#cw echo body

[frogs-stealing-sleep]

Swapfell art Swapfell art!

He doesn't get a lot of love so I drew him

Swapfell/Blackberry/Plum belongs to Kkhoppang

He has so many nicknames heheh

Cw Echo body below

I trans rayed Blackberry look at hiiiim!

[ominouspuff]

Gift-piece for @ghosts-of-rishi for some ideas we were playing around with. Fives discovering Echo is alive but possibly even more cursed than they already were.

They say there’s no good that can come from making deals with the Piper, but what Jango’s after is hardly what most people’d call ‘good’.

(Featuring Cursed!Jango, who went looking for a son in the wrong places, made a deal with a sea-god, double-crossed said sea-god, and now has three million cursed children.)

“Flesh and blood, you said,” the sea-witch taunted, gloated, condemned. And they are, they are — Jango’s split up, every bit of him, flesh and blood he never even had, divided between every blessed child — but no amount of clever carving of meat can account for a soul, and that’s the real curse. It is not Jango, not Jango alone, who is caged within the unnatural ribs and skull and pounding veins. “Watch them grow, fool; nurture them.” The sea-witch sentenced, and Jango does, he does; silently screaming, unable to separate himself from a single one, unable to sleep even when they sleep, too split up in too many inhuman ways to speak or think beyond wishing it was over… but they know he’s there, and speak to him sometimes. He can hear them cursing, over three million souls better left dead at the bottom of the seas, plucked and borrowed and wiped clean with new flesh sewn together. Why didn’t you leave us be? One is sobbing because he knows he should be dead and they say that’s as good as being at peace, and he is neither of those things.

His children are his spitting image, but they have old, old eyes and no memories of how they came to be that way, and there are three million of them — and not a soul that ever knew Jango Fett before — before — before — can explain it. He watches them all try through six million eyes.

[peachiseas]

“How dare they insinuate that I, a perfect echo, do not have this right?”

Drew my lil headcanon design of Echo/Null Zelda… this scene was so cool-

[ibrithir-was-here]

Rosemary is for Remembrance Part 5

Part 1

Part 4

Part 6

[sealrock]

the major arcana, shuffled: 4/??

THE HIGH PRIESTESS; ⤉ spirituality, higher power, mystery, subconscious ⤈ hidden motives, secrets, repressed intuition, cognitive dissonance THE EMPRESS; ⤉ motherhood, femininity, nurturing, harmony ⤈ smothering, negligence, lack of growth, insecurity THE EMPEROR; ⤉ fatherhood, structure, authority, control ⤈ tyranny, domination, recklessness, rigidity

[turbojawdo]

Thanks @echollama for drawing my new boy Dorian for me!

[m-kyunie]

elegance.

[curlygirlybitchachos]

I'm here to make you day worse. Sorry for that. Anyways last night I got some inspirations and I made myself cry while writing but it's okay.

I want to tag @ithillia so they could check out this disaster of fiction.

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 20: Hamper

(cw: body horror)

Light snowfall landed gently upon Sharlayan's marble. While snowfall here was never anything nearly as heavy as Coerthas or Garlemald, it was enough to leave frost on the lush green grass and send a shiver down Dia's spine. As the cold nipped at her, she passed along Scholar's Harbor, wanting a chance at some fresh sea air before she would ultimately lock herself away in Baldesion Annex for some bells. One breath into her staring, she heard a moogle cry desperately for her name. The postmoogle flew right behind her and said, "Phew, I'm glad I found you, Kupo!"

"Ah, what's this all about?"

"Forgive me, but a letter of strange origins appeared in my bag. The author who penned this missive left no name, but it's clearly marked for you, kupo."

"Oh. That's...weird, I guess. Thank you."

"Happy to be of service, kupopo!"

The moogle flew away with his little totebag and mail delivery hat in tow. Dia looked down to the letter and started investigating it with magic, checking that no curses laid beneath it. As she found it clear of such things, she used her fingers and pried open the envelope, pulled out the letter, and unfolded it.

"I know who your mother is, Dia Sito. Of course, that's not what she originally named you. The name you bear now is merely a combination of the name stitched to your baby blanket and your highlander father's last name, but I shan't confuse you further. If you wish for more information, then I would meet you halfway in Revenant's Toll today at 5:30, which as I understand it, is a haven for the adventuring type. Forgive me for the secrecy, but there are eyes and ears that I would wish to keep from prying into our affairs. Look for an Elezen in red and white."

