#just let things go or ask without assumptions

[dragonmasterhiccup]

"Really?" A wide smile was on his face, "Thank you! Yeah, I'd love that, actually!" Axel would be the best to learn from. Not just because he ran the wood mill, but also because he would be Hiccup's father in law. "I won't let you down!"

The last raid? The last one he'd experienced was when he lost his fin. Another must have happened while he was in the ocean.

"I'm glad there wasn't any damage, that everyone is alright. I'll figure out a few ways to prevent the attacks, stop them before they even start. It'll take some time, but... it's not impossible."

Axel's words brought a mix of emotions: joy, excitement, but also nerves. He looked to Phlegma for confirmation, and she nodded. "I see the way Astrid looks at you, lad. I see the way you look at her. You have my blessing."

Hiccup didn't need to say anything, the look on his face said it all, but he still thanked them both. "I never thought I'd be this happy," he told them, "Astrid...she's changed everything for me, and I don't know what I'd do without her. She's...she's amazing."

The merman knew without a doubt that Astrid would say yes. Still, he wasn't going to do anything based on assumptions. He would ask her properly, she deserved at least that.

As she wrapped her arms around his waist, he placed his hand over hers, still listening to Axel.

The word 'property' confused him. Astrid was considered property? That didn't seem right. Still, he stayed quiet, listening as his future father in law continued.

"No, not scaring..." The rest of it made enough sense. "Well...let me talk with my dad. He listened to Astrid, she was able to change his mind on humans. If he doesn't want to take part in the negotiations, then I'll do it." Just like with building a home, he wanted to make sure things were done right.

Hiccup couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the mention of Astrid being his property. He could see himself as her partner, her equal. Not... practically owning her. It seemed wrong.

However, Axel's next comment caused Hiccup to blush a deep red. Clearing his throat, he shook his head, his gaze averted, "Smart, yes. Mhmm."

"Each pod has it's own union traditions. If merfolk are allowed to attend our Viking wedding, that should be more than enough for them to recognize our marriage. I'll have to double check, but I think that's how it'll go."

Whenever they're ready... The home, the dowry, and a job for Hiccup had to be in order first though. He wanted to be ready now, but he had to be patient.

"Uh...I, I don't think I have any questions, except... Can I no longer sleep in the wash basin?"

Phlegma chuckled, "Of course not, dear. We'll make the couch up for you in the meantime."

"Thanks! I guess that just leaves one thing, then..." He turned, adjusting himself so he could see Astrid. "How are you feeling? Better?"

Hiccup wanted to ask her to marry him, but he needed to do a few things first. Sort things out with his father, get those pearls...and make sure she recovered. "You gave me a good scare, back there."

After a long training session, all Astrid wanted to do was cool off on the beach. Maybe a tiny swim, even though the ocean was so cold at this time of year. She pushed through the brush and staggered down to the shore.

Only to find a boy lounging in the shallows.

“Oh!” She dropped her axe in the sand. From his bare torso, she assumed he was naked. “Sorry! I didn’t know someone else would be…here…” as the apologies flowed, she realized from the waist down, he had green scales and a pair of fins.

No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“No way…” she inched closer. “A real mermaid! In the flesh! Are the stories true?” She stamped down her overwhelming curiosity for a moment to give him a stern point. “Don’t try anything fishy, mermaid. I’m very capable of protecting myself, got it?”

((I saw the prompt and went feral, hope you don’t mind))

[X]

Hiccup started, the water around him splashing as he sat up straight in surprise, before he moved a little further back, his cheeks flushed.

"No, sorry, I, I shouldn't--" Ducking his head, the merman awkwardly held up a hand, "Usually no one comes here..."

But his movements only caused his tail to briefly break the surface, emerald scales glittering in the sun for a moment before dipping below the water again.

Firmly, he responded, "Merman. I am a merman. And no, don't worry, I, I wasn't going to try anything...I know you'd probably kill me if I did..."

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair, which had partially dried in his time sitting in the shallow water. "What, what stories are you referring to?"

He knew, or at least had a gut feeling about what she was asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. She appeared wary, but not fearful. Maybe these humans didn't have the same fears of his kind like the others?

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

So, what do you think of that frog plushie with Gabriel's voice? The idea is heartwarming, but it was only introduced after Gabriel died a terrible father.

For those not watching season six, the scene in question comes at the start of El Toro De Piedra. Marinette and Adrien are going through a box of items from when Adrien was six which leads to this:

Adrien: Woah hey Froggy! (He pulls out a frog plushie from the box) I love this plushie! (Adrien squeezes the plush it plays a sound mimicking Gabriel's voice) Froggy (toy): Knock knock. Adrien: Who's there? Froggy (toy): Papa. Adrien: Papa who? Froggy(toy): Papa corn. Adrien: I forget it did that. Marinette: That was your father's voice? Adrien: Yes. When I was a kid he could always make me laugh and then he started travelling... Thank you Marinette it's nice reminiscing about Papa corn.

Frankly, the plushie thing just confused and annoyed me because it's another example of season six's baffling writing around Gabriel. When they decided to have Marinette lie and present Gabriel as a hero to everyone, I assumed that they were going to lean into that and have Adrien view his father as a hero, too. That's not what they're doing though. The episode starts with the above scene and ends with this:

Adrien: Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...things were so hard with dad in recent years. How did he go from Papa Corn to father....I wish could face him like Ivan said and understand, but when he was still here I didn't try and tell him anything and now it's too late. Still I'm glad I got to remember Papa corn today thanks to you.

So the plushie is used to allow Adrien to remember what Gabriel was like before Emilie got sick leading to a scene where Adrien laments that his father drastically changed, causing them to have a strained relationship that never got resolved. At no point does Adrien talk about looking up to his father or viewing him as a hero. He even compares Gabriel to Ivan's father Raul who is a known supervillain. I look at that and go, "Why are we bothering with the lies if the writing is going this nuanced route with Adrien? Why let him have these complex feelings about his father if you're keeping him in the dark on the supervillain stuff? What's the end game here?"

Seriously, look at the above and ask yourself what would need to change if Adrien knew the truth. I think Adrien would need to be more conflicted, but that's about it as far as changes go. You could still have him remember good times with his father, be sad that those good times ended, and wish that he understood his father better. He's processing the Gabriel trauma just without the full picture and - as a viewer - it's both bizarre and upsetting! Seeing Adrien go through the grieving process knowing that it's all going to reset when he finds out the truth is aggravating!

Of course that's assuming that he learns the truth and grieves again which are big assumptions. I genuinely have no idea what this show is planning to do with the lies because the writing around them is so baffling! I also don't really care anymore. It's all so stupid and pointless that every new twist in canon just makes me go, "Sure, why not. Throw that BS in the mix, too. It makes about as much sense as the rest of this nonsense."

Speaking of BS, the plushie reveal annoyed me for another reason! A while back, I talked through the flashbacks in Werepapas and how they massively retconned the timeline for Emilie getting sick. El Toro De Piedra takes that retcon and seems to retcon it again because the plushie is explicitly from when Adrien was six and Adrien says:

Adrien: Yes. When I was a kid he could always make me laugh and then he started travelling... Thank you Marinette it's nice reminiscing about Papa corn.

But in Werepapas a young Adrien says:

Adrien: Does that mean that daddy doesn't love me? Émilie: Why would you say that? Adrien: Because we never see daddy. He's never here.

Oh, and just for fun, it doesn't fit this line from Origins either:

Adrien:(gets up while still holding Plagg) My dad's pranking me, right? Wait, he couldn't be. He has no sense of humor.

Or the fact that Emilie was supposed to be the one with the sense of humor or at least so said Feast:

Adrien: Mom's the only one who could make me laugh like that. Thank you, Plagg.

Consistency!!! (Yes, I'm salty that they're not embracing Emilie as the jokester. It's one of my favorite headcanons that I only have because of the scene from Feast. It was a nice way to hint at her having an actual personality plus I loved the idea of the mom being the funny one instead of the dad.)

Moving on!

My main point here is that we don't know Adrien's age in Werepapas, but it can't be much older than six, but now we're being told that Gabriel was an active father when Adrien was six which means that I'm once again totally lost as to what the timeline is for the Agreste plot. I also no longer care. I'm not putting more effort into this than the writers.

[vijigenshin]

Venti headcanon alphabet!

Kinda important note? I do like following Canon closely for these so while they are definitely heacanons, to me these are closer to educated guesses ^^

A-nger: How do they handle their anger?

Venti handles anger with grace 99 percent of the time. The only times we see him 'give into' anger, or even just annoyance feels deliberate. Like I refuse to believe he'd let slip to Diluc that he's "way older than him" (paraphrasing a direct quote from the quest where we steal the holy lyre) in such a dire situation just because he got mildly annoyed by being told he looks too young to drink.

I think Mondstatd and or it's citizens itself would have to be in severe danger to actually piss him off, and even then I definitely think Venti goes full Barbatos mode and just silently deals with the threat. His anger turns into determination very quickly.

B-etter: How have they, or how would they go about bettering themselves?

This is a question that depends on what exactly happened during the cataclysm on Khaenr'iah.

Under the assumption and my personal theory that Venti had little choice in participating in Khaenr'iah, which is implied through a few different things.

Zhongli's contract with celestial in regards to the cataclysm, a contract that makes it so he cannot speak on the matter at all, and which seems to take HEAVY advantage of Zhongli's role as the archon of contracts and therefore implies he might have been in someway coerced into said contract.

Venti's subtle but active dislike(distain) for celestia, referenced in a voiceline when Traveler asks abt it.

And the unspoken inability for the archon to go against their stated epithets. Throughout Genshin the archons time and time again for whatever reason seem to be unable to go against their secondary epithets/title.

Zhongli agrees to and stays true to contracts even when breaching them would be more beneficial in the long run.

Ei adhered to the concept of eternity even when it was actively hurting her people and she only stopped when her concept of eternity was redefined as opposed to giving up on eternity whole sale.

Nahida gave up the gnosis in exchange for wisdom/knowledge even though she actively despised Dottore.

If we assume the archons can't go against one of their own key principles, then Venti as the archon of Freedom would never support much less participate in the calamity of Khaenr'iah. I could see him maybe not getting involved, but I can also see him wanting Monatadt to be truly free from all rule, which would include celestia. If anything Venti would want to fight with Khaenr'iah.

Unless Venti was forced.

Celestia is incredibly powerful, and we know by the celestial nails AND the heavenly principles that they have no problem imposing their power onto entire nations. I genuinely believe that celestia threatened Mondstatd in some way, likely by using Venti's own title against him by threatening a forced monarchy onto Monstadt.

I honestly don't think Venti would participate in the cataclysm willingly. I think the closest you'd get is him participating without goading from celestia, but still being motivated by fear of what they'd do to Mondstadt.

Regardless on if you believe my take or not, I think in Canon we see Venti bettering himself. I think his disapproval of celestia and the implications of him willingly giving Singora his gnosis (only pretending to protect himself) is enough to tell us he stands with the Tsarista, who is motivated by the fall of Khaenr'iah in some way, and is seemingly collecting the gnosis to inevitably wage war against celestia.

I think regardless on if he willingly participated or not, I think Venti feels very guilty, and is doing all he can to support the inevitable war whilst also keeping Monstadt safe.

C-hange: How much have they changed? Is it for the better or worse?

This one is really odd to answer since we don't have a full picture on how the archons as a whole used to be.

I don't think that as much as people joke about Venti being lazy, ditzy, and an all around absent archon that he DID start out that way. He was a wind spirit, just a little whisp guy as jovial and free from responsibility as can be. I think the Venti persona we currently get is a reflection on how he started out and how he wishes he could truly be.

D-aily: What’s their daily routine?

We actually get a tiny Canon glimpse of this in his birthday art!

Where he has a house... or an apartment...

Ok I know I said I followed Canon but this is one of two Canon features I do not engage with out if pure selfish indulgence.

In my world view the bard does not have a house dammit.

Anyway.

Venti doesn't have a routine, he literally and figuratively goes with the wind. Sometimes he wakes up at 5 am, others it's 5 pm. He does always make a point to give Mondstadt a look over at least once a day, just to make sure everything is alright. He also always does his braids, it used to be a sacred point for him, but the longer he spent in the nameless band's body the more he just accepted it as his own body in multiple ways, so now he does his braids mostly out of habit.

Tries to talk with Dhalia once a week, tries to drink once a week, but neither are fully concrete.

Might do more of this ltr, might not. Yell at me if there's spelling mistakes pls.

[luvcaleb]

SHH... WE CAN'T GET CAUGHT.

nsfw (18+). includes fingering, breast play, dirty talk, huge cock, unprotected sex, creampie, fwb relationship (it's pretty obvious you like each other tho), mentions of your first time experience with caleb (and other times after that), having sex when another person is just a few rooms away, too much cum, slight praise kink. filthy, filthy, filthy smut from top to bottom. likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

“Shh... you don't want Gran hearing us, do you?”

You're covering your mouth to stifle your whimpers, but there's no hiding the wet squelches beneath the blanket. You wrap your hand around Caleb's flicking wrist, his fingers buried deep inside your cunt. When he adds another digit, a loud cry of his name is pulled out of you.

Caleb presses a soft kiss against your nape. You're both turned on your sides, your back against his solid chest. “As much as I like hearing you say my name, it'd be a problem if someone came to interrupt us. Remember the last time?”

The last time he's referring to is your risky tryst from a few days back; Caleb joined you in your bath, claiming he wants to “wash your back” for you. As expected, 20% of your time was spent in a relaxing soak where he massaged your shoulders and washed your hair, and the remaining 80% was spent with his head between your legs, coaxing out wave after wave of cum with his fingers and tongue.

The tip of his cock was already inside you when a knock on your door interrupted you, your grandmother asking if you knew where Caleb went because he wasn't in his room. Needless to say, you had to stop what you were doing and Caleb had a difficult time sneaking out of the bathroom.

“That... mmph... and this... is all your fault...” you struggle to say while biting back your moans as he grinds his fingers against a good spot, his thumb flicking at your clit. Caleb has always been too good with his hands. “You always—ah!—do this even when there are other people around...!”

“You wanna know why?” Chuckling, Caleb leans closer to whisper to your ear, lips brushing over your soft skin. “You squeeze me so fucking tight when we're about to get caught.”

You gush around his fingers as he mouths on the shell of your ear, moaning into the palm of your hand. He hums in satisfaction, pulling out his hand from your panties to admire the stringy release between his fingers. “You always cum too fast, pipsqueak. You pent up these days?”

How on earth could you possibly be pent up when you've been fucking Caleb at every opportunity? Every time you're left alone at the house, he fucks you against any flat surface he can find—the door when he's too impatient to go to your room, the bathroom sink because he likes making you watch yourself in the mirror when he's fucking you stupid, and even ate you out on the kitchen countertop at some point.

But the thing is, Caleb is undaunted by the possibility of being caught. So even when your Gran is around, he sneaks into your bedroom to fool around, just like what he's doing now under the pretense of “we watched a horror movie today, aren't you scared to sleep alone?”

