sukuna already have a daughter together, and reader is pregnant with Sukuna's second baby. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear + @/qqmaiztwsse. This story can be read as part 2 of this baby daddy Sukuna story, but you don't have to read the first part.
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You wake up to the mattress shifting under Sukuna's weight, as he is carefully untangling himself from you, trying not to wake you up. You blink sleepily and watch your husband get up, unable to tear your gaze away from Sukuna's broad, tattooed back and the way his buff muscles move when he stretches.
Of course, he catches you checking him out and smirks that typical charming smirk at you as you are about to sit up. But Sukuna is quicker. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and pushes you gently back down on the pillow,
"Uh uh, no getting up yet. I still need time to prepare some things. Go back to sleep, darling. Happy Mother's Day."
You smile and snuggle back into your blanket, watching Sukuna getting dressed before he leaves the bedroom with one last look over his broad shoulder and an amused wink.
When you wake up the second time that morning, the lovely scent of coffee and freshly baked muffins drifts to your nose. And the loud chatter of your little daughter and Sukuna. You grin to yourself as you hear them in front of the bedroom door, arguing over who gets to wake you up.
"She is my mommy and not yours!"
"But she is my wife!"
"Oh, Daddy, don't be stupid! It's called Mother's Day, not Wife's Day!"
You hear Sukuna sigh dramatically, and you can practically see his amused grin and the way he rolls his beautiful maroon eyes in mock exasperation.
"Ok, ok, I will let you wake her up, princess. Do you have your present?"
The answer seems to be yes because a second later, the door gets pushed open, and your daughter runs over to the bed and jumps onto it, pushing the gift she made for you in kindergarten in your face: A painting with a heart and flowers and four figures, you, her, and Sukuna, and in your tummy little baby number two.
You thank her profusely, hugging her and letting her explain the painting to you when Sukuna joins you on the bed with a beautiful rose bouquet in his arms and a little gift bag from your favorite skincare brand.
You smile at your little princess and your husband, thanking them for the gifts and marveling at how similar they look. She has your eyes, but you can see her father's features in her pretty face, and when her lips lift in a grin, it is a 100% match to the grin that you love so much on Sukuna's face.
You lift your head to look at Sukuna, realizing that he is watching you and your daughter too. There is an unguarded, soft expression on his beautiful, tattooed face. An expression that makes your heart fill with tenderness for this tough man who is so good to you and your daughter.
A strong arm wraps around your waist at that moment, and Sukuna pulls you closer to him. And you cup his cheek and smile at him as he closes the small distance between you to kiss you, but not before he whispers, "Thank you."
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The breakfast table is overflowing with things. The coffee and homemade muffins you already smelled, but also various sweet and savory treats from the bakery down the street. And flowers that your daughter picked this morning with her daddy in the park.
You smile as you imagine big, tall Sukuna with his intimidating tattoos and arrogant smirk, picking pretty flowers with his little daughter and the looks the two of them must have received from the grandmas taking their morning walk in the park.
You get up to help with the dishes after you're finished eating, but Sukuna sends a stern look your way, shaking his head, 
"What do you think you are doing? Sit back down."
He points at his daughter,
"You stay here and make sure your mommy doesn't lift a single finger."
You laugh and lean back in your chair, taking another sip from the orange juice as you watch Sukuna do the dishes and clean the kitchen.
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The three of you spend the rest of the day together, going on a long walk in the park. Your little one is running ahead while you and Sukuna stroll leisurely side by side, with his arm around your waist or you leaning against his side and holding onto his biceps.
You make a stop at an ice cream parlor, eat ice cream, and drink coffee afterward while your daughter plays on the playground in front of the little shop.
Before you know it, Sukuna has pulled you onto his lap. He holds you with one arm while he sips his coffee with the other and grins that boyish grin at you that always makes your pulse flutter, no matter how often you see it.
Sukuna's large hand is sprawled over your belly, where the swell of your baby bump is already visible. He caresses it absentmindedly, making you smile because you know how proud he is that you are pregnant with his second baby.
And right at that moment, a soft kiss lands on your shoulder, and Sukuna murmurs in a sexy low voice, only for you to hear,
"You are so beautiful, mommy."
When it's time to go home, your daughter, of course, complains loudly that she doesn't want to leave yet, but Sukuna just jogs over to her with a smirk, plucks her off the jungle gym with ease, and casually throws her over one shoulder.