The red ink that made this letter was clearly enchanted in some way, though for what purpose, Dia couldn't tell with an examination alone. Even if she could, the contents of the letter seized her every muscle in pure shock. She could only gawk in a dumbfounded stupor at the parchment.

The knowledge that she was raised by two fathers was not released publicly. For someone to have found this out, either someone betrayed her trust, or the less likely option:

That this letter told the truth...

No, that's ridiculous. This...how did they come to know this, though?

The post date was marked for today, so it must have been sent very recently. She crumpled the letter in her hand, stuffed it in her inventory, and marched up the stairs to the Baldesion Annex.

-------

I'm not going!

This has to be fake...right?

But then, how did they know about that?

But this could be something I would rather not get involved in.

Or maybe a trap for something bad!

But then...there might be information.

This person might have something to tell me...

Bah! Why should I care? She left me in a forest to fend for myself as a baby...

...right?

"Dia?"

Dia stopped arguing with herself and focused on the person. G'raha Tia stood next to her with a concerned look in his ruby red eyes. In his view, she was staring at the walls of Krile's study with great intensity. "Are you all right?"

"Oh. I must have been lost in thought. Sorry."

"I merely ask because you've seemed rather distracted this afternoon."

Dia sighed. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to impede on our agreement: I help with restoring the Students of Baldesion, you help me in my climate research."

"I am not so bound to the agreement as to not allow you some lenience. After what you've done, I would be foolish to believe that I could not trust you to keep your word."

Dia wore a slight smile at first, but it quickly shifted to a frown as a realization hit her:

It couldn't have been him, right?

G'raha was one of a few people privileged with this information, alongside Aymeric, Minfilia during the course of her life, Alphinaud, Alisaie, and Edmont. The dead can't speak, so Minfilia was out. This left five possible people who could have said something about this, even if it was an accident. Though she knew he would never tell her secrets on purpose, she also knew he wasn't exactly the most graceful of people.

"Dia, let me help you. You're clearly concerned about something."

"Oh gods...all right. Just...hold on a moment." She reached back in her inventory and removed the letter from her possession.

"Here, take a look at this."

G'raha took hold of the letter and tried to read it. "A...piece of parchment?"

"I was referring more to the contents contained in the parchment."

"I don't see what you mean. Is this a puzzle?"

Dia snatched the paper from his hands and looked at it intently. The red letters were there. "You don't see the message written here in red ink?"

"I didn't, I swear! If I may..."

G'raha reclaimed the letter and moved to Krile's desk. He took a closer look at the parchment in question, using his own magic to inspect it. "Ah...clever! This was written in a variation on invisibility ink, where the only people who can read this letter are the author and their intended reader."

"Wouldn't that require them to have interacted with my aether?"

"Yes. For this to have worked, chances are that you've met this person before. That, or they've come into possession of something of yours that has been in contact with your aether. It wouldn't take much to reverse engineer ink like this."

"I see..."

"Thankfully, it's not much of an ask to undo the enchantment placed here. But a moment..."

He hovered a hand over the letter once more. "Do you know what this starts with that I might ensure we're reading the same letter?"

"'I know'."

"Fantastic. What does the letter start with?"

"...'I know'..."

"I'm aware of that, but pray tell me how this letter started."

"I'm telling you, 'I know'!"

"Dia, is this a joke?"

"I'm not joking- it starts with 'I know'!"

G'raha smacked his hand against his face. "Ohhhh..."

Dia threw her head back and groaned to the heavens. He heaved a sigh, then went back to work. In a moment, the red ink revealed itself to G'raha's vision.

"There we are..."

He read through the contents, widening his eyes at the first few words alone.

"Ah...that would explain why you've been distracted..."

"Someone had to have told this person...that's the only thing I can think of."

"Well...there yet exists the possibility that--"

"Stop. Nope. Don't wanna hear it. It's not true. I refuse to believe it for even a moment."

"I wouldn't discount the possibility, Dia."

"I would. In fact, I already did."

"Do you have evidence to the contrary?"