Evidently, Caleb has no intention of letting you sleep tonight. He fondles your tits beneath your shirt, the tent in his sweatpants grinding against your clothed ass. “Don't pretend like you're innocent,” he mutters, making you yelp when he pinches your nipple. “You strutted around all day wearing my shirt without a bra, bending down in front of me on purpose... Did you know how hard it was to hold back from fucking you on the spot?”

“T-that was...!” Your cheeks flush with warmth. Sure, you were kind of riling him up on purpose, but that was under the assumption you'd be alone tonight.

“This ass...” he rubs you above your shorts, groaning as he palms at the soft flesh. “...was in my mind the entire fucking day. I held myself back until now, but I can't hold back anymore, fuck.”

He strips you off of your clothes, only leaving his shirt scrunched up above your breasts. He pulls down his sweatpants, and you feel his huge cock slap against your lower back, his pre-cum smearing across your skin. He holds the back of your knee to raise your leg, positioning his cock to your soaked pussy.

“Been waiting for this for so fucking long... Oh, shiiit,” he moans, long and drawn out and dirty as he slides right home, the tip of his dick pounding at your cervix. You squeal into your hand, your cunt clamping down on his cock so tightly but it doesn't deter his fast pace at all.

He reaches so deep like this, hitting spots he normally couldn't when you're in missionary. His huge cock feels like it's carving its own space into your body, coring you out from the inside, and it feels so good that you can't hold back your voice at all.

“Nn... Don't do that,” Caleb pulls away your hand from your mouth when he notices you biting down on your skin to hide your moans. He replaces it by putting his fingers in your mouth, cooing softly to your ear, “Suck. You're going to hurt yourself.”

You suck on his fingers, eyes rolling back to your head as he continues to pound you, fucking your pussy so good. Only Caleb knows how to make you feel so much pleasure to the point you can't think properly anymore. Your fingers could never hope to reach the places his cock touches.

It's how this twisted relationship started in the first place, Caleb catching you touching yourself when you forgot to lock your door. He taught you how to make yourself cum because you didn't know anything, until all you knew was him and his cock. But he was too big the first time you took him in that he had to fuck you loose with four fingers, sucking and licking at your pussy to make you wet enough to accept his thick girth and length. Now, he could slide inside you easily, your body having taken his shape.

Caleb stares at your messy face, utterly endeared. “Fuck, you're so fucking cute...” He takes out his fingers from your mouth, using them to tilt your jaw to meet his lips. He kisses you sloppy, no finesse as you slide your tongue against his, moaning into each other's mouths.  “Mm... open your mouth more... yeah, that's it, baby... good fucking girl...”

“Ah, fuck, Caleb!” you sob, desperately rocking against his cock. “I'm gonna cum, cumming, I can't anymore...!”

“You're gonna cum?” Caleb stops thrusting, making you whine and attempt to move yourself, but he holds onto your hips and pushes you into the mattress, laying you flat on the sheets on your front. He settles behind you, using his weight to pound you to the mattress harder. “Then fucking cum.”

You moan uncontrollably into the pillows, completely forgetting you're meant to stay quiet. Caleb fucks his cock harder, faster, deeper, failing to hold back his own grunts as you tighten up around him, wet heat melting around his dick. “Shit, I'm gonna cum too... I'm gonna cum hard in your slutty fucking pussy... fuck, I'm cumming!”

You squirt around his cock as he fills you up with cum, your fluids making a mess between your bodies and the sheets. You don't realize you're crying out up until Caleb grabs your chin and kisses you once more, muffling the lewd moans you're letting out while he's still cumming inside you, hot and thick. He gives you tiny, slowing thrusts, cock still spurting out semen. “Oh, baby, you did so good...” he sucks on your bottom lip, staring intently at your orgasm face. “Such a good fucking girl for me...”

“So... full...” is the only thing you can say, feeling the sheer volume of one load of his cum in your pussy, warming you from the inside.

“Not full enough, baby.” Caleb peppers your face with kisses. It is then that you realize—with no small amount of fear and arousal—his cock hasn't softened at all. “I still have a lot to give you.”

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

🍖 How to Build a Culture Without Just Inventing Spices and Necklaces

(a worldbuilding roast. with love.)

So. You’re building a fantasy world, and you’ve just invented: → Three types of ceremonial jewelry → A spice that tastes like cinnamon if it were bitter and cursed → A holiday where everyone wears gold and screams at dawn

Cute. But that’s not culture. That’s aesthetics.

And if your worldbuilding is all outfits, dances, and spice blends with vaguely mystical names, your story’s probably going to feel like a cosplay convention held inside a Pinterest board.

Here’s how to fix that—aka: how to build a real, functioning culture that shapes your story, not just its vibes.

─────── ✦ ───────

🔗 Culture Is Built on Power, Not Just Style

Ask yourself: → Who’s in charge, and why? → Who has land? Who doesn’t? → What’s considered taboo, sacred, or punishable by death?

Culture is shaped by who gets to make the rules and who gets crushed by them. That’s where things like religion, family structure, class divisions, gender roles, and social expectations actually come from.

Start there. Not at the embroidery.

─────── ✦ ───────

2.🪓 Culture Comes From Conflict

Did this society evolve peacefully? Was it colonized? Did it colonize? Was it rebuilt after a war? Is it still in one?

→ What was destroyed and mythologized? → What do the survivors still whisper about? → What do children get taught in school that’s… suspiciously sanitized?

No culture is neutral. Every tradition has a history, and that history should taste like blood, loss, or propaganda.

─────── ✦ ───────

3.🧠 Belief Systems > Customs Lists

Sure, rituals and holidays are cool. But what do people believe about: → Death? → Love? → Time? → The natural world? → Justice?

Example: A society that believes time is cyclical vs. one that sees time as linear will approach everything—from prison sentences to grief—completely differently.

You don’t need to invent 80 gods. You need to know what those gods mean to the people who pray to them.

─────── ✦ ───────

4.🫀 Culture Controls Behavior (Quietly)

Culture shows up in: → What people apologize for → What insults cut deepest → What people are embarrassed about → What’s praised publicly vs. what’s hidden privately

For instance: → A culture obsessed with stoicism won’t say “I love you.” They’ll say “Have you eaten?” → A culture built on legacy might prioritize ancestor veneration, archival writing, name inheritance.

This stuff? Way more immersive than giving everyone matching earrings.

─────── ✦ ───────

5. 🏠 Culture = Daily Life, Not Just Festivals

Sure, your MC might attend a funeral where people paint their faces blue. But what about: → Breakfast routines? → How people greet each other on the street? → Who cooks, and who eats first? → What’s considered “clean” or “proper”? → How is parenting handled? Divorce?

Culture is what happens between plot points. It should shape your character’s assumptions, language, fears, and habits—whether or not a festival is going on.

─────── ✦ ───────

6. 💬 Let Your Characters Disagree With Their Own Culture

A culture isn’t a monolith.

Even in deeply traditional societies, people: → Rebel → Question → Break rules → Misinterpret laws → Mock sacred things → Act hypocritically → Weaponize or resist what’s expected

Let your characters wrestle with the culture around them. That’s where realism (and tension) lives.

─────── ✦ ───────

7.🧼 Beware the “Pretty = Good” Trap

Worldbuilding gets boring fast when: → The protagonist’s homeland is beautiful and pure → The enemy’s culture is dark and “barbaric” → Every detail just reinforces who the reader should like

You can—and should—challenge the aesthetic hierarchy. → Let ugly things be beloved. → Let beautiful things be corrupt. → Let your MC romanticize their culture and then get disillusioned by it later.

─────── ✦ ───────

📍 TL;DR (but like, spicy): → Culture is not food and jewelry. → Culture is power, fear, memory, contradiction. → Stop inventing spices until you know who starved last winter. → Let your world feel lived in, not curated.

The best cultural worldbuilding doesn’t look like a list. It feels like a system. A pressure. A presence your characters can’t escape—even if they try.

Now go. Build something real. (You can add spices later.)

—rin t. // writing advice for worldbuilders with rage and range // thewriteadviceforwriters

Sometimes the problem isn’t your plot. It’s your first 5 pages. Fix it here → 🖤 Free eBook: 5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making:

🕯️ download the pack & write something cursed:

[shotmrmiller]

getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

[amaranthinespirit]

Hi! Request for the husband!simon and murderer!reader, your latest post mentioned we've never killed a woman.

But what if Simon comes home to another one of your killings but this time it's a barista/or just a woman who wouldn't get the hint that Simon is happily married.

husband!simon riley discovering your latest kill is the barista from his favorite coffee shop

simon has a certain coffee shop he frequents to get his morning coffee—typically when he wants to let you sleep in because he prefers you to make his coffee to him. you just have a magic touch.

the coffee shop is the next best thing, and while it's not quite as good as how his sweet wife makes it, it'll do. sometimes, on his way home, he'll stop and grab you a sweet drink and a treat—you'll need the energy for later.

but lately, he's noticed this one barista in particular that just won't get the hint he has a ring on his finger and a perfect wife at home to match it.

sure, the barista is pretty—but not to his standards. everyone pales in comparison to you. he worships the ground you walk on and kisses your feet.

every day he goes in, and she's there, she won't miss the opportunity to tighten her apron around her waist, bat her lashes while biting her thin bottom lip, and speak with a sweet voice that makes his stomach roll. (he prefers his wife in an apron—typically because she doesn't wear anything under it when he asks her).

she leaves hearts on his to-go cups that he disposes of once he transfers it to a tumbler with a kiss print on the outside from your red lipstick. she gives him her employee discount. more money to spend on equipment to dispose of your bodies, not the tip jar.

simon ignores all of this, but he also doesn't tell you. he figures you're already stressed as is and doesn't want to add a petulant and persistent twenty-something girl to the mix.

next thing he knows, she's scribbled her number on his cup, encased in a heart. he knew they had to write personal messages to increase customer connection, but this seemed a bit of a reach.

i mean, come on. 'xxx-xxx-xxxx call me x' is a little excessive.

he scowled at it, resisting the urge to squish the cup under his palm. he turned away without another word, but he did send you a picture this time before promptly throwing it away—the coffee still inside. who knew what she had done to it.

simon didn't question when you wanted to know her name. meek curiosity, he assumed, but what an incorrect assumption it was.

arriving home was always a guessing game because you don't tell him when you've lured another man to his demise. don't wanna keep records of it, simon would tell you. just in case.

every day, he'd take a guess on if you've killed or not. so far, he hasn't been wrong. maybe he can just tell whenever you're in that type of mood, but his reward is giving you the same number of orgasms as his streak. he's currently at nine.

when he pulled into the driveway, he was thinking that he would find a large body belonging to a man, too close to your rug—which he would scold you about by edging you mercilessly.

what he wasn't expecting was the body of the barista that always flirted with him, and you wielding a knife as you stared at him like it was his turn.

boy, did that make him hard.

standing there with a bloodied hand on your hip, red dripping from the knife as you waved it slowly back and forth through the air, as if taunting him. "got something to explain, si?"

his expression contorted to one of confusion, looking between you and the body before relaxing with a chuckle. "jealous, luv?" he stepped closer, pulling the knife from your hand and letting it clatter to the floor.

his rough hands found your hips, rubbing himself against your front as he trailed kisses from your jaw and down your neck. "new perfume?" he diverted.

"si. don't distract me. are you hiding something?" you tried to keep a straight face as you scolded him, but how could you? your husband was dangerously irresistible.

he chuckles again. "only tha' she's been botherin' me for t'long." his voice is gruff. "if y'didn't handle 'er, I would'v."

"oh." a frown pulls at your face. "why didn't you tell me? I would've killed her a lot sooner—"

you yelp as simon suddenly takes you over his shoulder, followed by a giggle as you struggle for a grip against his shirt. a whine of his name only earns a slap to your rear.

"c'mon, luvie, got'a get ya cleaned up." he starts in the direction of the bathroom, where he would personally scrub the blood from your body. somewhat like he had to do the first time you killed. clueless thing. "need ta stay pretty f'me, yeah?"

he'll take care of the corpse a bit later, if it meant cleaning you up personally. and delivering...ten orgasms as his reward for keeping his streak.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 44: Little Shit

Summary: John has left a mess in his wake. Can the pack pick up the pieces before it's too late?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,659 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, angst, language, some fluff, kissing, Simon being an asshole, angst

A/N: I'm actually very excited for this one and I know you will be too

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

It’s cold out. It feels fitting, a mirror of the emptiness in your soul. They’re not happy about you being out here, but you don’t care. You don’t care about much right now. You’re wrapped in a blanket regardless, tucked into the chair, curled in, making yourself as small as you possibly can. There’s a need deep within you to feel protected and safe. Part of you had wanted to curl up in bed and lay there for the rest of time, but another part of you desired to sit outside and stare at the sea in the distance. A deeper part of you wanted to go, but you know they’d shut that down as fast as the words could come out of your mouth.

They don’t seem eager to do much of anything for you right now.

It’s a fair assumption. They’re all dealing with John’s absence as much as you are. There’s a definitive hole in your pack, and no one will be able to fill it, no matter how hard they try.

“If you’re going to sit out here, at least drink something warm.” A cup of tea is set down on the table before a figure lowers themselves into the chair next to you with a grunt. “’S cold out.”

“Feels good.” You murmur, ignoring the steaming cup. Of course he’d bring tea. He wouldn’t be caught dead drinking coffee after the playful rivalry that’s been ongoing between coffee drinkers and tea drinkers in the cottage. At least that can continue even in the tumultuous state of the pack.

It falls silent between the two of you, an awkward silence. He’s the last person you expected to join you outside. He’s been avoiding you like the plague, but then again he’s been avoiding you as much as possible since you arrived at the cottage. You know he doesn’t hate you, but you’d almost prefer it. The distaste he held for you back when you first joined the pack would be preferable to this quiet avoidance he’s wedged between the two of you.

“You...doing okay?” He asks, and you almost laugh in response.

Of course you’re not. He knows you’re not. He’s perceptive and aware. He knows what you’re feeling even without you having to say it. He’s asking purely because of societal expectations, but he already knows. He’s not stupid.

At least in his head.

“No.” You answer honestly, tucking your blanket up tighter around you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do you want me to talk about it?” You retort. “Feelings aren’t really your thing.”

He shifts in the chair, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Because you trust Johnny and Kyle more?”

“It has nothing to do with trust.” You say, your brows furrowing. “You’re just not the most...open person to talk to. Didn’t think you’d be interested in talking about feelings.”

“I’m just trying to be supportive.” He says.

“Well you’re doing a shit job at it.” You snap back.

Things fall silent between the two of you again, the wedge pressing on the edges of your bond, the little bond you have left. He’s done a good job at laying that barrier between the two of you, driving the space further and further in his distance. He’s the last person you want right now, but he’s the only one you have.

You let out a long breath, the air steaming in front of you. “He just had to be the one to go after Shepherd.” You say bitterly, your thoughts coming out before you can stop them. “He really just up and left and for what?”

“To make sure the pack is safe.” Simon says simply. “Alphas leave all the time.”

“But he didn’t have to! Not right now,” You say, turning your head to look at him finally. “Not when things were finally starting to get better.”