You laugh when you see her kick her little legs and scream, only to realize a minute later that it's very comfortable to get carried by her daddy, and she stops struggling and instead slumps lazily onto her father's broad shoulder.
Sukuna's low laugh joins yours,
"You are acting like a sack of rice. Be careful I don't mix things up and accidentally make dinner out of you."
"Oh yeah? And you look like a strawberry with your pink hair. Be careful I don't make dessert out of you, Daddy!"
"Well, I would definitely make a great dessert! But I have to inform you that I am actually a full-course meal, young lady."
You burst out laughing again, affectionately ruffling your daughters and Sukuna's hair, thinking how similar they are not just in looks but also in their personalities.
Your daughter still refuses to walk on her own, but luckily, Sukuna is strong and doesn't even break a sweat while carrying her all the way home to your apartment. And you grin to yourself, knowing how loving Sukuna is when it comes to his little family. A strong and protective man who would do anything for you and your babies. Your little daughter has calmed down again, too, and snuggles against Sukuna, hugging his neck and almost falling asleep right there on her father's shoulder.
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A few hours later, your apartment is quiet, with your daughter fast asleep in her room, and the lights dimmed.
And Sukuna and you have some time only for each other.
He pulls you into his strong arms, pressing his tall, firm body against yours, and kisses you thoroughly. Tender and deep kisses that make your knees weak.
And when your lips part, there is this tender expression on Sukuna's face that is only reserved for you.
"Thank you for all the love you give our little brat. And all the love you give me. Thank you for making this apartment a home. I never thought I would have a real home or a real family. But you gave me all that and I am so grateful for you. I love you, darling."
Sukuna swoops you up in his strong arms and carries you to your bedroom while you smile at him with tears in your eyes, telling him that you love him too, while you caress the short hair of his undercut, your heart feeling so full.
You lock the bedroom door and immediately begin to undress each other on your way over to the large bed. You moan at the feel of Sukuna's buff muscles under your hands, and he groans when he places you on the bed and lets his hungry gaze travel slowly over your naked body.
There were times when you felt insecure and ashamed at the thought of being so exposed to someone's gaze. But not anymore. With Sukuna, you feel desired, loved, and your body reacts to his loving gaze, your nipples hardening and your pussy wet and yearning for Sukuna's cock.
He leans over you, so tall and big but so loving. Sukuna always spoils you in bed, but especially tonight, on Mother's Day, the day that exists to show you his appreciation.
You are drowning in bliss as Sukuna's lips and tongue wander down your body slowly, loving you, worshipping the body of the woman he loves, the body of the mother of his children. He makes you feel sexy like no other man before him did, even with the changes your body went through after the first pregnancy and your current pregnancy.
You mewl softly when Sukuna plays with your sensitive breasts, which are already filling out more again due to the pregnancy hormones, cupping them with his large hands and sucking gently on your stiff nipples. His mouth wanders to your swollen belly, trailing kisses over the bump where his baby number two is growing.
Your hips buck needily when Sukuna pushes your legs apart and trails tender kisses over your inner thighs before he reaches his goal and slowly makes out with your swollen clit. Your heart is racing, your mind hazy as you give yourself to your husband completely, letting him pamper you and show you how grateful he is for you.
Your first orgasm that night is on Sukuna's tongue. Hot pleasure explodes inside you while your fingers twist in his pink hair and tug on it as you throw your head back and moan his name softly, shuddering on his velvety mouth as he licks and kisses you through your high.
The second one is on Sukuna's cock when he takes you with slow but deep thrusts while you lie on your side so it's comfortable for you with your baby bump. And Sukuna is behind you, his strong muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you while he rolls his hips against you, fucking his long and thick cock deep into you. 
Sukuna's face is buried in your neck, and you get blessed with hearing his sexy, low moans. One of his large hands is on your pregnant belly, while the other is between your legs, caressing tender circles around your clit. His lips brush over your neck, kissing you, moaning softly in utter bliss and devotion, and whispering to you how beautiful you are, how sexy, murmuring his praise and love to you in that sexy, hoarse voice that drives you crazy.
Sukuna's hand clamps over your mouth just in time for your orgasm, and you squeal into his large hand as you cum on his cock, twitching and clenching on him, milking his hot, sticky seed out of him, that he spills into you with a low, guttural moan.
You stay in that position afterward, cuddling while lying on your side, Sukuna hugging you tightly from behind, his thick cock still deep inside you.