"Nope. Don't need it. I can feel it."

G'raha sighed. "Let's say you're right and that this person has sent a scurrilous lie. Would you still go? After all, there's yet information to be found. Who wrote this? And why?"

"And that much has taken up a pretty significant amount of my attention."

He nodded. "Well, whatever choice you make, I'll stand by it. I know you'll make the right decision."

"Thanks for the faith."

------

In the end, Dia decided to meet the mysterious red and white Elezen. She thoroughly convinced herself that in this case, it would be better for her to have tried and be deceived than to never have any chance of knowing the truth. Despite being close to Mor Dhona in Ishgard, she hadn't seen the place in a while. She forgot how much aether ruled the atmosphere of the place.

It was 5:30 on the dot when Dia approached the aetheryte of Revenant's Toll. She looked to her left and to her right. Near the eastern entrance, an Elezen man with dark purple hair waving down behind his shoulders, wearing a red and white robe, stood alone. The second Dia noticed him, he walked out of the gate. Trying not to arouse suspicions, she walked out of the settlement nonchalantly and followed the trail made by his path.

He took her all the way to the eastern edge, where the path was blocked off by crystals, before he took to the northern path. Here, crystals of immense size had formed, sparking copious amounts of aether. She yet followed. If he was to give something sensitive like this, he would certainly want a way to ensure no one would be able to interfere in any form. The corrupted aether of the crystals to the north would undoubtedly aid in concealing the matter.

As she grew closer to her possible informant, she could feel the aether tingle against her skin. Her shadow grew red to match the crystals and the air felt harder to breathe in for her. As he reached the edge of a cliff, he stopped for a moment, giving Dia time to approach him.

Before she could come too close, however, he disappeared. Dia looked around in shock.

"What the--AHH!"

A force from nowhere pinned her to the orange crystals behind her. Before her very eyes did the Elezen reform and stare her down with a menacing sneer.

"When you see Master Albaleo in the seventh hell, tell him Emorel sent you."

As he spoke, the corrupted aether started infusing through her body. Her skin cried out in pain as though she were on fire, and she could have sworn her innards were melting. She screamed in pain, much to the pleasure of her torturer.

"Agh! How...what did you..."

It was then that his eyes glowed in a way she knew all too well.

"A Resonant", she gasped before returning to screaming.

"Your past was both enlightening and pathetic. Here, I thought the woman who would slay the famed Sadr rem Albeleo, Menenius' finest mage, had done more to achieve such power, but you? You didn't even earn it- it was bequeathed unto you by Hydaelyn. Your story was simply luck."

He drew closer to her. "I stumbled upon a vision of you when you invaded Castrum Lacus Litore, and sought my revenge at the fall of my master. 'Twas easy enough to find your little ramshackle cabin in the Twelveswood and pull what I needed."

Clutched in his hand was an old blanket. She knew it well. Against the relentless torment of pain coursing through her aether, she lifted up her left hand and grasped the blanket, struggling to let out the words, "That's...mine..."

His fingers stretched out to release the cloth blanket. "Hold it if you wish. You've precious few seconds left with it."

"You...saw her...didn't you?"

Emorel laughed a maniacal laugh. "What a way for you to go. I was convinced that engorging you with corrupted aether would be enough; a quick death that feels like an eternity for its victim. That you will die unsatisfied in your quest for knowledge, on top of all of this, is truly the sweetest plum. As I feed the aether into you, time will simply cease to exist, and you will know nothing of yourself anymore. Only a feeble link to your existence will remain before you perish."

And it was working. She barely felt solid anymore, but was somehow burning alive. Not a thought remained within her as the only thing she could focus on was keeping alive against the raging corruption. Her grip on reality was starting to fade as a familiar blackness washed over her vision.

The last thing she heard was a loud thud before she knew no more.

-------

Slowly, a room appeared in her sight- a room she knew too well as a visitor and as a patient. Dia found herself in the hospital in the Congregation. There was a heat against her hand. She turned her head to see what caused it, and found G'raha's hands holding hers.

"There you are", G'raha greeted her.

She groaned a bit as she sat up. After spending what felt like ages being a particularly loathsome jelly, the feeling of having limbs needed to be reintroduced.

"Captain Whitecape said he was able to remove the corrupted aether. You should feel that much."