“He thought he had to.” Simon says, glancing sideways at you. “You know how he is.”

“Yeah and it sucks.” You say. “I wanted him to be better, to try harder to not think about the big picture...to think about me.” You let out a shuddering breath as you try to hold the tears back. “Just...why? Why him?”

Simon is quiet for a moment. “You wish I had gone instead.”

You give him a look. “You know that's not what I meant.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like it.” He says. “Would have been better if I had gone anyway.”

“Why, because then you wouldn’t have to deal with me?” You say, hurt and anger starting to churn in your chest. You’re getting frustrated with him and his emotional constipation.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well it sounds like it.” You throw his own words at him, turning fully to face him now. “You really don’t want to be stuck here with me, in charge of me. Be honest.”

He’s silent for a breath, obviously trying to figure out how to answer in a way that’s going to hurt you the least. You don’t care. You want him to be honest and open, even if it does hurt. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer.” You say, letting the blanket drop from around you. You’re worked up enough from the emotions coursing through you, you don’t need it anymore.

“It’s the only answer I have.” He says, his voice firm.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose, pushing yourself up to stand. Some deep, twisted part of you wants to throw the tea at his face in anger, but you don’t. You won’t. You’re not brave enough for that. Instead you shove at his shoulder, barely making him budge. “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

You turn on your heel, storming back into the house.

“Well you're certainly not winning any popularity contests.” Kyle says, leaning against the door frame. 

“Piss off.” Simon growls, his shoulders hunched and tense like a coil ready to spring. 

Kyle glances over his shoulder as something thuds in your room. He wonders what it is you’ve thrown this time. Maybe yourself. That’s Johnny’s problem for now. Instead he steps out the door, sliding it closed behind him before making his way over to the tense alpha.

“You really are shit at this.” He says, sinking down into the chair you were sitting in. It’s still warm from your body, and so is the blanket as he drapes it over his lap. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“I shouldn’t have to try at all.” Simon snaps.

“But you don’t have a choice right now.” Kyle says. “I know you’re scared.” He cuts off Simon before he can protest. “Shut up, I know you’re scared of having this much power, of doing something wrong, of hurting her, but you’re not doing anyone any favors being all moody. You’re throwing her off and you’re throwing the rest of us off.”

Simon stays silent, staring out into the distance as Kyle continues to speak.

“John did what he did and we can’t change that. There was no changing his mind. You know that more than the rest of us. Now you have to step up. He trusts you to do that. He trusts his omega with you. That speaks volumes of his trust in your ability to take care of his pack.” Kyle reaches over, putting a hand on Simon’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “We’re right here with you. You don’t have to be scared.”

Simon slowly begins to relax, his shoulders lowering and jaw unclenching as Kyle continues to rub his shoulder, projecting his scent to try and diffuse the tension that had built in your exchange with the broody alpha.

“I hate it when you do that.” Simon grumbles, sinking further into the chair.

“It works, though.” Kyle says with a soft smile. “You’re the alpha in charge now, so start acting like it.”

“I don’t know where to start.” Simon says softly.

Kyle squeezes his shoulder. “Maybe with an apology.”

“He’s just so...emotionally constipated.” You say, throwing another pillow at the wall.

“He’s just...goin’ through a lot right now.”

“So are the rest of us!” You say, spinning on your heel to grab another pillow. “And we’re all doing just fine at trying to adjust!”

“Are we?”

You let out a huff as you stare at him, disheveled from the fit you’ve been throwing. Johnny grabs the pillow you’re bee-lining for, holding it out of your reach instead.

“That’s enough.” He says, letting the pillow drop to the floor before he reaches forward, wrapping an arm around you. He drags you up onto the bed, sitting you down between his legs.

“I just don’t get it.” You murmur as you sit there, drawing your knees up to your chest as Johnny starts to comb his fingers through your hair. “Why John had to leave, why Simon is being so difficult.”

“Ye want the truth?” He asks, tugging lightly at your hair. He’s starting to braid it, something to keep his hands busy.

“No.” You say, resting your chin on your knee. “I already know.”

“He’s just as scared as the rest of us.” Johnny says anyway. “He’s never been in this position before. None of us have. Sure, John’s left on solos before, but things are different now.”

“Because I’m here.” You murmur, leaning into his touch as his fingers brush your ear.

“A lot has changed.” Johnny says. “Not just because of ye.”

“A lot because of me, though.” You say. “If I hadn’t been here, if I hadn’t been added to this pack…”

“Things would have still gone to shit eventually.” Johnny says. “The truth would come out, Shepherd would run for the hills, John would chase after him. Difference now is there’s something tae come back to.”

Guilt churns in your stomach as you sit there, unsure what to say as Johnny finishes braiding your hair.

“You really think he’s coming back?” You say quietly after a moment, that guilt still chewing away inside your stomach.

“Course he is.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back against his chest. “He loves ye, he loves all of us. He has to ensure Shepherd is gone before he’ll feel safe again, before he’ll feel it’s safe fer you.”

He’s doing it for you.

It’s not the first time you’ve had that thought since your alpha left you.

You lean your head against Johnny’s arm, staring out the window at the grey world outside. It feels so dull and oppressive. For once you miss the sun and warmth of summer, the feeling of life instead of the chill that’s settled in your bones. It’s not cold in the house, yet you can feel a chill seeping down beneath your skin and into your very soul.

You curl up tighter in Johnny’s arms, pressing closer to his chest as if you might be able to sink deep into his very being. Maybe there you’ll finally be warm and that ache will ease just a little. His arms tighten around you, trying to offer you comfort, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, not so long as John is gone. Your omega yearns for her alpha in a way you’ve never felt. You know separation can be hard on an omega, yet you’ve never quite experienced something like this.

Despite your hurt and anger and frustration, your omega longs to be in her alpha’s arms again. You want John to scoop you up and hold you tight in his arms and keep you there forever, safe and warm and protected.

Johnny’s trying his best, trying to offer you comfort but even he has to know it’s not enough. You need an alpha, you need someone there to offer some semblance of balance in the pack and for your omega. She’s not angry like she had been, but she’s restless still, pacing in her cage, waiting for something.

You let out a quiet breath, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you sit there in Johnny’s embrace.

The quiet moment is broken by your stomach growling.

Johnny’s chest moves as he huffs out a quiet laugh, squeezing you tightly. “Come on, kitten. Let’s get ye some food.”

He finally lets you go, letting you slide off the bed. You grab a sweater from the closet before heading out into the main living area. Simon has disappeared unsurprisingly. Probably upstairs brooding, where he spends most of his time when he’s in the cottage. He almost spends more time outside the cottage now. He has to be going stir crazy laying low for this long. They all have to be.

Johnny passes by, brushing his hand across your back as he heads for the kitchen likely to harass Kyle while he tries to make lunch. Dr. Keller is nowhere to be seen, likely taking as much time to herself as she can. She’s been helping as much as she can while your pack tries to adjust to this sudden change. Mostly she’s been helping you, but the others have been utilizing her knowledge and understanding as well. It makes you feel guilty, making her work so much, but of course she’d never admit to being tired or worn out by the constant state of crisis within your pack.

You stand there for a moment, lost in thought until something warm presses against your back. You tense, slowly turning around to look up at Simon. He’s looming over you, staring down at you with his face hidden behind that stupid mask. You wish you could see his face and read him, but you know deep down his poker face is impeccable and you wouldn’t be able to read him anyway.

“You’re doing it again.” He says, and you know what he’s talking about.

“Sorry.” You say quietly.

“Stop apologizing.” He says rather harshly, making you flinch. His shoulders slump just a little at your flinch, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”

You blink up at him. This is rather unexpected.

“We’re all going through a lot right now, a lot of changes...but that’s no excuse to be a dick towards you.” He lets out another breath. “I’m sorry.”

You continue to stare up at him in shock, not expecting him to go so far as to apologize for his actions. Especially not right now. “Are you...apologizing?” You ask him in disbelief.

“Yes.” He says simply.

You stare up at him for a long moment, staring into those chocolate brown eyes. He’s so big and imposing, yet he seems so vulnerable in this moment. Something stirs in the back of your mind, your omega starting to preen a bit at the idea of him finally bowing down before you and allowing you to be in charge. He’s lowered himself enough to apologize...what else can you get out of him?

A low rumble echoes in his chest as you stare up at him, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “You really mean it?”

“Stop it.” He growls, his eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” You ask innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

He clenches his fist, his shoulders squaring. “I hate this new side of you.”

Your grin only widens as you step up closer to him. “Doesn’t smell like it.”

“Alright you two, come eat before you stink out the house.” Kyle says, breaking the tense moment between the two of you.

You give Simon a wink before turning on your heel, leaving the reeling alpha in your wake as you make your way to the table.

“How are things going?”

It’s an innocent question, but it almost has you in tears. How are things going? Your pack is on the fringes of a breakdown, the bonds have never been more tense, you have an alpha that doesn’t want to be an alpha. How are things going? Not great.

“They’re okay,” You lie, your fingers tightening around the edges of the book in your lap. “It’s an adjustment.”

“I bet.” Ashley says sympathetically. “I can’t imagine this would be an easy change.”

“They’re doing well all things considered.” Dr. Keller swoops in, saving you from having to come up with a response. “The separation of an alpha can be a hard thing to cope with.” Her eyes are on you when she says it, making the guilt in your stomach twist itself into knots.

“You’re a lot stronger than I would be in this situation.”

It’s directed at you, and you bring yourself to offer a small smile in response.

In truth you feel like falling apart. You doubt either women would care. They’re both betas, caretakers. You’ve cried in front of Dr. Keller so many times you’ve lost count, and you doubt Ashley would look down on you for showing such weakness. It might actually feel good, letting the emotions out in front of two people who understand.

“You need anything, you let me know.” Ashley continues. “Even if it’s getting the boys out of the house.”

They are out of the house currently, well, Johnny and Simon left. Well, it was more like Johnny dragged Simon out of the house. Going on a run, they said. A long run. Maybe to town and back. A run to clear the head. A run to get those emotions out.

How you wish you could go for a run right now.

Kyle is somewhere in the house. Kyle. You feel guilty for how much you’ve withdrawn from the beta. You can only imagine how he’s feeling. His alpha has deserted him too. You both share that closer bond because of John and yet here you are keeping Kyle at arm’s distance. You have something to bond over, something to bring the two of you closer together in your confusion and the adjustments you both have to make.

Yet here you are holding him at a distance.

It only adds to the twisting of the guilt in your stomach.

The room has fallen silent, Ashley and Dr. Keller both staring at you. You blink yourself back into reality, looking between them. You got lost in your mind again, a habit you still can’t break. It’s gotten worse in your isolation, often left with nothing but your thoughts for company.

Whose fault is that?

“Sorry.” You say quietly, adjusting yourself in your chair.

“Welcome back.” Dr. Keller says, giving you a soft smile.

“A fellow over-thinker.” Ashley says, giving you a wink. “I understand 100%. Why don’t we move on to less intense conversation.”

You glance down at the book in your lap. In truth you haven’t read much of it. You haven’t felt like reading much in the last few days. You haven’t felt like doing much of anything these last few days. Life has gotten impossibly hard with the desertion of your alpha. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

You hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

Everything has been thrown off, even your desire to function as a member of the pack. If you can even call what you have a pack. You’re more like four independent planets all stuck in the gravitational pull of the black hole that is the bond you share. You’re slowly inching closer and closer to the event horizon, the point of no return when the gravitational pull will be too much and you’ll be sucked in and spaghettified in the intensity of your bond.

You’ll all be sucked in eventually. There’s no escaping.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

There is an escape, a way to find the velocity to pull yourself free of the looming event horizon, but the pain of it will be far greater than the pain you feel now. There will be no recovery, no promise of a future for you. It will be the end of everything. You’ll fall into a different black hole and there won’t be anything waiting on the other side.

“So what do you think of the main character?” Ashley asks, drawing you from your thoughts once more.

“I think she could use a break from everything she’s been through.” Dr. Keller says.

You and me both.

As the days continue to pass since John’s desertion, things don’t improve much. Simon is still fighting his new role, driving Johnny to recede into himself again. Kyle is like a lost ghost, floating around the house like a specter. You...you’re going insane with it all.

You can’t take much more of this up and down, this lack of surety, the pain throbbing in the back of your head from the constant tugging of your bond. Their lack of motion has you spinning out of control. You need to take control, you need to help them and yourself. The pack won’t last like this, so you have to make things happen one way or another.

Looks like you have to do everything yourself again.

“Where’s Johnny.” You ask Simon as he passes by you in the living room.

“Upstairs I think.” He says, skirting past you.

“Will you go get him please?” You say, turning around to face him. “We need to have a pack meeting.”

Simon stares down at you for a long moment before nodding. “Fine.” He grunts.

You step out of his way as he heads for the stairs, his footsteps thudding up the steps. You let out a long breath, half expecting you’d have to fight him harder than that. You move to stand in front of the fireplace, a few seconds passing before you hear movement upstairs.

Three sets of footsteps make their way down the steps, the other members of your pack appearing one by one.

“Sit.” You say, pointing in front of you.

They move silently, sitting themselves down on the couches. Simon by himself on one, and Johnny and Kyle on the other. They’re sitting further away than they have been. It makes your chest constrict as you stare at them.

You clear your throat, the words you had planned vacating your mind as you stand before them. You have nothing to be nervous about. They’re just the members of your pack, men you’ve been around for almost a year now. You know them in and out, better than they know you. Yet you can’t hide the nervous twisting in your stomach as you stand there vulnerably.

You close your hands into fists to hide them from shaking as you look across their faces once more.

“I’ve gathered you here today to have a serious conversation.” You say, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “About us as a pack.”

Johnny shifts in his seat at your words, all of them staring at you intently.

“I know John leaving has been hard on all of us, but we can’t keep just floating around like a bunch of ghosts. It’s eating me alive and I can’t take it anymore.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “So, seeing as how no one else wants to do so, I’m taking charge of this pack.”

Simon shifts slightly at your words, just a flinch but you catch it out of the corner of your eye.

“My alpha is the one that left, so I should be the one to step up in his place.” You state firmly, not letting the thickening of Simon’s scent throw you off. “You can call me alpha now.”

Simon’s hands clench into fists, his scent nearly knocking you off your feet. “You think it’s that easy, do you?”

You steady yourself. You prepared for such an outburst from the broody alpha. “Yeah. I do.”

“You’re just going to step up and play alpha while yours is away?” Simon rises to his feet. “What gives you the right?”

“Well, you won’t do it.” You snap, steeling yourself as he steps closer. “So someone has to.”

His eyes narrow at your words. You’ve hit a nerve and he doesn’t like it. Good, you think. Serves him right.

“We can’t keep going on like this.” You continue, trying to reason with him. “Someone has to take charge and since you won’t, I will.”

“That’s not your place, omega.” His scent slams into you again and you feel the urge to drop as your status slips out of his mouth.

“Then do something!” You’re shaking now, fighting off his dominance. He’s using his own status against you. It’s not fair, but it’s what you want. “Man up and be an alpha.”