You lazily trace the tattoos on Sukuna's wrists with one hand while your other hand reaches behind to tangle in Sukuna's soft pink hair as you turn your head to let him kiss you tenderly.
"You are so fucking beautiful. I might just make you a mommy again."
"I imagine that to be a bit hard when I am already very pregnant with your baby, Kuna."
And he laughs and kisses your shoulder, his smile evident in his voice,
"Doesn't mean I can't try."
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HE IS SO 💗💗 Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed your time with Daddy Sukuna ;)
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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diremoone · 13 days
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diremoone · 13 days
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might be temporary may not be but in honor of me getting arlecchino a couple nights ago
javarium ➡️ diremoone
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diremoone · 14 days
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you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry
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only the sun has come this close, only the sun
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gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^
fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
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you are clingy.
always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.
yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—
and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.
soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.
just how he likes it.
very much how he adores you.
affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.
he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.
he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—
"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.
your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.
gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.
he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.
"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"
another beat passes.
and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.
"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"
the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—
not that he really minds that, though.
for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.
it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.
his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.
thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"
"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!
he pinches your cheek lightly.
"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.
the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—
"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.
"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."
it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.
he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—
the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.
he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—
but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.
just like you and him.
contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.
he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.
stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.
"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"
"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.
"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"
gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.
but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.
he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.
the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"
"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"
your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.
you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.
"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"
"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—
but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"
"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.
and his insides begin to twist—
one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.
you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"
"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"
you're not okay.
you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—
you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.
you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.
feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.
brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.
"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"
"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??
sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.
and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??
"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.
but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.
"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"
and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—
not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.
and will always stay yours—
"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"
gojo pauses.
and wonders.
is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?
he hopes there is.
your husband really, seriously hopes there is—
'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.
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this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰
and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰
hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
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diremoone · 18 days
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Because I need the comfort:
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). fluff + mentions of smut. Sukuna manhandles Reader but in a loving way. 18+. Minors don't interact. Divider @/chaefilm
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You are a writer/artist or working on an assignment and have a breakdown because you are stuck. Boyfie Sukuna watches that for about half an hour before he gets up, wraps his strong, tattooed arms around you, and, without warning, lifts you up from your chair, away from your work, and into his arms.
You squeal in surprise, followed by a loud complaint as you squirm in Sukuna's tight grip. But Sukuna just laughs at your admittedly weak attempt to free yourself, throws you over his broad shoulder, and carries you away from your computer/laptop.
"Stop struggling, princess. It's no use anyway. If you think I will just sit here and watch my girl cry over work, you are very wrong."
"Baby, let go! I have to go back to my computer!"
But your boyfriend just laughs and shakes his head, putting you down on your feet again, but only to pull you against his side, restraining you easily, even with just one arm, as he closes the door to the living area. You watch with wide eyes as Sukuna locks the door and smirks that infuriatingly sexy smirk at you, holding the key above his head so you can't reach it, letting it dangle mockingly from one of his long, tattooed fingers.
"Sukuna, please! I really have to finish this!"
"No, wrong. I'll tell you what you have to do. You have to put on some outdoor clothes and go for a long walk with me."
Sukuna comes even closer, leaning down to kiss your neck and whisper in an equally amused and seductive voice,
"We'll get some of your favorite treats from the bakery and then drive out of the city. Fresh air will do wonders for your attitude, darling. And tonight, when we are back, I'm taking you out to dinner. And after that, I'll fuck all the rest of your attitude out of you."
His words make your stomach involuntarily flutter, and you stop struggling and instead look up at Sukuna with a small grin,
"I want the red velvet cupcakes and...," you put a hand on Sukuna's firm biceps, giving them a squeeze, and brushing your thumb over the tattooed lines, "maybe I already need a taste of that last part you mentioned right now."
The smirk on Sukuna's beautiful face grows broader, and his large hands slip down to your ass, grabbing it firmly and lifting you up again, making you wrap your legs tightly around his hips as he carries you to the bed.
"Sure, that can be arranged. My princess gets everything she wants."
"Just not my computer."
"Yeah, just not the computer. But my dick brings a lot more joy anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem."