"I do. Where did you..."

"I took a closer look at that enchanted letter. I noted that the ink used was distinctly Garlean in origin as it lacked the enchantment of our usual Eorzean ink, and the parchment was made of materials historically found in Dalmasca. Though plenty of conscripted thaumaturges exist within Garlean rank, few can possess the sort of magic that was used to enchant the ink to make it readable by you and only you.

Thus did I do some research into how this could have been, and found that Sadr rem Albaleo was amongst their ranks. Though he was reportedly slain by you in Castrum Lacus Litore, I still feared the worst and decided to follow unseen. I apologize for my deception, though I'm glad to have intervened against him."

Dia blinked as she processed what he said. "I...I'm glad you came when you did, really...what happened to Emorel?"

"I managed to interrupt his grip on you with my own knock-back. From there, I used a magic chain that restricted the flow of aether and kept him bound, and sought aid to bring both you and your captor to Ishgard. Though the crime had not taken place on Coerthan soil, Lord Aymeric certainly seemed not to mind holding him in a cell here in the Congregation while Slafborn works out the details of extradition of our mysterious sorcerer to Ishgardian custody. He asked me to keep an eye on you whilst he oversaw the interrogation."

"Ha", she laughed weakly, "Leave it to him."

G'raha leaned in towards her bed a bit and asked quietly, "How are you feeling?"

"Like a fucking idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Dia."

"I still feel like one. All the signs were right there, you know? I should have guessed nothing good was coming."

"You couldn't have known. It's not your fault."

"I don't know. Maybe I just...assumed that it had to be something bad for my mother to be involved. I know nothing of her other than the fact that she left me in a forest as a baby. Maybe it would have done something to know that she was secretly evil all along, but I don't know what..."

"Did you want your mother there? As a child, I mean?"

Dia shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. I had Hector and Oliver. That was enough for me and for the most part, they made me feel like I was enough. We were our little family."

G'raha smiled. "You had every right to be curious. Such a tempting thought to know the identity of those who brought you to be. But if you truly wish to lay that to rest, then I see well where worrying of such things would be a waste of energy."

Dia smiled back. "I'm dropping it and I'm never picking it up again. She could walk through my door and I'd just slam it shut." She swung her legs out of the side of the bed and attempted to stand up. "In the meantime, I should head downstairs and let him know I'm okay."

As she said that, one attempt at standing up led to her falling face first to the wooden floor beneath her. "Or I can just lie here. That's good, too."

G'raha jumped up and helped Dia back into the bed. "Okay, lesson learned", she declared, "I need to stretch before doing anything like walking. Thank you, G'raha."

"My pleasure."

--------

Downstairs, Emorel sat chained to a chair. He merely hummed an old song he knew and awaited something to happen. To his delight, something did happen- something he hoped very much would happen.

Aymeric stepped into the interrogation room and closed the door behind him. "Emorel is your name, then?" asked Aymeric.

"Yes. I must say, I've looked forward to meeting you since I realized I was in Ishgard, Lord Aymeric, Viscount of House Borel, Lord Speaker of Ishgard's House of Lords, bastard son of the former Archbishop Thordan VII..."

With a sneer, he added, "...and the lover of the Warrior of Light. Are you not honored?" Emorel asked dryly.

Aymeric kept up a stoic face. "What is your purpose in this hunt of yours?"

"Is it not obvious? I intended to return every last bit of suffering she inflicted on my master tenfold. For both of our sakes, I took the shorter route."

"Then you admit to your crime?"

"A crime in the eyes of your laws, perhaps, but I've certainly no regrets."

Emorel chuckled under his breath. "I wish you could have been there to hear her scream, Ayms."

"Do not call me that."

"Why not? That bloodthirsty bitch calls you that quite a bit."

"If your hope was to shock me, then you should know that I am fully aware of your powers as a Resonant."

His grin grew across his face. "Oh, I still see it, you know. She writhed like a worm and shrieked like a banshee. I reveled as the life slowly drained from her body. She couldn't move her legs. She couldn't hold her precious baby blanket anymore. Breath failed her. Color drained from her face. I never felt so good before that; I almost did what my master failed to do, even with the power of auracite. Would that that insufferable Miqo'te not shown up, I could have drawn it out for even longer. Listen to her voice go hoarse once again. Let her regain feeling only to burn it out of her again. Let her melt before me. She almost did."