“Hey!” Kyle is between you before Simon can take another step forward, pushing the alpha back. “You’re not helping anything getting all puffed.” Johnny is on his feet too, halfway between you and the couch. “She’s right.” Kyle continues. “We can’t go on like this. John left and we can’t do anything about that. We need a leader.”

“You want that to be me?” Simon scoffs.

“Well, yeah.” Kyle says. “You are second alpha. It’s your job to take John’s place in his absence. We need you to take his place.” Kyle pushes him back another step. “You have to decide. You can’t fight our omega on wanting to step up because you don’t want to step up yourself.”

You feel like passing out as you stand there, still trembling from the onslaught of alpha you had just faced. You’re proud of yourself for facing it as long as you did. Months ago you wouldn’t have even approached the subject, much less stood up to him like that.

If you were stronger, you might have fought him back.

“It’s me or you.” You say, stepping out from behind Kyle. “It can’t be neither of us.”

Simon stares down at you, his eyes hard. His scent has dispersed a bit, the heavy ozone of it fading. The scent of beta is pushing it aside, but your nose still burns from his anger. He’s still frustrated, but you can see the tension in his body lessening. You imagine his jaw unclenching, his shoulders lowering just centimeters. You’ve got him right where you wanted him to be.

You step around Kyle, putting yourself back in his space. Kyle doesn’t move, inches away from your back. He and Johnny are still as statues, waiting and watching what’s going to happen next.

You reach for Simon, putting your hands on his arms. You gently guide him back before pushing him backwards onto the couch again. He goes easily, slumping back into the cushions. You stand over him and he lets you take the dominant pose this time. You move yourself so you’re between his knees and you bend down to take his hand in yours. It’s rough and calloused, even time away from handling weapons unable to soften the roughness of his skin. It’s the first time you’ve touched his skin since the day he rescued you. It’s the same hand he used to scruff you, the same hand that saved your life.

“I don’t want to have to do it.” You say softly, tracing the back of his hand. “I’d prefer it were you.” You lift your gaze from his hand to his eyes. “I trust you to do it. I know that probably doesn’t mean much, but it’s the truth. John trusted you to save my life once, and you did. He trusts you to take care of his pack, and I do too.”

He stares up at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. You’re projecting your scent just a bit, trying to ease it deep into his brain where his alpha lies, use your power against him to convince him to take on this role so you can stop going insane.

“I need you, alpha.” You whisper.

His eyes darken, his hand tightening around yours. You’ve got him right in his soft underbelly.

He pushes himself up to stand, forcing you back half a step. Your chests brush as he looms over you, his scent thickening in the air, but not in the way it had before. The leather and natural muskiness invades your senses, seeping deep into your brain. You stare up at him, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Fine.” He breathes, dropping your hand. “I’ll do it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You got him hook, line, and sinker.

More days pass and slowly your pack begins to settle. Simon has shifted into his role easily, taking over as alpha. Johnny and Kyle no longer seem so weighed down, and the tumultuous energy has subsided a bit. You feel lighter, like some of the pressure has been lifted from your shoulders.

It has.

You’re no longer the only one holding the pack together, desperately clinging to the strings of your bonds. Simon is right there by your side, gluing them down so they no longer slip away.

You quite like him being alpha. He wears the title like a king and you find yourself feeling a stirring of excitement in your stomach every time you think of Pack Alpha Simon. It fits him, being in control of not just Johnny but everyone. Even Kyle seems a bit more at ease despite the missing link.

Your missing link too.

“Kyle?” You say softly, almost afraid to disrupt him where he sits on the couch reading.

“Hm?” He hums, glancing up from his book.

“I...was just wondering...how you were doing?” You wince at the awkwardness of your own words.

“Fine.” He shrugs, marking his place in the book.

“You’re sure?” You ask, slowly lowering yourself onto the opposite side of the couch. “I mean, our alpha is gone.”

Kyle nods slowly. “Yeah, he is.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I miss him.” You hate to admit it, but you do.

“I know.” Kyle says, reaching out for your hand. “I do too. He may be a shit alpha, but he’s our alpha.”

You can’t help but laugh a bit at his words. “That is true. You really think he’s coming back?”

Kyle nods. “I think so. I doubt he’d leave us high and dry. He loves both of us too much for that.”

You stare up at him. You forget just how much John cares for you and Kyle. It’s easy to forget with how he’s been acting lately. He left for you. He left for the good of the pack, to go eliminate the last threat hanging over your heads. Once Shepherd is gone, then you can finally move forward. You can finally decide what comes next.

What does come next?

Will they return to the military? Will they go back to the way life was before? You can’t expect them to give it up. You’ve come to that conclusion easily. They won’t leave that way of life without a fight, and you can’t ask that of them, not matter how badly you want to. You’ll go back to life on base, life the way it had been before. The constant worry and stress will always be a part of your life, no matter what. They’ll always put the good of the world above everything else. Even your pack.

They promised they’d start putting you first, but you can’t ask them to give up their livelihood for you. It’s been their whole lives. They’re all career soldiers, they all started early and haven’t known anything else. This is what they do and it will always be what they do until they die or are forced to retire. You’ll always be there, waiting for them back home, praying they come back breathing and not in a coffin.

You’ll always have nightmares of that phone call, of getting that news.

“You okay?” Kyle asks, squeezing your hand.

You look back up at him, staring into those deep brown eyes. “Yeah.” You nod. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Simon?”

Simon glances up from his phone, turning his head to the side. No word from John yet, but then again it could be too soon. He doesn’t know anything, and it’s driving him insane. He doesn’t like not knowing. He knows Shepherd had been found, though captured or spotted he’s none the wiser. John could have been going on a stakeout for all he knows. It could be weeks, months.

It’s been just over a week and he doesn’t know anything yet.

He hates it.

He turns his head to the side, staring at you. You’re standing there, looking small and timid next to the couch. So different from how you stood up to him days ago when you forced him to finally accept he’s in charge. He had to take on that role because John wanted him to. That’s why he knew first, that’s why John spent so much time preparing him. Simon have to take on this role eventually, whether he wanted it or not.

“Have you heard anything from John?” You ask, shifting on your feet.

It’s the first time you’ve asked about John. Sometimes he wonders what’s going through your head. You’re angry and frustrated with John, he knows that much. He can read that on your face. He knew from the teary goodbye, the look of despondency hidden behind the quiet confidence on John’s face when he walked out the door that something had transpired between the two of you when he told you. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you already understood this would happen eventually.

If John would have let him, he would have gone instead, if only to save you from having to face this.

It would have been easier for him to play the soldier and assassin. He’s done it many times before.

“Nothing.” He says honestly. Better to give you the truth than false hope.

John will return, even if you told him not to. He’s too stubborn for that. He won’t give up that easily. He’ll know you’d change your mind if you told him to stay away. You didn’t. He can tell that much, but he knows. He understands.

“Oh.” You say quietly, almost as if you’d had a false hope that there was word, some small message to let you know he’s alive, he’s well, he’s coming home.

He can’t come home soon enough.

You slowly inch around the side of the couch before sitting gingerly on the edge of the cushion. You’re moving like you’re approaching a wild animal, but in your mind you might just be. He’s not a wild animal. If anything he’s the opposite of right now. He’s tired, worn down from the sudden weight of responsibility. He wouldn’t even bare his teeth if he could.

You’re holding a book in your hand. You clutch it to your chest as you slowly lean back, scooting until you’re comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from him. Why you chose there and not across from him, he doesn’t know. You could have sat anywhere in the house and yet you decided to sit next to him.

Perhaps it’s some deep omegan need for comfort and security. You certainly need a lot of that right now. You’re going through a tumultuous time and you’ll need all the comfort you can stand. He’s the one that’s supposed to give that to you, yet he finds himself withdrawing from that desire, that need. You won’t want his comfort because he’s not your alpha. He’ll never be your alpha, he’ll never be good enough.

Simon sits there, still as a sniper as he watches you slowly inch your way into a comfortable seat. You haven’t spoken a word since your small, quiet acknowledgment of his answer to your question. Maybe you’re too afraid to speak more, ruin the moment, drive him away when you’ve so obviously sought him out for more than word on your absent alpha.

He stays there as you move, slowly shifting yourself on the couch until you’re curled up in the corner. It’s reminiscent of how you used to sit in the rec room all those weeks ago, curled up on the couch while he sat as far as he could from you, at least until those bonds began to grow, those steel-bound threads of alpha and omega began to wind themselves around you like nooses.

Bonds are like nooses. One fails they all do. That’s why he’s always hated them, why he’s always avoided them.

Why his mother never gave in.

His hand curls into a fist, nails digging into his palm as he forces the thoughts away, shoves his past down into the recesses of his mind where it belongs.

You seem ignorant to his inner struggle as you sit there, book open in your hands. You’re lost in a fictional world, ignorant of everything going on around you. How easily you slip into a realm of distraction, he’ll never know. There will always be a part of him that’s aware, hypervigilant to the world.

Maybe you can drift off so easily because you feel secure enough to do so. You feel safe enough with him there to sink deep into a stupor brought on by words on a page. It stirs something inside of him. Pride? Honor? Guilt?

You’ve sought him out for safety and security and here he is blocking you out more and more. You had to face him down to force him into this position when he should have stepped into it in the first place. He should have done more, been more. From the start he should have been a better alpha, even if he wasn’t yours, even if he’d never be yours. He’s an alpha in the pack, he should start acting like it.

The vulnerability that takes. The weakness he’ll have to show.

It’s okay. The soft voice of his mother floats through his mind. Better to be soft than hard like your father.

A shiver runs down his spine, making his whole body tense. It draws you out of your book, your head turning to look at him. Not quite so lost as he thought, then.

“Simon?” You ask quietly, concern lacing your voice. “What is it?”

Your omega must be sensing some sort of danger. He’s on edge, your omega is responding, looking for reassurance that there’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing there.

“Nothing.” He answers, forcing himself to relax. He has to put his hackles down, otherwise the moment will be ruined. “Just thinking too much.”

He’s not sure why he said it. Maybe it was because he knew it would draw that small smile on your face.

He likes it when you smile. You haven’t been doing much of it lately, but then again, you haven’t had much of a reason to. Why smile when the world is crumbling around you? Yet there are still moments when he sees that side of you, you let out on base. Those happy moments when life was good and easy and predictable. Back when he allowed himself to feel, to touch, to smell, to devour your very being.

He misses it.

No he doesn’t.

It’s too much of a risk, too much of a vulnerability to allow that again. He can’t open himself up to that when it will only lead to more hurt on your part. Everything ends in hurt. It’s all he can do, all he’ll ever do. He’s hurt Johnny, he’s still hurting Johnny. You’ll crumble in his hands too, slipping through his fingers like sand.

He sits there still as you begin to slowly shift yourself so you’re facing him, putting your back to the fire. He watches you from the corner of your eye as you begin to stretch out, joints cracking as they straighten. His eyes lower to your feet as they slowly slip across the couch, inching closer and closer to him. His hand twitches, his breath stilling in his lungs.

He can’t move. He’s stuck there, stuck watching as you slowly press upon the barrier between the two of you, breaking down that boundary he’s set in place with just a simple movement. He can see it crumbling as your bare toes inch closer and closer until they press against the soft fabric of his jeans. Just a brush, just a tickle against his leg.

“Do you have to do that?” He asks, still staring down at your toes.

“It’s a small couch.” You say simply, not even looking up from your book.

“There’s an empty one right there.” He nods towards the empty couch across from him.

“I like this one better.”

His hand closes into a fist as you push against his leg with your toes. That boundary is crashing down, crumbling brick by brick as your toes bend, feet arching as you push against his leg.

“What are you doing?” He still hasn’t moved. He can’t bring himself to.

“My toes are cold.” You say, turning a page in your book.

“There’s a fire right there.”

“I don’t want to get up.”

Little shit.

He swallows the growl crawling up his chest, swallows down the emotions threatening to choke him. He’s right back in the rec room with your toes on his arm as the two of you read in silence. You’d gone toe to toe with him then too, the snarky remarks flowing like water between you. How easily it came, how easily it flowed, how easily you faced him on and didn’t back down.

Fucking hell how he’s missed this.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t get up like he once might have. Instead he sits there, letting you rest your toes against his leg, even though he knows they aren’t cold.

Something draws you from the sweet edge of sleep and forces you back into the world of the living. You’re not sure what it is at first, unaware enough you can’t think rationally. You had been so close to the sweet bliss of sleep for your morning nap when something woke you. You try not to think about it, chasing that edge of tiredness that’s quickly fading from your mind.

A pain in your stomach pushes it even further away. It takes your breath away, pulling you right into the world of wakefulness. For a moment you think you might be dying. Appendix burst, GI bleed, some sort of horrible gas cramp. You did have a big breakfast after all.

No, it’s none of those things. That pain begins to shift, morphing into a gnawing feeling that grows until a low rumble sounds.

You’re hungry.

For a moment you wonder if you did sleep and you’ve slept through lunch. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s only eleven. Not quite time for lunch yet.

You try to ignore it, try to curl up and go back to sleep, but that gnawing pain continues, keeping you from finding that tiredness that drove you to seek out your bed in the first place.

Instead you sit up with a huff, shoving the blanket off of you. A snack it is then.

The gnawing pain continues as you rise from the bed, padding quietly over to your half closed door. You slip through the gap, the living area empty. Upstairs or outside then, you think.

You head for the kitchen, digging through cupboards as the pain in your stomach continues to intensify. If you don’t eat right this minute you might die. You want something fast, but all you’re finding is cans and packages of food you’ll have to cook. You don’t have time for that.

Desperately you search, your hands starting to shake as you comb through the cabinets for something that might calm the uncomfortable growling in your abdomen.

Finally you find an unopened package of cookies. Tea cookies, you think, but you don’t care. You nearly rip them open in desperation, shoving one in your mouth. They’re dry, but you don’t care. They may as well be manna from heaven in this moment.

You carry the package over to the sliding door, staring out at the yard as you continue to shove cookies into your mouth. It hasn’t rained in a few days, the deck starting to dry out finally. It’s still cloudy and grey though, the sea reflecting the sky in the distance.

You stand there, lost in space and time until you reach into the packet of cookies only to meet air and crumbs. You stare down at the package, your stomach still rumbling hungrily like an insatiable monster. 

Insatiable. Hunger. 

“Oh fuck.” You say, staring down at the package still. 

“What?” Kyle says, approaching you from behind. 

You turn on your heel, hand still in the package. “I’m hungry.” 

“It’s almost lunch time.” He says. “What would you like to eat?” 

“No, no.” You gulp. “I’m hungry.” 

He stares at you blankly for a moment before realization crosses his face. He stares at you wide-eyed, shifting on his feet nervously. “Oh shit.” 

“Sedation is an option but I’d have to get the supplies for it.” Dr. Keller says. “We’re not equipped here for something of that caliber. I can get the supplies, but we might not have enough time, even with Kate’s help.”

“It might be risky, drawing that much attention.” Kyle says. “People will have questions.”