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diremoone · 21 days
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✦ Capitano, an avid hot springs enjoyer
Part 10 of me trying to draw your simple (yet silly) Capitano headcanons. This time, Capitano enjoying Natlan's hot springs after a good battle ♨️ (Hoyo, if I do not get to meet Capitano with just a towel on while visiting the Hot Springs you keep mentioning, I will absolutely implode. I need my hot springs episode with Cappy)
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diremoone · 21 days
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Frellie ᰔ My love, I’m sending good vibes your way and wishing you a wonderful week ahead of you. Baked you a little basket of chocolate chip muffins too~ Enjoy 💕 *squeezes and kisses you*
Hazeeel~! 💖 Hellooo! It’s good to hear from you again! ☺️ Aha, thank you for the muffins hun, those are one of my favorites! 😆 And the wishes are well-received, bc I’m sure as heck gonna need them this week it’s just stress over the small things dw. Life’s been hitting and smacking hard these last couple of days tbh. But I’ll make it with the power of friendship and muffins 💪🤣
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diremoone · 21 days
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to all the lovely people that have tagged me in things and sent the nicest messages to my inbox …
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I’ll get back to you soon! It’s been a rough couple of days, and to be very honest I’ve felt the need to go and see a doctor because my chest hasn’t felt this awful in a long time, if at all. That’s all I’ll say for now :/
Everyone, make sure to take care of yourselves! Make sure to eat when you’re hungry and get plenty of rest ❤️ I’ll reply to everyone and do the lil tag games asap, promise. Just gotta get my health straight first 😉
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diremoone · 25 days
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contents: neuvillette x gn!reader, reader is very old, reader dies of old age, both neuvi and reader have made peace with reader's death, waxing poetic about water and the sea
or, the end of one life is the start of another.
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it was a good life. a long life, full of light and laughter and love.
today, at the end of all days, you lay in bed, blanketed by the arms of your lover. he has not changed. not in the same ways you have. you have been weathered by the world in ways that neuvillette will never understand. but tonight, he looks to you, and you know that he knows.
"you will not pass me by like a ship in the night," he says. his hands, still so smooth, still so unblemished, cup your face. he traces gently over the deep crinkles around your eyes— a manifestation of how his love has changed you for the better. evidence of the great and unbridled joy he has gifted to you.
"i won't," you agree. it is, at once, a condemnation and a reassurance. "i remain, for now. for you. will you miss me, when i'm gone?"
"miss you?" he searches your face. you hope he sees years of contentment written in the lines of your smile. "do the clouds miss the sea?"
they do. the nature of water is to return to the sea from whence it came. the sky itself leaps to the horizons, hoping against hope to run its fingers over the cresting waves. rain is a joyful reunion, a homecoming. a melding of souls. love.
"one day, i will come to the end of my river," he says. his lips brush over your forehead— one last, fleeting blessing. "i will look for the shape of happiness, and i will find you."
when you pass, it is gently, so gently. there is always time for one last kiss.
outside, it begins to rain.
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diremoone · 27 days
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Wriothesley falling in love means you being the reason for his smile when he sees you for the first time that day. Even if it’s just the tiniest quirk at the corners of his mouth, it’s most definitely there and he’s usually seen in a better mood for the rest of the day. The Head Nurse notices this and after she made a passing comment, he can’t help but catch himself doing it the moment you come into his view and dammit was Sigewinne right about you—you do make him happy, more so than you could ever imagine.
Wriothesley falling in love means he can believe these things you tell him—about himself. You’re by no means naive but you always strive to see the good in people and understand their circumstances. Even when he questions what kind of man he is, you tell him he’s a nice person who looks after everyone beneath his care. Even if he’s got blood on his hands and has his regrets, you tell him it wasn’t really fair that he was pushed into that position in the first place. He still has some reservations about his past, but he appreciates being seen in a different light.
Wriothesley falling in love means he’s always a bit romantic with you. When you mention you miss feeling the sun’s warmth on your face after having to spend most of your time at the Fortress of Meropide to be with him, he plans a small outing in a scenic location to watch the sunrise/sunset together. (And he makes a mental note to take you on dates in the overworld more). When you pretend you’re getting overheated by snuggling too close to him and move away slightly, he pulls you back with purpose and a teasing smirk on his handsome features. “It’ll be cold outside of my embrace. You want to stay here… forever, right?”
Wriothesley falling in love means he’s allowed to be incredibly sappy and a touch playful and say all these sweet things because if there’s one thing he loves most about you—it’s the way you bring out the softness in him and you make it so easy for him to just be himself with you. Even someone like him who hasn’t been dealt the easiest hand in life is deserving of a tender and healing kind of love whether he believes it or not.
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diremoone · 27 days
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Arlecchinui
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