Aymeric kept a stiff upper lip. He knew perfectly well that the mage was just trying to get under his skin, leave him unsettled. "You are to be tried in our court of law. Your testimony will be used against you. As you have admitted guilt, your sentence shall be decided shortly after."

"Ha! When I break out, you know what I'll do? I'll take a much slower route. All those dear friends of hers, scattered as they are...easy targets to pick one by one. Perhaps I'll start with those teenage Elezen she seemed so fond of...Alisaie? Alphinaud? I'll have difficulty picking who to slay first."

He hummed. "Down the line I will go, until I reach you. I'll save you for last, and utterly annihilate you in front of her very eyes. She'll beg for merciful death when I finish with you. And I would be all too glad to provide it."

"Before you grow overly fond of the idea of taking your vengeance against Mistress Sito, you are not the first mage that Ishgard has ever locked away, nor will you be the last. Little will remain to aid your escape."

Emorel cackled loudly. "Come now! I've seen Dia bare her naked body to you, and you would call her 'Mistress Sito'! Oh, how amusing. At any rate, little is all I need." He gasped. "How rude of me. I've not yet had the chance to find your mother. But a moment."

Emorel prepared to use his abilities to glimpse into his past. Nothing happened. His eyes did not glow and he seemed focused.

"But you can't, can you?" Aymeric asked.

In truth, Aymeric didn't expect the powers of his being a Resonant to fail him. He began theorizing that perhaps since the power is an imbued trait, the aether-tampering restraints could cut him off from his new abilities.

Emorel trained in, trying his best to call upon the power like he could before, but to no avail. His eyes squinted, his jaw clenched, and his body tightened as he tried to focus on calling forth the power of his artificial Echo. Nothing happened.

"Hah...haaahhhh...I feel it there...what sort of magic is this? It's there. It's there!"

His eyes glowed, but for only a second. They flickered on and off. Emorel's brain felt like it was on fire, his skull throbbing, and his body seizing up.

"I'll end you slowly and painfully!" Emorel shrieked. "I'll crush your bones and choke the life out of you with an iron grip against your throat!"

Aymeric finally showed fear, but not because of his words.

Emorel's eyes were bleeding. A red glow washed over him. "I'll see her wail and lament to her gods for mercy! I shall drink of her suffering and despair and gorge on her misery!"

Aymeric slowly backed away from the mage. Emorel's head rolled along his neck as he shrieked and cackled, the blood dripping from his eyes, the red aether growing worse and worse. There was a final loud shriek before his head fell limp, his face contorted in a twisted smile as his consciousness left him. Aymeric approached the body to confirm that the mage was indeed dead, and so it was that not a trace of life remained within him.

The Resonant must have been too much. With that, Aymeric left the body there and left to seek help for dealing with it, both from his own, and from one of the few that remained that might understand the effects of the Resonant that he knew. Krile must know something. Anything. All he remembered was that Zenos too was a Resonant, and returned in another body entirely. For everyone's sake, he couldn't let a vengeful Resonant return.

[awaylaughing]

I’ve been thinking on the why and how of Echo and Lettow leaving together at the end and what that means and looks like for them. This is long enough so it’s just the Why, mostly from Echo’s end though I’ll take a stab at why Lettow’s so relieved to see her at the ending.

Echo's motivations are pretty easy to pin down after a few minutes spent really thinking on it. People in-universe are probably inclined to think it’s one of those Ravnos compulsions: on paper “stay and get a real job and earn respect” vs “run off with a man still coping with the fact you ate his last lover” is totally taking the dicier option.

But the truth is, Echo’s not really a Camarilla sort at the end of the day; she's very much an independent with Anarch leanings. And beyond that she really doesn't have any particular political ambitions, one of the many reasons she didn't side with Julian is because she was uncomfortable with her integral nature to The Plan. So while sticking around to build infrastructure alongside Dove and co. would have been the more noble thing and the more sensible thing, it wasn't terribly appealing: she'd have done it if Lettow didn't let her on the plane but it was her option B for sure.