“You’re not even nesting yet.” Dr. Keller says with a sigh, glancing at you. “This is bad timing.”

“It’s not like I can control it.” You say around a mouthful of chips.

You’ve already downed three sandwiches and you’re working on polishing off an entire bag of chips.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says softly.

“Is there any way to stop it from happening?” Johnny asks.

“Not without considerable risk.” Dr. Keller says. “Especially this close.”

“What do we do then?” Kyle asks, looking at you.

“It is possible for a beta to help, but it’ll be a long and painful heat without an alpha.” Dr. Keller says.

A hand lands on your shoulder as they continue to brainstorm. You look up from the bag of chips, a handful halfway to your mouth. Simon is standing over you, his hand on your shoulder. He tilts his head in the direction of your door before removing his hand. You blink at him as he walks towards it, pushing the door open before disappearing into your room. You shove the handful of chips in your mouth before putting the bag on the coffee table. You lick the crumbs off your fingers as you make your way towards the open door.

It’s bold of him, entering your room just like that, but your interest is piqued.

He’s standing next to the bed, fingers toying with the edge of the blanket tossed haphazardly across the mattress from your attempt at a nap.

“Simon?” You ask quietly.

“Close the door.” He says, turning around.

You pull it closed behind you, turning the nob so it doesn’t make any sound. Something tells you he wants to keep this as quiet as possible. Nerves start to rattle inside of you. What does he want? Why does he want to keep things quiet? They must notice you’ve disappeared, but Simon doesn’t seem to care either way.

“Come here.” He says, holding out his hand.

You approach slowly, a bit hesitant from the alpha being in your space. It is your space now, your room. Even if you haven’t nested yet, it’s still your safe, sacred space. He hasn’t been in your space yet. You haven’t even invited him in, and here he is just walking in and making himself at home.

Your fingers tremble as you slip your hand into his, letting him pull you closer. He toes off his boots before turning back towards the bed. You watch as he stares at the giant bear for a moment before he shoves it off onto the floor on the other side of the bed. It almost makes you laugh, it would have had you not been so nervous. What he’s doing is bold, and it’s leaving you unsettled.

He climbs onto the bed, sitting in your spot. He uses the hand in yours to pull you up onto the bed as well. He relaxes back against the headboard as you wind up in his lap, straddling his waist.

“What’s happening?” You say, staring at him wide eyed. You haven’t been this close to him in months, and here he is just sitting you right in his lap like it’s nothing.

You’re going to get whiplash if he continues this.

“I did you a disservice.” He starts, tilting his head back to stare up at you. “That time I made you use sedation for your heat. I was too afraid of hurting you to see what it really meant, to understand the risks and what it would be like for you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You say quietly, trying not to jump as his hands come to settle on your thighs.

“I do.” He says, his eyes soft as he stares up at you. “I wasn’t man enough to face down my fears. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Simon-”

“Don’t.” He says quietly. “Don’t talk me out of this.”

You shake your head. “You don’t-”

“I want to.”

His words have your protests dying in your throat. You stare at him wide-eyed. This feels like it’s coming out of left field. Things have shifted since his ascension into pack alpha, including the distance that had wedged between the two of you. Though he’s still been spending the least amount of time with you, you can’t deny he doesn’t feel quite so distant anymore. It’s comforting, just knowing there is an alpha there that would catch you if you fell.

Still, to go to this extent, to move this fast feels uncharacteristic for him.

“Simon,” You say softly as his hands trail up your thighs, reaching for your own hands.

“I should have done more, I should have been more for you.” He continues, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “You were right. I should have stepped up as soon as John said he was leaving.” He lifts your hands until they’re resting on either side of his neck. “I want to do this for you.”

You swallow thickly as you stare down at him, your fingers trembling where they rest against his mask. It feels strange being this close to him after so long. He’s being so...vulnerable suddenly and it’s making your head spin.

“Take it off.” He says.

“What?” You blink at him in surprise. You didn’t expect this at all.

“The mask. Take it off.”

“You...you’re sure?” You ask.

“Do it.” He says firmly.

Your fingers are still trembling as they curl around the bottom of the fabric. You can hardly believe this is happening, this is real. You’re really going to see his face. You had resigned yourself to only ever seeing him in his mask for the rest of your life, that he’d never willingly become that vulnerable with you. Yet here he is, coming into your space and opening himself up to this vulnerability.

Slowly you tug the fabric upward, revealing his scruffy chin. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of him when he tugs his mask up to eat. You continue pushing the fabric upward over his lips, your thumb tracing the scar there for a moment as you try and gain the courage to continue. It’s really happening. You’re about to see his face for the first time.

You push the mask up over his nose, thumbs gliding over his cheeks as you continue, pushing it up higher and higher. You take a deep breath in before tugging it upwards, pulling it completely off. He blinks up at you, leaning his head back against the headboard. You stare down at him in shock and awe, taking in his full face for the first time.

“You’re so...British looking.”

It’s the only thing you can think of to say. His face falls slightly, his brows pinching.

“Not-not in a bad way, it’s just...I’d know you were British if I saw you walking down the street.”

You wince at your own awkwardness. You’re not making it any better.

“You’re a handsome British man.” You say, cupping his cheeks.

He stares at you blankly for a moment and you worry you’ve fucked this up before his lips twist up in a smile, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Very much so.” You say quietly, cupping his cheeks.

You want to kiss him. You want to lean down and press your lips against his. You’re not sure where the desire has come from, when this sudden shift and change happened, but you can’t deny the desire you feel towards him. Maybe it’s your looming heat, maybe it’s because he’s the only alpha around, maybe it’s because he’s finally stepped up into what you knew he could be for you, what he could do for you.

He doesn’t stop you as you start to lean down, giving into the impulsive need. You wait for him to push you away, wait for him to change his mind and walk out the door, but he doesn’t. His arms tighten around your back, pulling you flush against his body as your lips touch his in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as you kiss him, his hand flattening against your back. Shivers run down your spine, a quiet whine leaving your lips. His hand slides up your back, sinking into your hair to stop you from pulling away.

“Missed this.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Why did you wait so long?” You say quietly, kissing him again.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you again.” He says, pulling away. “I did it enough times before.” He stares up at you like you hung the moon and the stars. “I wasn’t fair to you.”

“You seriously don’t have to apologize.” You say, putting a finger on his lips. “I know you were being Mr. Emotionally Constipated So I Have To Make Myself Suffer For No Reason. It works for you, though.” You shrug. “Pairs with the Mr. Dark and Mysterious well.” You smile down at him. “Who knew Mr. Dark and Mysterious would also turn out to be Mr. Very British. Should have known with all the tea talk.”

He tightens his grip around you before suddenly pushing himself up. He flips you over onto your back, his hand squeezing your side, making you giggle. You trust him not to hurt you, his movements done in jesting not anger.

“You little shit.” He chuckles, resting on his elbows above you.

You smile up at him, pulling him down for another kiss. “I missed this.”

“So did I.” He says before kissing you deeply.

The kiss has electricity shooting down to your toes. Your whole body feels alive as your lips move against his, your arms wrapping around his neck. One hand slides into his hair, the short soft strands slipping through your fingers. You rake your nails across his scalp, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He pushes his body down against yours, squishing you into the mattress but you don’t care. He’s so big and warm it makes you feel safe and secure and for the first time since John left, your omega has settled contently.

You pull away begrudgingly after a few moments, staring up at him. You still can’t believe you’re seeing all of him, that he’s honored you with this chance to see his face fully.

“You really mean it?” You breathe, the hand in his hair sliding to cup his cheek.

“Of course.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“We should go let them know so they can stop stressing.” You breathe.

“Good idea.” He kisses you one more time before he pulls away, letting you get up off the bed.

You grab his mask, handing it to him. “Here.”

He stares down at it for a long moment before pocketing it. “I don’t need it.”

You stare at him in surprise. “What?”

“I’ve been hiding long enough.” He says. “There’s no reason to now.”

You give him an incredulous look. “What happened to you?”

He shrugs. “Had an epiphany I guess.”

“One hell of an epiphany.” You say as he opens the door.

“It might be our only option.” Dr. Keller says as you step out of the door. “It’s going to be a rough heat though.”

“I’ll do it.” Simon says, standing next to you.

The three of them look up, Johnny doing a double take. Dr. Keller’s face slowly morphs into a smile as she stares at Simon. She’s seeing his face for the first time as well. It speaks volumes to his sudden new-found trust that he’s letting her see him as well. Or, maybe he’s solidifying her place among the allies of your pack. He knows how much she means to you, how much she means to the others.

It almost makes you want to cry.

The room is silent as Johnny and Kyle stare at Simon in shock. You stand next to him, a small smile on your face. Things are finally turning around, things are finally starting to shift and heal within your pack, even with John out of the picture for now. He’s going to be surprised when he comes back.

Simon shifts on his feet next to you, his hand squeezing yours gently. It grounds you, keeps you steady as he speaks the next words, the words you never thought you’d hear from him. They’re sincere, not born out of necessity or need. He really does mean them.

“I’ll help her through her heat.”

NEXT ->

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[paarksunghoon]

resignation | sunghoon

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: desperately need to rant about my life and I’m doing it by way of enhypen 😩 this is a small little chapter and I have no idea if I’m gonna make this a whole thing, but we’ll see. enjoy for now and let me know your thoughts! xx

WARNINGS: none :)

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Like a bird stuck in a metal cage, you feel trapped in an enclosure that’s meant to prevent you from flying away. That’s what it feels like to work at Park Inc., an international venture capitalist firm that serves Asia and the greater North American and European landscape. Your job is boring and meaningless, and today is the day you decided to do something about it. 

Your alarm rings every morning at 5 A.M. on the dot and today is no exception. Since becoming Park Sunghoon’s assistant six years ago, you’ve learned the masterful art of never hitting snooze after hearing an earful from Sunghoon himself when he requested your presence the following hour (you failed to arrive in time and learned to never go back to sleep unless it was your day off). 

This life seemed like a dream at the ripe age of twenty-one. Freshly graduated from college with no real career goal in mind, one of your academic mentors suggested entering the workforce as a personal assistant to gain social capital and learn about different areas of industry that could potentially lead you towards a career. Your measly business degree left you feeling unfulfilled and your parents’ aloof demeanor towards the lack of job offers lining up after graduating wasn’t the kind of news you were ecstatic about. You jumped at the chance to work as a personal assistant with the assumption that it would be the kind of job that you could pursue in the meantime until something else came along.

This position at Park Inc. fell into your lap like some kind of dumb luck. The role wasn’t posted on any job site. Rather, your name had been submitted on behalf of your academic advisor, which got you your first interview. You suppose that must be some kind of nepotism. After six separate interviews over the course of three months, the job was yours.

You’d saved up enough money, working the night shift at a local restaurant to afford a rundown apartment and a new office-appropriate wardrobe from the local second hand stores in your neighborhood. Pencil skirts, fashionable blouses, heels that promised to last a long time, and blazers that looked professional enough lined your closets for future use. It was an exciting prospect and starting your new life after graduating university felt like a different ball park than when you were still pursuing your degree. 

Despite all of that, you feel listless.

Your days begin before the sun rises and ends just after sunset. Anticipating Sunghoon’s needs is seamless for you, to the point where you’re able to think on his behalf without second guessing yourself. He agrees on most days and doesn’t put up much of a fight when it comes to business matters because you’ve been by his side for over half a decade. You’ve picked him up from many late night rendezvous with women who definitely wanted more than he was willing to give, and you’ve accompanied him to events where he couldn’t bother asking somebody to be his date. You’re his assistant, and therefore you’re always available. 

But you’re just the help. You don’t have any real stake in Park Inc., nor does anybody take you seriously unless Sunghoon agrees with your opinion. You know this company inside and out, and you know exactly how Sunghoon envisions this company to succeed. You act like you’re a managing partner without the title because you’re by his side nearly every hour of the day, and it’s gotten to a point where people me either whisper about a silent affair, or look at you with sympathy because Sunghoon can’t seem to function without you. 

It was fun, at first. Learning how to stand on your own two feet while leaving everything you knew behind felt exhilarating. Abandoning your hometown to explore the big city was a dream come true, and you envisioned all of the late night food runs you’d go on in an attempt to explore each neighborhood within Seoul. The beginning was tolerable at best—if you count crying in your small apartment after thinking you’d never get the hang of this job—and Sunghoon knew to delegate tasks to you based on experience level. He had you fetch coffee and take care of his dry cleaning in the first few months, on top of organizing multiple reports until you were ready for more. He was kind like that, and you’re sure his willingness to help you in your career was why you stayed for as long as you have. 

Six years ago, receiving the amount of responsibility you carry felt like you’d reached the top of the tallest mountain after dreaming of the day Sunghoon could trust you enough to let you do your job without much supervision. You could complete a task for him before he delegated it to you, because you understood his workflow and what needed to be prioritized. The both of you worked well like that, and after six years of getting to know each other, many would say you’re both joined at the hip professionally. 

It comes to a point where you learn that the Sunghoon you see is far different than the Sunghoon everybody else sees. He’s naturally funny and a bit clumsy. He’s professional and stoic when he needs to be, but behind closed doors, Sunghoon laughs your ear off about old men who think they can walk all over his business tactics and people who are too rich to see that they’re the problem. Sunghoon is the best boss you’ve ever had, bar none. 

He’s unlike any of the wealthy, stuck up assholes you deal with on a daily basis. Sunghoon hides his witty, flirty personality behind a professional face in the eyes of higher ups and investors who he does business with. He keeps his personal and work life separate, as far as he can, with the exception of occasionally letting women he meets accompany him to select events that almost always end up in having to kick them out of his penthouse apartment the morning after if they haven’t left already. His lifestyle is one you’ll never get used to. Even after six years working beside Sunghoon, you go back to your humble one bedroom apartment, the same one you moved into once you were able to afford living without any roommates. 

It seems as though life moves for Sunghoon. He doesn’t have to do or say much to get people to fall to their knees or grant his every wish. He’s good looking (that’s something you’ll never deny because he’s objectively handsome), he manages to say all the right things, and he’s really good at his job. Sunghoon comes from a powerful and wealthy family that’s existed in Seoul for as long as anyone can remember, and there aren’t many bad things people say about him behind his back. He’s risky but strategic, gambling on chances that would typically slip through the cracks if not for his watchful eye and modern approach to business. 

You’ve learned a lot from him, too. Sunghoon grew into the man he is today. He’s no longer the overly arrogant and cocky person he was when you first met him, and he’s gained a deeper understanding of the company he’s about to inherit once his father transitions his title unto him. There’s much to be said about powerful men who choose to view everybody he works with as an equal, and while you might legally be his personal assistant, Sunghoon has allowed you to partake in the business too. You’ve been his right hand man ever since he realized you knew the company as well as he did. Yet, you can’t help but feel utterly stuck in this endless cycle of work, work, and more work.

There must be something out there for you that doesn’t consist of answering emails and letting your inbox pile up until the stress eats you alive. Being able to travel alongside Sunghoon for business opportunities has granted you a pathway to see the world, but it’s not enough to accompany somebody else. You want to explore the world by yourself and create agendas for your taste and likeliness, not Sunghoon or potential business partners while you sit in the back and take notes during every conversation. You want to live your life without being chained to a desk and learn what it feels like to try something new. 

For the past six years, your life has been dedicated to Sunghoon and only Sunghoon. 

“Sir?” You say tentatively, knocking on his door while pushing the heavy wooden door open. 

“Come in.” 

You know well enough he’s got nothing on his schedule that would impose a distraction. You slip into the room and close the door behind you with your fingers gripping a beige Manila folder behind your back. Sunghoon wears a suit that’s tailored to his likeness and his hair is slicked back like he’s trying to resemble Patrick Bateman from American Psycho. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of an unscheduled interruption?” Sunghoon asks with humor in his tone. He knows you typically keep to your inbox unless something is imminently urgent.

He turns around from looking outside of his window and watches as you hesitantly walk towards his desk. The office space is huge, bigger than your entire living room, and the sudden realization that you’re about to make the biggest change of your life is weighing on your shoulders. Your feet feel heavy beneath you when Sunghoon glances between your face and the folder in your hands. 

“What’s this?”

You don’t hesitate to open it and put it on his desk facing up.

“My resignation letter.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Sunghoon stares at the letter you’ve typed out and notices the large, black signature at the bottom of the page. His eyes flicker back at you as if to detect any lie in your face before he scoffs with a short laugh.

“Right. April Fool’s Day has already passed. No need to keep me on my toes like you usually do, though I appreciate a good joke.” 

You shake your head. “I’m being serious, Sir. I’m quitting.” 

The seriousness of your voice seems to catch him. He takes a seat on his leather chair and pulls himself closer to the desk to fully examine the letter.

“Dear Mr. Park, I am writing to inform you that I will be resigning from my position as your personal assistant at Park Incorporated. My final day will be two months from the day I hand you this resignation letter. I am committed to ensuring a smooth transition, and will facilitate seeking a replacement while I complete projects and tasks on my docket.” 

He looks up at you.

“You’re breaking up with me.” 

“No, I’m quitting this job.”

“Which is the same as breaking up with me. You’re my business partner, for God’s sake. You come with me to every meeting and important event that requires my presence.”

“I’m your assistant. There are many people who would die to be able to do that for you.”

He looks at you like you’ve set his office on fire. “I will not let you quit.” 

You tilt your head. “That’s not how it works, you know. Soobin from HR will process my resignation, even if you beg him not to. I’m giving you a two months' notice because that is how much I value my time here.” Sunghoon clasps his hands as if trying to make sense of the matter.

“But why? Why now? You’re impeccable at your job. Is the pay not suitable enough for you? I can give you a generous bonus and pay raise, if that will convince you to stay. Do you want a bigger office or reduced working hours?” 

“I don’t need any of that. I’ve made up my mind, Sir.”

“Why?” 

With a sigh, you sit down in front of him. “I’ve spent nearly every day for the last six years catering to the needs of you and this company. I’ve loved my time here, and I credit my ability to navigate this industry to you and this job. You’ve given me incredible opportunities that I probably wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere, and it’s been fun learning the ins and outs of this business.

“But I don't have a personal life at all. My days are spent catering to your needs. I don’t have many friends aside from the people I see in this building. I don’t travel and I’ve had to miss important family milestones because of work obligations.”

“Is more time off what you need?” Sunghoon interrupts. “You’ve earned your fair share of requested time offs, even if it’s a personal day for no reason. You’re responsible enough for me to know you can handle your workload when you get back.” 

You shake your head. “It’s not just that. I…I don’t meet new people anymore. I don’t make new friends and I don’t date because this job eats up my life. I feel like I’ve been wrapped up in this company and doing whatever it takes to help it succeed while neglecting my own needs. I’ve had six incredible years, but it’s time for me to move on.”

“…Date?”

With a sigh, you respond. “Yes, Sir. Just because you can find women at the snap of your fingers doesn't mean that everybody else can too.” 

“You don’t date at all?”

You scratch the inside of your wrist at his question. “I can’t date. I don’t have the time to.”

“So you’re quitting because you want to date.”

“No. I’m quitting because I want to experience life without being on call for when you need my help.” 

Sunghoon purses his lips and you can’t read his expression. In the years you’ve worked with him, learning his every mood has been critical to maintaining cordial balance between the two of you, and with other people who Sunghoon isn’t particularly fond of. You’ve extinguished emotional fires just by glancing at him, but the way he looks at you is something you can’t seem to figure out. 

While you wouldn’t say you’re exceptionally close with Sunghoon, you’d argue your relationship to him is far closer than other assistants in the firm. He might be hard headed and stubborn, but he’s compassionate and understanding. He doesn’t expect you to stay in the office until he leaves unless explicitly stated (which consists of half the week, but you can’t complain when some of your colleagues are constantly working longer days than you). 

He compensates you well from time to time, buying you new wardrobe for events he’s requested you to be at. You have a drawer full of exquisite jewelry. You’ve had the privilege of accompanying him on international business trips. From the outside, your life looks like one glamour shot that’s been afforded to you through diligent work, which is partially true, but seldom do people see the dark circles underneath your eyes or how many meals you skip because you need to cater to Sunghoon’s needs. 

For as lucky as your career has been thus far, it’s all on company time, and nothing is ever because you want to. You get the perks, but it’s a transaction. There’s nothing you want more than the freedom to choose what time you wake up and what time you go to bed.

“I can’t say I’m too happy with this news,” Sunghoon says as he leans back on his chair. “You and I work together really well. I don’t think I’ve ever had an assistant as diligent and as smart as you.” 

“You had three assistants before I came into the picture.” 

“They were terrible. Why did you think you went through six interviews?” 

“I can train my predecessor to be as excellent as I can be. I can do it in two months because that’s the time it took me to get used to you and your habits.” 

Sunghoon remains silent for a moment. 

“They’ve got big shoes to fill.” 

Part of you thinks he’s accepted your resignation. He doesn’t immediately grab the Manila folder with the papers in it. Rather, he closes it and keeps it shut on his desk with his hands clasped like he’s afraid it’s going to materialize and escort you out of his office.  

“You’re still needed for events and other internal-facing meetings until your time comes to an end.” 

“Of course, Sir.”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “There’s one tonight. I wasn’t going to have you come to this one initially, but given the circumstances, I think it’s fair that we squeeze in as many as possible before you’re off the hook, no?”

You can’t say you’re incredibly excited by the idea, but knowing Sunghoon, he’s either forgotten he needs someone to act as arm candy or one of his many flings bailed on him at the last minute. 

“I’ll have my car pick you up from your apartment at 8 P.M. Don’t worry about checking in early tomorrow, either. Come in at nine instead, and get some sleep tonight.” 

Nine is still early, especially if you’re going to accompany Sunghoon to an event this evening, but it’s better than getting four hours of shut eye before you’re needed the next day. 

***

A section of your wardrobe is dedicated to items Sunghoon has gifted you throughout the years you’ve been with him. They’re far more expensive and of higher quality than the garments you buy for yourself, and the jewelry is far too precious for you to mix in with your everyday wear. They sit in their own designated section, away from your business attire and weekend wear.

Back when you started this position, Sunghoon found it amusing that you refused the luxurious gifts he’d offer for large tasks such as acting as a liaison at black tie events or helping him with projects that required you to look more presentable than remaining in an office. He bought you enough dresses, shoes, and jewelry until you were able to rotate a few pieces so that you’d never have to wear the same thing twice in a row. To assuage your mind about the prices of each item, Sunghoon would tell you to wear it out on a date with a special someone or to important events that required you to dress up a bit.  

When you pull out a sleek baby blue powder dress that hugs your body in all the right places and jewelry to match, the memory makes you laugh. There hasn’t been any time for engaging in those types of things and your life does not reflect that of Sunghoon’s. They gather dust in your closet until you’re needed to make an appearance as his well-trained, capable assistant. His colleagues know to defer to you unless Sunghoon’s word needs to be confirmed, and that’s how the dynamic has been for the entirety of your working relationship with him. 

You don’t put much effort into your appearance tonight. After touching up your makeup and slipping on a pair of black sling backs that match a black Italian clutch purse he had gifted you on your first international trip, you wait for the car to arrive at your doorstep. 

Surprisingly, Sunghoon steps out from the backseat and holds the door open for you.

“…Sir?” 

“Right on time. You look stunning.” 

His compliment flies over your head as you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. You’re used to meeting Sunghoon at the fairgrounds and not holding the door open for you in his personal mode of transportation. The only time the two of you arrive together is when you depart from the office. Sunghoon is a busy man who makes work his priority. He doesn’t escort you from place to place. That’s your job.

“What are you doing here?” 

He beckons you inside of the car. The partition is raised to give the two of you some privacy. Sunghoon slides into the backseat and puts a respectable distance between the two of you when the driver begins to drive away.

“It dawned on me that I rely you on you for so many things, and yet, I can’t seem to take an hour of my day to ride with you to events I’ve asked you to be at.” 

“It’s my job.”

“No, your job is to make sure I don’t lose my head.”

“If letting you work while I drive alone makes your head stay on your shoulders, I think that’s a job well done.” 

He purses his lips. “Still, I don’t think ending my workday early to pick you up will kill me.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“This isn’t changing my mind, Sir. I still plan to leave the company.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Worth a try. But I meant what I said about accompanying you. We’re a team, even if your position is just my assistant.”

“Sir—”

“Sunghoon,” he interrupts. “Call me Sunghoon.”

“...Sunghoon.” He smiles.

“That’s more like it.” 

***

will there be a part 2? who knows

[fushigurhoez]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 - 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!

ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna

inc: allusions to multiple rounds, breeding kink, unprotected sex, irresponsible behavior, scent kink, reader is down BAD, manhandling, overstimulation, dry humping, mating press, cervix fucking? sukuna is his own warning, (degradation + dehumanization in his) true form heian era!kuna, sukuna’s stomach mouth, age gap between toji and reader bc duh (38/19+)

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨-

Gojo couldn’t help but feel like something was different about you. No, he knew something was different about you. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. You seemed to be…craving his presence more than usual, and that was saying something given his own level of clingy-ness. He didn’t want to make any assumptions as to what could be going on, chalking it up to you just missing him due to the recent influx of assignments he’d been tasked with. But as you both sat on the couch partaking in your weekly tradition of movie night, it seemed like you were more interested in him than whatever was on the screen. Rom-com? Horror maybe? You wouldn’t know. You had abandoned your spot on the couch in favor of his lap, which was fine and not inherently unusual. Except your face was tucked into his neck, leaving hot kisses on his smooth skin while your legs entrapped him like a damn boa constrictor. “B-baby” he reasoned earning a simple “hm?” from you, and he swears you wrapped your legs tighter. “Can you even see the movie?” He asked and you finally pulled back, quirking a brow at him. “I don’t really care about the movie toru.” And then your lips were back on him, sucking on the spot under his ear.

“But you’ve been talking about—shit—about this movie for weeks?” His breath hitched in his throat, hands coming to rest on your waist in order to ground himself and his focus so he could try and understand you.

“I’m more interested in you right now, toru.” You grind down in his lap, clothed center pressed to the semi-hard bulge in his pajama pants and his eyes widen, the hold on your waist becoming tighter. “baby, we just had sex this morning?” And while he wasn’t complaining that you wanted him, he was confused to say the least. You were fairly inexperienced compared to him so your stamina wasn’t exactly adequate for more than one round just yet.

“I’m ovulating, satoru” you explained, picking up on his confusion. For someone with six eyes he could be oblivious at times. “I need you to fuck me again.” You whisper in his ear like it’s a secret and he doesn’t need to look to know that he’s rock hard now. Your grinding has gotten more desperate, barely stopping long enough for you to slip one of your eager hands into his pants and underneath his briefs, savoring how hot and heavy he was in your palm.

“Fuck baby, okay. Let me eat you out first, yeah?” He moved to lay you back but you stopped him, pushing him back against the couch and grabbing one of his hands, forcing it into your panties and he almost moaned at the slickness that covered his fingers.

“Don’t need it.” You rasped, pulling him out of his pants and sliding your underwear to the side, positioning his glistening tip to your wet vagina. His hands slid down and held your hips in place, stopping you from dropping down on him and you whined. You fucking whined because he wouldn’t let you sink his cock into you already.

“If you’re ovulating we should really use a condom baby” he tried to be the voice of reason but you weren’t hearing him, the only thing in your head was getting him inside you.

“Don’t want that, wanna feel you without it” you said as though it was perfectly understandable, paying no mind to the stunned look on his face.

“Satoru, please. It hurts” and just like that, all logic was lost in his mind, taking his hands off your hips and throwing them over the couch behind him lazily.

“Fine, but you’re doing all the work.”

And work you did, spearing yourself down on him in one go, ignoring the slight burn you felt as your hole stretched around him. You didn’t take any time to adjust, taking the pleasure with the pain as your arms slung themselves around his shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock, but it wasn’t enough. You planted your feet on the couch on either side of him in a squat position, hoisting yourself up until only his tip was nestled inside you before slamming down on his dick, eliciting what just might have been the hottest fucking groan from him. His big hands flew to your ass, squeezing it and spreading you open so that he could somehow get deeper inside you.

“Oh my fucking god baby, fuck!” He grunted, crudely planting his feet on the coffee table and thrusting up into you just as you fucked down on him, meeting you in the middle. So much for making you do all the work.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨-

Geto sighed as he jammed the key into the lock of the apartment, soreness from his session at the gym already setting in. He locks the door behind him and sets his gym bag on the island in the kitchen, removing his headphones from around his neck and setting them down just as he feels arms wrap around his waist and a soft body pressed flush to his back. He looks over his shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Hey love.” You stand on the tips of your toes, arms tightening around him as you kiss him hello. His abs are firm under your fingers, the thin cotton T-shirt doing nothing to soften their definition. He can barely pull away from the kiss to ask you how your day was before your lips are on his again and he lets out a surprised chuckle, turning around in your embrace to snake his strong arms around your waist. Your tongue ghosts over his bottom lip and he lets you in, turning his head to the side the slot your lips closer together as you moan into his mouth, something you’re normally shy about doing. He tries to pull away again, but your lips follow his like he’s trying to take away your oxygen. You arch into his hold, breasts crushed to his hard chest. He pulls away again, nipping at your now swollen bottom lip as a warning not to follow.

“..I take it someone missed me.” He says, and it’s not a question..he can tell. You’re breathing heavier than usual, your body is still glued to his and you’re looking at him like it’d be a betrayal for him to let you go.

“mhm” you nod and that shyness he knows all too well rears its head, in the form of you hiding your face in his chest. At least that’s what he thought you were doing. He kisses the top of your head, hand caressing your back under his shirt that you had stolen.

“I know you need me, but I have to shower my love.”

“N-no!” You quickly protest, surprising him yet again when your hands grip his shirt even though he hadn’t made any efforts to leave.

“No?” He laughed and it rumbled in his chest. “I’m all sweaty though”

“like the way you smell.” You admit, and he suddenly understands why you’ve been nuzzling your nose into his chest.