In addition, she and Dove would be great friends in an AU where Lettow's like "no, stay here" but they're not particularly close yet. She's also not yet friends with Carlos or Alexander; Julian she can't be friends with anymore; Raul and Vani split rather than just be her non-mind controlled pals; Elena's more of a quasi-business partner. Other than Rocket she doesn't have anyone or anything to really leave behind or keep her in place. Lettow’s a whole humanoid person though, who can have conversations and has always treated her with respect (Lettow’s first clan-dependant line to a Ravnos courier is to apologize for her loss re:Brian, to say that bought him so many brownie points with Echo really undersells it).

(Also sidebar: Julian's surprised to hear he hurt her. He didn't understand: if she agreed with him that they needed to gently bring the curtain down themselves on their own terms, why she was siding with the Camarilla. The answer was:

A) By supporting people like Lettow who can be reasoned with they have a chance to unite his vision with the Camarilla's in time, providing structure that can reach further than Arizona or the States

B) Basically every word out of his mouth about her since the Reremouse mission makes it clear to her that Julian does not hugely respect Echo, at least not enough to trust her with plans and shit, and she in turn doesn’t trust him to turn over a new leaf.

it was not C) to get in good with the Camarilla because clearly she gives no fucks about that beyond, her great relationship with them would be much worse if Lettow was any other Prince I’m pretty sure.)

But most importantly, more than the lack of strong ties to Tuscon, definitely more than her clan compulsion it’s just because she really likes Lettow and they very much have things to talk about but if he disappears into the Middle East he's an ocean away and who knows where doing who know what. Even if they split up once they reach Cairo, which I think they do, she's near enough she can track him down again once he's had his space to Deal With Stuff.

But if she stays in Tuscon...maybe she loses track of him forever. Maybe she makes it across the ocean in five years and there's no sign of him because he's hiding from the Sabbat, or his ancestor ate him the way Zapathsura ate most her clan. Or maybe things keep popping up and she never goes, he never comes back, and all the things to say never get said.

So going with Lettow is taking a chance, but it might be the time she chooses the lesser gamble despite being Ravnos.

As for why Lettow wants her to come along...I think in some ways he had dealt with a lot of the Aila feelings (not all of them, there is more processing to be done For Sure) and it was the torment of not understanding why Echo had done it that was making it such an acute problem: before he knew it was Echo it was just the general lack of answers. Closure and all that.

The big thing is just the other side of Echo’s concern though. He’s going east and he doesn’t fully know why or what’s waiting for him. Leaving Echo in Tuscon very much might mean leaving her forever, Echo appearing to say she is getting on that plane removes his culpability from taking her from something she wants (she does not want) and means they might get a chance to actually talk about things before Whatever happens.

Plus, I don’t think he particularly likes to be alone so having a buddy along probably just makes him happier regardless.

[haven-divinity]

Goretober 2024

Day 7: Eyes

Featured Character: Echo (Disney Planes)

Sometimes it really does hurt to not have control of your own powers….

[zigzagzoom94]

@grand-magnificent

i really like putting these 3 next to each other. there's a lot of cool throughlines / parallels / contrasts that are SO fun to think about... like their relationship to (doing) violence! expecially excited for wherever Cori is gonna end up by the end of this season. on one hand i love going 'yes!!! kill!!!' when she does something sick. on the other : ( oh no

(quote is from Marielda 10: Four Conversations. it's said to Sylvi's character that season, which is additionally neat :>)

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, praise, size kink, fıngering, dirty talk, oral fixation, mdni.

“easy, easy,” sukuna groans, having you laid on his broad, empty lap. you’re straddling him, chewing on your bottom lip as he’s knuckles deep into your drooling cunt. already, a clear sheet of slick coats down a single finger of his and you’re twitching from his hold. a cocky grin paints against his lips as one of his free hands attach to your waist. “ah, c’mon. not that bad. ‘s just one finger, princess.”