“Is that so?” He teases, his hand creeping under the oversized shirt you were wearing to cup your hot cunt through your panties. The fabric was soaked and sticky with your arousal.

“Y-yes. I really like it sugu.” He hums.

“I believe you sweet girl.”

you hiss when he bunches them up in his hand, pulling on the front of your panties, the crotch of them sinking between your puffy lips, into your slit and applying pressure to your aching clit. Your hands fly to his arms, steadying yourself as you stand on the tips your toes again trying to escape the way he practically flosses your pussy with your own panties. He stares down into your eyes before he releases them and you sigh in relief, though your insatiable cunt craves for him to do it again.

“Please suguru..please.” You beg, tears burning at the edge of your lash line and he coos.

“You’re so needy, baby. What are you even asking me for?” He drives his hips forward, knocking yours back into the counter and it might have hurt had you not been so focused on the outline of his cock against you. He was so hard, you could imagine how good he would feel inside you—

“I asked you-“ he pulled his hips back suddenly, his hand pulling your panties up between your dripping slit again but harder this time, making you cry out. “—a question”

He kissed you, swallowing your sounds as he shifted your panties back n forth over your clit, the slightly rough texture of the intricate lace making your legs quiver. He shook his wrist quickly, still holding your underwear tight against your clit, showing no mercy and it almost felt like he was vibrating. He pulls away from your lips chuckling at the way your mouth opened in a wide ‘o’ nails digging into his biceps as you came, moaning his name loudly. You sob when he doesn’t stop, clawing at his wrist as a silent plea for him to stop. He finally lets go, grabbing one of your arms and manhandling you over the counter, face pressed to the cold marble before he’s tearing your panties down your legs groaning at the clear mess all over your pussy and inner thighs.

“You wanna tell me what has you this fucking worked up?” He asks, unable to resist slapping your ass. You gasp and his dick twitches in his pants at the way the fat wobbles under the palm of his hand.

“I’m ovulating..”

It was that sentence that got you bent over and fucked on the kitchen counter.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨-

“Ow!” You cry, hand reaching back to pull Toji’s hand away from your ass, which was now stinging after how hard he smacked it. “Toji that hurt!”

“Quit your whinin’. Told you to stop moving.” He said indifferently, continuing what he was doing on his phone. His arms were wrapped around your waist, eyes peering over your shoulder at his phone as the two of you laid in bed.

“Sorry. I’d hate to distract you while you text your other bitches.” You mumble into his neck as you lay on his chest. He cuts his eyes at you, winding his hand back to smack your ass again and you squeal, laughing as you grab his hand midair, lacing your small fingers with his. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

He glares at you for a bit longer, his gaze holding no real annoyance before he shakes his head and goes back to texting shiu. You adjust yourself in his lap, untangling your legs from his in favor of straddling him. You move your hips and toji thinks you’re just trying to get comfortable, arm tightening around your waist to keep you still. A few quiet minutes pass by before you start to rock in his lap, trying to be sneaky about it. Toji sighs in agitation, thumb hovering over his phone screen mid-text.

“Y/n”

You don’t respond, kissing his neck almost as if trying to distract him from what you were doing. He buries his hand in your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head out of his neck, an unimpressed look on his face.

“What..the fuck are you doing.” He asks, truly tired. Tired of your shit.

“I’m horny.” You say shamelessly and he thinks back to the start of your relationship, when you shyly asked him to take your virginity. What had he done?

“Of course you are. I’m busy right now.” He said flatly, going back to his conversation. You groaned as though you had been wounded, face planting dramatically into the pillow his head was resting on.

“You need to get busy with this pussy.” You mutter, but with how close you were to his ear you might as well have just said it out loud.

Toji scoffs incredulously, pulling on your hair again to get you to look at him, those jade eyes you love so much piercing through you.

“The fuck did you just say?” He wanted to laugh. You had never, ever been this straightforward with him.

“You heard me.” You doubled down and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You had a challenging look on your face as though you were daring him to do something about the way you had just spoken to him.

“You look real proud of yourself doll, it’s cute.” He said and your face fell, making him smile fully at your defeat, canines gleaming and making you wonder what it’d be like to feel them sink into your neck, or maybe your breast..

“you’re ovulating. I told you i’m not fucking you until you’re done.”

“Excuses, excuses. If you can’t keep up with me, then just say that old man.”

You’d really gone and done it now. Toji raised his brows at you briefly before sighing and tossing his phone somewhere on the bed. He pushed you off of him harshly and you fell back onto the bed, bouncing slightly. He got off the bed, grabbing your ankles and dragging you down to the edge making you let out a surprised squeak as he reached under the shirt of his you were wearing and snatched your panties down your legs, scoffing at how wet and slimy they were in the middle. He undid the drawstring on his sweatpants, dropping them to his feet and you could feel that familiar heartbeat inside of you at the sound and sight of his cock slapping his lower abdomen. He got on the bed again, pushing your legs up to your chest and you gasped.

“T-toji, foreplay?” You asked, suddenly scared and he shook his head as he rubbed the thick head of his cock through your syrupy folds, bumping into your sensitive clit. “You don’t need it.” And then he sunk into you in one thrust, pushing your legs up even further, beside your head and you screamed at the way his cock head grazed over your gspot and then kissed your cervix, which was more sensitive due to you ovulating. Your hand pushed at his tummy, trying to put some distance between him and you and he didn’t bother moving it, just fucked you harder, faster. “Don’t fucking run from it.” He groaned, feeling himself deep inside of you and if he could somehow stuff his balls in too then he probably would.

“And don’t come crying to me when you don’t get your period next month either.”

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Sukuna couldn’t take it anymore. It was uncharacteristic of him to stop a task before finishing, to neglect whatever duties that fit into his schedule as a king. But how could he focus on the construction plans for the estate when you clearly needed him? He had sensed it this morning in the way that you clung to him as he was getting out of bed, like you didn’t want him to leave. Not that that was out of the ordinary for you, he had come to accept that you were extraordinarily clingy. But your hold on him felt more needy, like you were desperate for something. Along with your displeasure with his departure, there has been a sickeningly sweet smell following him, tormenting him briefly before dispersing like it was never even there. He had brushed it off, having more pressing matters to attend to around the estate and it had been hours since then. He ceases his contemplation, standing up from the end of the table as the eyes of his servants stare at the ground, not daring to follow his movements.

“Uruame, see to it that this is done adequately. There’s something else that requires my attention.”

“Yes my lord.”

He enters his quarters, not finding you in your usual place on his throne, so he makes his way to your shared bedroom. There is no sign of you except your night attire folded on your side of the bed. He can feel the steamy drifting under the door and hears the sound of the bath turning off, so he loosens his robe revealing his tattooed chest before he sits on his side of the bed awaiting your emergence.

You open the door and sigh in relief at the feeling of cool air on your warm skin, tightening the towel around your body. You tense when you register Sukuna’s presence, deep red eyes trained on you almost suspiciously. He’s staring you down, observing you. You relax, walking towards the bed with your hand holding the top of the towel secure to your body. “Can I help you my lord.” You ask and he growls low in his throat, because you only ever call him that when you’re being a smartass. He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your chest and he towers over you despite being sat.

“Do not play coy. You’ve some nerve playing this game with me woman.” You tilt your head at him subconsciously.

“As much as I adore trolling you kuna, I’m not sure what you mean.”

He lets go of your wrist and brings you closer to him, pulling you to stand between his legs and your hands steady themselves on his shoulders as you stand there awkwardly with his large hand on your waist. He growls again when that damn smell invades his nose again, only this time it’s stronger. He’s nosing down the side of your neck, and the smell of your shampoo is there too but it’s weak in comparison to the other scent. It’s a heady, musky type of scent with a sweetness that can only be described as alluring. So enticing that he had to abandon all his responsibilities for the day to follow it. His head moves lower, nose trailing down your chest until he reaches your towel. You try and hold his head, hands pulling on his pink hair but he doesn’t stop his descent down your body, his keen nose leading him to the spot between your thighs, where he spends most of his nights. You grip his hair tighter, trying to push him away bashfully when he inhales greedily.

“S-Sukuna! What are you—“ he switches places with you, and suddenly you’re lying back on the bed while his four arms cage you in underneath him.

“Hush, woman. Why didn’t you tell me you needed my attention this morning?”

You look away from him in embarrassment but he’s having none of it, forcefully tilting your face back to him with a single finger.

“dunno what you’re talking about.” You lie and he hums unconvinced.

“I can smell your arousal, it’s strong today.. you needed me then, and you need me now, so why are you not voicing your requirements?”

“I wasn’t about to keep you from your work just because I’m ovulating, kuna.” He doesn’t say anything, looking down at you slightly displeased.

You’re about to speak again when you feel something that you quickly recognize as his stomach tongue, hot and wet sliding up your slit, eagerly lapping up your slick. He sees the way your thoughts leave you when he puts his tongue on you, fucking it into you and licking you out, before twirling the tip of it over your sensitive clit. You can’t help but spread your legs for more and he can’t contain his excitement and curiosity about your body in this state, ripping the flimsy white towel off of your body and throwing it behind him as if it were trash.

“Explain this “ovulation” to me at once” he demands, not letting up on your weeping pussy to allow you to speak. You know it’s because he enjoys watching you struggle around your words, when you’re normally so bold without any hesitation over that mouth of yours.

“my body w-wants a baby, so it makes me—fuck! it makes me feel..” the word lingers at the tip of your tongue but the tip of Sukuna’s tongue is still twirling over your clit, working you up further.

“makes you feel horny? desperate to keep me in bed all day so I can give you both of my cocks? hm? breed you nice n full like a proper bitch?”

“Yes kunaaa, mm fuck!” His words are enough to make your eyes roll back into your head, convulsing as you cream all over the fat tongue devouring your pussy. You shake slightly, even after your orgasm and the mouth on his stomach licks the remnants of your orgasm off his lower abdomen greedily before sealing shut.

“Very well then, present yourself to me.”

Your fucked out brain has a hard time computing his words as you watch him undo his robe the rest of the way, revealing his cocks.

“w-what?” You ask and he sits up on the bed, freeing you from his weight and giving you room to move.

“If it’s a baby that your body desires that’s what i shall give. I said present yourself to me. I won’t ask again.”

You shakily move to position yourself on all fours, arms wobbling as you hold your upper body up and he laughs humorlessly.

“you’re asking me to give you my seed, and that’s the best you can do?” He presses the head of one of his dicks to your hole and it flutters at the anticipation of being stuffed.

You drop your shoulders down on the bed, back bent in a deep arch, as you wiggle your ass at him shamelessly.

“Please kuna.” You beg helplessly and you can hear how pleased he is in his tone.

“Good bitch.”

[fastandcarlos]

Wedding Nerves : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: it's the night before your wedding and lando can't bare to spend it all alone

Your head shook as another knock at the door came, knowing exactly who was on the other side. You tried your best to ignore it as you unpacked your suitcase, but they were ever so persistent, knocking once again. 

“Lando, you shouldn’t be here,” you called out, walking over to the door. “You can stand there all night long but I’m not opening the door. The boys will all be wondering where you are.” 

“I don’t care abou them,” Lando replied, leaning against the other side of the door. “I just want to see you one last time before tomorrow, just a couple of minutes, that’s all that I’m asking for.” 

Your eyes closed as you leant on the door, hearing Lando sigh. His voice was desperate as he tapped on the door once again, letting you know that he was still there. You could only smile at how determined Lando was, refusing to go without seeing you. 

“You’ll get to see me forever after tomorrow,” you tried to assure him, “it’s only one night away from each other, we’ve done it hundreds of times before.” 

Lando’s head shook, “this time it’s different, it’s our wedding morning tomorrow.” 

“Why are you here Lando?” You groaned, beginning to think that there was more to things than he was letting on. “Something’s not gone wrong, has it?” 

His head shook, remembering that you couldn’t see him. “I spoke to George and he said Carmen told him that you were feeling nervous. I wanted to come and see you and make sure that you were alright, I don’t want you to be nervous, you should be excited.” 

“I am excited,” you responded, dropping down to the floor, “tomorrow is just such a big deal, and there’s so many people going to be there. I hate having all that attention on me, that’s all.” 

Lando remained where he was, only wanting to see you more now that he knew how you felt, keen to settle your nerves and reassure you not to worry. 

“Let me see you and just give you a hug,” Lando requested, tapping the door once again. “We’re fine to see each other, tradition is only tomorrow morning, not that either of us really care about that anyway.” 

The sound of the lock turning made Lando jump up, watching as you opened the door slightly. It was wide enough for Lando to see you, but not open enough for him to be able to reach in and hold onto you. 

“Lando, I promise you that I’m absolutely fine. Go and enjoy your evening.” 

“I can’t see well enough to be sure,” he grinned, refusing to give up quite that easily, trying to push the door to fit his hand through it. “What’s the point of just letting me see a bit of you, why not just open the door all the way?” 

“Because once you’re here I know you won’t go away,” you chuckled. 

Lando’s eyes widened at your assumption, shaking his head in reply to you. The smile on his face told you otherwise though, you knew exactly what he was up to, and once he was in, there was no way that he was going to be walking back out again. 

You tried your best to keep the door shut, but Lando was far stronger than you were, digging his heels into the ground and pushing the door open, stumbling over his feet and falling straight into your hotel room. 

“Serves you right,” you grinned, offering your hand to help him up.  

Lando stood himself up and straightened his clothes before heading in your direction. His arms wrapped around your frame as he tightly held you against his chest, pressing several kisses against the top of your head, refusing to let go now that he had a hold of you. 

Lando kicked the door to your hotel room shut, keeping you in his hold as he walked you both over to your bed, dropping down in the middle of it with you by his side, making himself comfortable like he was there for the night. 

After a few moments, Lando’s hand trailed along your back. “There’s no need to worry about tomorrow you know, it’s going to be perfect, I’m sure of it.” 

With all the efforts you and Lando had put in, you knew there was no reason to worry, there was no chance of anything going wrong. You had the perfect place, perfect theme, and everyone who you wanted to attend was doing so, there was nothing more you could ask for. 

“Maybe if you are nervous, it might be a good idea for me to stay here,” Lando added, catching your eyes roll. “I mean we both know how much it helps when you sleep next to me when you’re worrying, so it makes perfect sense, right?” 

“I’m not going to let you stay,” you said, quickly shutting Lando down. 

Lando hummed in reply to you, “we both know how this is going to work, I’m going to wear you down until you say yes, you know that, don’t you?” 

“Nope,” you laughed, “I refuse to cave tonight, you’ll be gone soon.” 

“You’ll have to get rid of me,” Lando told you, “and judging by your hand against my chest, I’d say that you’re pretty happy for me to stay a while still yet.” 

You quickly moved your hand off of Lando’s chest, shuffling across the bed to create some distance between you both. Lando looked at you in surprise, trying to move back towards you again, only for you to move back too. 

“It’s going to be a pretty rubbish stag do if you’re not there,” you reminded him, standing up from the bed. “Plus, you only said that you wanted a couple of minutes of my time.” 

“I don’t need a stupid stag do, not when I could spend my night with you instead,” Lando sighed, sitting up in the middle of the bed. “Do you really actually want me to go?” 

You tried to ignore the little voice in your head telling Lando to stay, nodding your head. You didn’t want him to miss out on his stag do, the party that he had been looking forward to for so long. 

“I should probably go,” Lando pouted, sliding off of the bed. His shoulders hung low, his feet dragging along the floor dejectedly. “But all you have to do is give me a call and I’ll forget all about the boys tonight and rush straight over here to be with you instead.” 

“Go on,” you grinned, opening up the door. “I’ll be alright without you for one night.” 

Lando stood in the doorway, turning back to face you one final time, letting you see just how disappointed he was that you were making him leave. 

“In five years, I think this is the first time you’ve declined to spend the night with me,” Lando mused, “and the night before my wedding too.” 

“I’m not declining to spend the night with you,” you protested, “this is what we agreed on, you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life after tomorrow anyway.” 

“I can’t believe it,” Lando smiled, “the rest of our lives together.” 

“Only if you go,” you teased, pushing Lando out of the door. “Go and enjoy your evening, I’ll see you tomorrow Lando.” 

“I can’t wait to marry you sweetheart.” 

“I know, me too Lan.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[salemlunaa]

the neediness makes absolutely no sense ᥫ᭡

not only is the begging dumb, it’s illogical

inducing the void is one of the easiest things you can, do, easier than breathing

at anytime of the day you relax

heavy breathing

focus on the darkness in your eyes

affirm “I AM” or let your mind wonder, anything to keep your consciousness away from the 3D

and you’ve done it

theres no “i’ve tried but-” “but when i do it” there’s is no trial and error for a god, you aren’t special, you’re not exempt from the law of assumption. You’re not the exception, you can do it. There’s no trying, just be, it’s so easy that this neediness a lot of you are showing just doesn’t make any sense.

And when I say that you might think I’m crazy. Because some of you need to get out of the life you’re living, you need to escape, you need the void. Kill that mindset immediately, because that need just shows that you don’t believe you are the operant power, the void doesn’t gift you anything. It’s just a state of consciousness, you manifest, not the void, so the neediness is completely irrational.

its just a state of consciousness that you are inducing through relaxation and or meditation. Which is why the begging and the neediness makes no sense.

If you are “I AM” as you say you are, than you are everything. You can do everything. And the law of assumption is that if think it to be true, it has already been. Why are you begging for something that is already happened, if you are a “void master” why are you still asking the same questions you KNOW the answers to. Stop stalling.

If you order a package, and it arrives, you aren’t going to be emailing amazon asking how to get your package and complaining that it hasn’t come, because you’ll look pretty stupid, won’t you? This neediness doesn’t make sense because you’ve already induced the void state and you are already a master at the inducing pure consciousness.

Another reason why it doesn’t make sense is because it’s so easy. Why are you still here begging for something that is as easy as breathing, it’s illogical. The void state is just a state of consciousness where any intention can be set without resistance, that’s it. That’s all it is. It’s not magic, and you’ll roll your eyes and say “I know it’s not magic” but why are you still asking for help?

If you knew 100% the simplicity of it, you wouldn’t need that subliminal, you wouldn’t need someone to give you guidance EVERY step of the way, you wouldn’t need to do this 20-step yoga routine, you wouldn’t need to shamelessly ask others to “enter” for you, you wouldn’t need external bullshit to do something that’s internal. You wouldn’t need an “instant method”, you wouldn’t need to read paragraph on paragraph, post after post trying to make it “click”.

If you had a boyfriend you wouldn’t need to read post after post telling you how to get one would you. You wouldn’t be begging people to help you get a boyfriend if he was right next to you in bed. You wouldn’t be reading relationship success stories trying to feel something. Why? because you don’t need to. You already have one.

The void is already yours, it has been the second you thought about it because manifestation is instant so this desperation and this feeling of despair makes absolutely no sense

stop the desperation and start standing firm, do i really need to remind you who you are? is the void your bitch or is it the other way around?

👜💋 stop needing start deciding, it’s so so simple

[love4ng1e]

⭑.ᐟ YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO SACRIFICE YOUR IDENTITY.

ᥫ᭡. and that's the best thing you'll ever do.

We are manifesting from the inside and out. Always. And identidy is the blueprint.

You don't get what you wish for. You don't get what you "try" for. You get what you assume yourself to be.

And that’s why's you're going to have to let go of the you who keeps holding on to what is. To the version of you who keeps saying:

"But nothings change yet"

"What if it doesn't work for me?

You can't bring the old you into the life you keep saying you want. There can only ever be one leader.

That version of you is still loyal to their past. They're loyal to fear, to logic, to trauma, to timelines, to external proof.

The law of assumption demands the ego death. It asks you to give up the version of you who has been surviving, clinging to old beliefs, replaying pain as your personality.

You will have to sacrifice your identity, and that's the cost of embodiment.

You can't be both:

The person who assumes they're unwanted AND the person in a passionate, secure relationship.

The person who thinks money is hard to get AND the person living in overflow.

The person who is always anxious and unsure AND the person who walks like life bends for them.

You're going to have to be uncomfortable to get comfortable. You're going to have to feel fake. You're going to have to feel delusional. That's exactly the point.

Your old identity wants to keep you in familiar energy, even when it's painful.

But your new identity is where the freedom is. Where the love is. Where the money is. Where everything is.

So yeah, this isn’t about scripting harder. It’s not about 10 more affirmations. It’s about asking yourself :

What version of me do I choose to be, no matter what’s going on outside of me?

And then having the audacity to be them now. Even before the money hits your account. Even before they call you back. Even before anyone claps for you.

Because once you shift your identity, the world has no choice but to catch up. Reality is not separate from you. It’s reflecting you.

And the moment you choose to be them without fear, hesitation, or apology, everything you want finds you. Fast.

So sacrifice who you were. They did their best, but their job is done. Let them rest.

You’re not them anymore. You’re you. The real you. The limitless you. The you who creates their world just by deciding. Now step into it. They're waiting.

YOU'RE NOT FAKING IT. YOU'RE REMEMBERING WHO YOU ARE. - 𝜗𝜚

[sourappl3s]

➳༻❀YOU ALREADY HAVE YOUR DESIRES❀༺➳

you already have your desires the moment you say you do, so congratulate yourself you finally made it the end! don’t ask “where is it” don’t ask “how” because you simply have all it in imagination. imagination is your source make it your home! fall in love with it, i won’t even call it desires anymore because you claimed them so now they’re just part of your daily life! for example if you say “I have 70 million dollars” then wow you have 70 million dollars! in imagination. go experience having 70 million dollars in imagination and know that you now have 70 million dollars. if you’re the person to think feeling is key then also feel as if you have 70 million dollars. don’t think against it don’t even complain saying “ugh im so broke” don’t do that, all you have to do is acknowledge you have it in imagination then relax and move on with your day, persist in that assumption, persistence doesn’t mean affirm until you’re tired, or affirm to “make things come faster” or to just try to get something in the 3D. its just not taking NO for an answer. its not affirm until you get its affirm as you see it. you’re the one who controls the when, where and how. if you’re letting the 3D do that for you then you won’t see any change, this is why we always say make your own rules for reality. MY rules are very simple.

have a desire , give it to myself in the 4D, persist and affirm in imagination.

its that simple! you don’t need to make manifesting feel like a chore, because in reality you’re not manifesting ANYTHING, you’re switching your awareness to something you already have. in simpler terms you’re just remembering that you have what you want already. to live in the end always always ALWAYSSS go to the end goal in imagination. you don’t need to focus on progress because manifesting is never a progress. its all instant. i’m not one to care about self-concept because i became a master at manifesting with a dull self concept. if you think you need self concept feel free to use it! remember its just my beliefs. manifesting is supposed to be fun and easy, don’t limit yourself to only one assumption, you can make a billion assumptions if you want and you will immediately have them all in imagination because inner man is the one that truly matters. the 3D is a mirror to the 4D so your success is inevitable. meaning you’re 100% guaranteed success! because you as god are in deserving of a paradise life. (sorry to the religious people if you don’t like being called god). just relax and breathe now, your suffering and misery are finally over now, you have what you once wanted, now live life without fear or panic, you have it, it’s already done. always look within for proof.

[princessaffirms]

“can i manifest ___?” YES, and here’s why 💐✨

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

hi angels! ₊˚⊹♡ this is, without a doubt, one of the most frequently asked questions in my inbox right now. and the answer is always the same: YES. you can manifest whatever you want, because it’s literally UNIVERSAL LAW (law of assumption). let’s dive a bit deeper!

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🤍✨ you can manifest ANYTHING you desire. there are NO LIMITS.

the universe doesn’t separate “easy” from “hard,” or “realistic” from “unrealistic.”

that’s an assumption thing. that’s a limiting belief thing.

manifesting isn’t about whether something is “possible” or “difficult”. it’s about what you ASSUME to be NORMAL and possible for you.

so whether it’s:

love

money

a new face

fame

success

clear skin

shifting to a different reality

etc…

the answer is always: YES. YOU CAN MANIFEST IT!!

if you can assume it into existence in your 4D (inner world/reality/mind), it can reflect in your 3d (physical reality).

so basically: if you can IMAGINE it, you can EXPERIENCE it

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🤍✨ the only question that matters is:

are you still defending your limiting beliefs? are you still checking for evidence in the 3D? because YOU are the OPERANT power.

and your assumptions? they’re EVERYTHING. because that’s all that truly exists.

your 3D is just a reflection — a mirror of your 4D. when you shift realities (because manifestation is just shifting to/CHOOSING the reality where you have your desire), you’re not forcing anything. you’re simply PROJECTING your 4D (your inner world, your assumptions, your chosen identity) into the 3D.

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🤍✨ but WHY exactly is there no limit?

because the only true “limit” is the one you’ve assumed into existence.

if you assume it’s not possible, it won’t be. not because it can’t be, but because you said so.

your 4D = your consciousness, awareness, self-concept, assumptions, beliefs, identity. and whatever is held there as truth, MUST echo out into the 3D. it’s inevitable. IT’S LAW.

and here’s the best part: your 4D is LIMITLESS. it’s your soul’s sandbox!!

it exists on a spiritual plane that can’t be measured, timed, or constrained by 3D laws.

science can study the projection (the 3D echo), but not the source. and YOU are the source. your soul, your consciousness, your awareness, your “I AM” is what shapes and shifts realities.

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🤍✨ so if you’re trying to “SEE it to BELIEVE it,” FLIP it:

you must ASSUME it to SEE it.

because your 4D creates, and your 3D follows. it has no choice but to reflect YOU. give yourself the evidence internally, and it’ll reflect externally. every. single. time. you don’t necessarily have to be super euphoric every single time you affirm, you just have to PERSIST relentlessly in those affirmations.

because with repetition and persistence, your affirmations BECOME assumptions. and when i say repetition, i don’t necessarily mean think about your affirmations 24/7. but when you do think of your desire, choose to fill your mind with your affirmations instead of “what ifs”.

consistently CHOOSE your desired reality. release the old story and stop identifying with a reality/timeline that you don’t want. every thought is a decision. a choice. it’s the root of everything. every action starts with a thought: conscious or unconscious. so you ALWAYS have a choice. are you going to reaffirm the old story, or step into your desired reality? 🫶 the power is in YOUR hands. all you have to do is CHOOSE it.

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🔗✨ RELEVANT BLOGS I’VE WRITTEN THAT I SUGGEST CHECKING OUT:

⤷ shifting is EFFORTLESS — and you’ve been doing it all along 🪸✨

⤷ the REAL YOU is your SOUL — and that’s what SHIFTS realities 🌌✨

⤷ DON’T WAIT for external proof — CREATE the evidence. ⚡️✨

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

i hope this helped you realize your true power and limitless nature! as always, my inbox is open if you have any more questions or just want to chat! i respond much faster to asks than DMs 🤍

sending so much love and light <3

[cultofcola]

hey, what do i do if it’s been so long and i still haven’t shifted? i’m losing faith in shifting… how do i even get it back? i really don’t know, and it’s making me sad :( i want to shift so badly...

faith means nothing. this is not a religion. this is how life works. you don’t have to believe in shifting to shift. you don’t have to believe in yourself to shift. you don’t have to believe others who talk about their experiences in their drs to shift. you can shift when you are in utter desperation. you are still shifting whatever you want it or not. and before you say "but for me shifting is only valid when it’s in my dr" well, then you are still shifting every second to your dr. even when you do not see it. even you are feeling like shit. even when you are about to lose it. it’s okay to be sad, and you can still shift. you don’t have to be all rainbows and unicorns.

and listen, you asked me. i will give you the answer i believe in. i will say to you what i think its the easiest way. i dont like to say “listen to 20 subliminals and affirm all day until you are going mad and meditate three hours and lay in bed for hours without moving or swallowing your own saliva” because i hate doing all that. it makes shifting feel like a performance, and that’s not what i stand for. so if you are tired to hear the same thing everytime, sorry. find someone else. (and because of a recent anon ask i got, i feel the need to say this: there's no point in asking if you are not going to do it anyway. so or you like what i say and do it or you just move on without complaining & hating on me in my asks).

you want to shift so badly? good. your desire is the thing that pushed you until now, not the time that has passed since the day you discovered shifting. the whole 'you want it so bad because you have already it in the future' saying? go by that. but your future is not far away, it's right here.

stop thinking about your past with shifting. what’s even the point in complaining and crying about it? ok. it happened. anyway, its going to be pointless when you're in your dr and you realize that time means absolutely nothing. really, all you do by complaining is just slapping yourself in the face over and over, but just mentally. let it go. think about now.

and now, again, your desire. you are here asking me how to do it after a long time, all because you want it so bad. so let me hold your hand while a say this, start with realizing that your desire, actually, worked. you did it. all of your emotions did you a favour, and you finally reached what you wanted so bad. you already shifted. you won the igaf battle. if the 3d is making you see your cr bedroom, it's just a delay. your mind already knows the truth, aka that you are in your dr now. your eyes are catching up. and even if it feels like a joke at first, persist. it doesn’t need to be 30 times for minute. you go through your day just knowing that your eyes are catching up with the rest of you.

saying that you still haven't shifted doesn’t do you any favours. by saying that you are feeding the delusional part of your mind that is making you think that you are not in your dr. which is, as i said, delusional, because you were always in your dr to begin with.

no because let’s be realistic here. what is 'fuck i still see my cr' doing for you?????

believing "nothing happens when i assume" is not helping you. the whole point of assumptions is that you make them. negative and positive. if you keep looking at the 3d as the final answer, then you didn’t assume shit in the first place.

you should not accept what you see. you are not accepting your cr. you decide what you want, you move on. if your 3d keeps showing you this cr, as i said, you just tell miss 3d that you don’t care and you do not accept her present. why would you think about it again again and again ??? that ain’t being secure of your assumptions. you say to your brain that its tricks are pointless because you are in your dr. and your dr is the one you accept and you see.

and honestly that’s it. shifting is not complicated. not when you don’t want it to be.