“y- your fingers are s-so thick, ‘kuna,” you babble out in broken words, and it doesn’t take long before your muscles tighten. indeed, he had much length to his fingers. he was easing you up because just moments ago, you insisted on how you could easily take him on the first try. of course, he decided to help you out anyway, finding amusement in how you’re already about to gush out from just a single digit. the stretch was immaculate, your tummy churns in a line of zig zags as you feel him slowly insert yet another finger inside. “fuck, ‘s long.”

with a breathy chortle, he makes you slump forward into his chest. “such a weak girl,” and his voice pitches against your ear — his breath, hot and fanning near the soft lobe of your ear. “if you can barely handle two fingers, what makes you think you can take two of my cocks, little one?”

your moans become more loud, echoing through the bouncy walls of his devilish, isolated chambers.

your body fails to remain still, grinding against his hand directly underneath you. “k- kunaaa,” you huff, your own jaw becoming loose and dangling itself agape.

it was so delicious . . the stretch, oh the stretch,

the way his two fingers curl into a salacious circular motion, rotating around the goopy insides of your sopping pussy. you were weak, so so weak.

he groans, hearing the slosh slosh squelches your own mess sings from the impact. “hah, ‘s good. i can take one more, please.”

chuckling, his lips press against your forehead. “hm, dunno. maybe i should take ‘em out..”

“s- sukuna,” you whimper, hearing him snickering at your desperate plea. your walls were more clingy than you were on a daily basis, sticking against the texture of his fingers like glue. with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you gasp once you feel the alleviated pressure arise furthermore. “pleaseplease, more. i can take another finger. need another finger.”

“girl,” he snarls, a single fang baring and you jolt into his chest once he spanks your pussy once.

the brief sting that follows makes you throb and it scratches such a good itch in your brain. “what did i tell ya? you don’t need, you want. repeat that sentence for me, pretty.”

“i— i want another finger inside,” you correct yourself, your eye twitching at his familiar sass. sukuna remained seated on his notorious throne, sexily manspread with you on top of him also. your legs felt like mush practically, and the stimulation has you swooning for more. gasping, you bite down on the breaking skin of your lip once more. “want it, ryo. want you.”

“good grief, does fingering make ya forget manners too?” he slyly grins, ruby red eyes peering into the depths of your precious soul.

you sigh, knowing what that meant. as he’s still got two fingers tucked away deeply into your cunt, your arms sling over his tense shoulders. “p- please.”

“atta girllll,” he praises, another one of his hands tugging against the fabric of your blouse.

as you still make a cute attempt at rocking your hips against his lap. he slowly inserts another thick finger inside. tightening around each one individually, you whine before your entire body jitters.

sukuna chuckles deeply against your ear, feeling the claws of your nails seep into the flesh of his arm. “oooh, so three is the limit. i see,” and within three seconds, his digits pull out of your cunt. a slimey string of your filth sticks against his fingers. as he looks down with an utmost hungry gaze, he brings his fingers up to his mouth before sniffing them.

“mhm,” and with glossy eyes, you stare as the demon pops his three fingers right into his mouth. you’re still taking your seat on his lap, watching as his forked tongue devours your enchanted taste. slit eyebrows furrow in arousal before he takes it back out, bringing his fingers toward your quavering lips. “open. taste it, girl,” and as your lips happily part, he slides two fingers inside your mouth, watching you suck against them. he groans, imagining you were putting your cute throat to use on his cock— not his fingers. your pink tongue swishes around, curling against the digits and you taste the bitter taste of your own sweet. “messy fuckin’ woman. taste how dirty you are for me? yeahhh, lick it all up ‘cause ‘m gonna put ‘em right back in. gotta train this weak cunt for the real thing.”

your head bobbles a bit— every few seconds sukuna’s lengthy fingers would thrash back against your uvula, causing you to almost gag. as you lick them clean, tasting his own syrupy saliva in the process, he quickly pulls them out before stuffing them right back into your greedy cunt as promised.

sukuna raises a brow as your head lowers onto his chest. “eh,” and as your tongue playfully licks against his neglected nipples, his breath hitches. you catch him off guard and he grunts at the suddenly sensitivity. “fuck are ya doin’ brat. didn’t tell you to s-suck on . . mhm, those.”

he doesn’t exactly pull you away.

instead, he drags your head closer, looking down embarrassed as your mouth latches onto his thickset pecs like a leech.

it felt odd, strangely new.

you’re sucking against his swollen perky nipples, lolling your tongue around before that’s when he abruptly pulls you off. with a new look of neediness in his eyes, sukuna watches as a trail of your own spit departs from his nipples. you leer back up at him with a teasing grin forming on your lips and he scoffs.

sukuna ryōmen was flustered..

“y’er .. fuckin’ weird,” he grouses, and once he sees your growing simper, he uses a hand to make your head move back toward its former placement near his now dampened pecs.

“keep .. doin’ that. never told ya to stop, little girl. phew, i- i liked that.”

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

[rafey-baby]

cw: bf!rafe being obsessed with reader’s tits while she’s riding him, use of daddy, Topper texts in the middle of it, fluffy undertones

wc: 740

inspired by this ask

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Just like that, Baby. There you go,” Rafe pants while he’s pawing at her waist as she stretches around his cock tucked deep inside her; hitting the spongy spot inside her with every roll of her hips on top of him on their couch. 

Their moans and grunts echo around the living room and a brief thought about him having to be somewhere else crosses his mind when he blinks. However, it’s quickly forgotten when his eyes flicker over to her tits bouncing up and down right in front of his face; enticing him, tempting him like cocaine. 

Therefore, he has no choice but to let his fingers greedily pluck at the straps of her tank top; letting them fall down her shoulders and exposing her tits for his hungry mouth. He gropes the left one with his big hand and sloppily mouths at the other; pressing open-mouthed kisses on the plump flesh, soft lips brushing against her sensitive skin.

“Shit, they’re fucking perfect, huh?” His words are slurred, eyes half-lidded and he thinks he could stay like this forever. 

She lets out a loud noise when he sucks her nipple between his lips; tongue playing with the puffy bud and rolling his thumb over the other one. 

“Yeah? That feel nice? Needed Daddy to pay some attention to his girls?” He croons against her tits; breath tickling her tender skin.

She whimpers in response, fluttering around his cock that presses harder into her tight hole when he lifts his own hips upwards; helping her out when he notices her thighs beginning to grow sore. 

He nuzzles his face against her breasts; groaning out against her skin when she squeezes around him, hands grabbling at his biceps in their pursuit of some form of solidity. 

“Taking me so well, huh?” He laves his tongue over a nipple before he’s grazing his teeth against it; playfully biting down and eliciting an overwhelmed shriek from her. 

“Ray…” she whines, feeling her orgasm approaching with each thrust of his hips meeting her own. 

“Hm?” He hums around the button but before she can open her mouth, his phone buzzes on the couch cushion next to them. 

He doesn’t even hear it; far too bewitched by her body for anything else to drift to the forefront of his mind. It vibrates with another message soon after and that’s when she turns to look at the screen that lights up with four new notifications. 

“It’s Topper,” she mumbles, halting her movements momentarily. 

“Huh?” His question is muffled against her flesh. 

“He’s texting you,” she picks up the phone and hands it to him. 

“Don’t really give a shit,” he tries to dismiss her, hands grabbing at her hips and trying to get her to continue moving but she stays rooted in her spot. 

“You should answer, maybe it’s important,” she insists, tone unwavering. 

“Top has never texted me about anything important,” he argues, pulling away from her with a crease between his brows; tentatively taking the device and flitting his eyes over the words.  

Top

Yo Rafe

Where are u? 

Me and Kelce are waiting for u at the island club 

U coming or? 

“You’re such a little devil, yeah? Made me forget about my fucking plans,” he murmurs teasingly; squeezing her thigh as he types out a response.

Shit, my bad

Kinda busy playing w my girls atm

Topper’s answer is immediate. 

Top

What girls?

Oh..

She looks down at the messages when a chuckle rumbles from his chest. 

“Rafe, why would you say that?” She complains with a pout molding her mouth. However, he merely offers her an infuriating grin as he locks the device, about to throw it on the coffee table before her fingers wrap around his wrist. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna say anything else?” She sounds almost worried, never the one to enjoy being rude to others. 

He thinks she’s too much of a polite sweetheart sometimes as he playfully rolls his eyes; fingers reluctantly gliding over the keyboard once again.

Maybe next time? 

Top

Yeah, whatever. Have fun

“Happy now?” He scrunches his nose at her, turning the do not disturb mode on before finally setting the phone down and gracing her with his undivided attention once more. 

“Very happy,” her smile is contagious when she takes ahold of his jaw; leaning down to press a honeyed kiss on his lips and swallowing his grunt when she shifts against him in a thank you.

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”