#void desire list

[rooh---111]

How to enter the VOID STATE to SHIFT REALITY INSTANTLY (Neville Goddard ...

This video is so helpful.... I have seen someone post it in Tumblr... 💖✨

[jupitershxfts]

DO NOT INTERACT IF ;

Racist, Homophobic, Transphobic, Xenophobic, Ableist,

Zionist

Anti Shifters

Support fast fashion. (Shien especially)

Support DSMP Members

South Park Fan

Partake in drama within the shifting community.

NSFW / Kink Blogs

Supporter of AI 'Art'

INTERACT MINDFULLY ;

21+

People with different opinions. I am always open for debate, but if you are rude or disrespectful when making points, expect to be blocked. 🫶

Non Shifters

PLEASE INTERACT IF ;

Shifters!!! ESPECIALLY if we have DRs in common!!!!

Mood board makers!

Artists

Editors

Writers

Collectors

[ace-avian]

I really wanna actually watch and finish Void Paradox but I know if I do I’m gonna want to rewrite it as well and I’m already planning on doing that with literally everything else—

Somebody help me—

[thatboxylady]

Hope things get better for you! Those assholes don't deserve ya! I hope you can find a job that treats you better!

Thank you. :(

I am extremely bummed out that this is even happening because it was really one of the best jobs I've ever had, but the office hostilities/looming over my shoulder/mixed-conflicting directions for tasks/not hiring a second person for that same space that really needs two people is just... I need to get out.

What happened today was even worse because I scheduled a class for the auditorium, then only found out today they were meeting in another classroom that I didn't schedule... after I had already set up the presenter in the auditorium. Which I was then berated for because "[I] should have known where the class was." I did know where the class was! Ya'll just moved it and no one told me!

I was loyal to this program and what happened today with that, plus a meeting with my current boss/old boss, was the last straw for me. I put together a outline of what I thought might make the office run smoother and there was no acknowledgement of it. The whole meeting was spent telling me what I do wrong and how little I apparently contribute. "You really don't do all that much" and "I don't understand what's wrong [with you]" like okay lmfao cool, glad to know all my hard work was appreciated, time to find a new job asap.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | 59

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, explicit content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 18.5k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Sometimes you decide on things by feelings or whatever seems right at that moment.  

You might've suggested something that has bit you in the ass right back. It didn't feel as satisfactory as it perhaps should have when you hinted on meeting new people. Although, it's a great opportunity for both of you to move on, even though just the thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. 

Not even the alcohol on it tastes as bitter. 

Regardless of what kind of opportunity it turned out to be, you had to do it. You're slowly losing it and being in Jungkook's presence alone is not helping. 

A jealous kind of person is not what you would describe yourself. When the word jealous comes to one's mind, they think of someone being possessive jealous in the worst kind of way.  You might've been possessive about people around you, but in a healthy way. 

Sure, the thing with Ester is not the greatest example of it, but that was something different. 

There's something building up, something you haven't experienced with Jungkook before. You were jealous in the friendliest possible way. You don't want to dwell on it more than necessary, but with Ester, you were scared of her becoming Jungkook's close friend. It sounds terrible this way, perhaps a little toxic too – it's hard to describe and put it into the right words so one could understand it clearly. There are parts where even you don't understand it.

You're confident about what you and he have. From the moment you met to the point where your friendship is at. Even that is a bit debatable, but you don't want to go there. Not right now. And possibly not in the near future. There are certain things you don't want to think about. 

Ones you're scared of.

Still. Seeing Jungkook having another friend who he genuinely gets along with, in a meaningful way caused you to act on the void you felt. 

But jealousy is a human emotion nevertheless. And you totally hate it at the moment. 

Because there's no Ester or any possible special friendships to be made. This is different. 

Why the fuck you hate staring at Jungkook and Nara. That's what she's named and introduced herself as when she happily sat behind Jungkook, holding his waist as he drove them through the small waves on a jet ski. 

Clearly, sharing a meaningful connection called friendship is not on top of her list. She's smiling the entire time they talk about whatever, even though it's the most casual topic. She's not the typical giggling type that smiles to whatever that's being said just to flirt. She seems genuinely interested in Jungkook. Maybe a little bit too much. 

Okay, definitely. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You tap your fingers on the table, sun setting down as you watch Jungkook and Nara taking a fucking walk along the beach. You hate that after three drinks, you still have your stomach crumbled and twisted around.

There's no reason for you to be mad at Jungkook. You told him to meet people. You freaking hinted about him trying to get it on with other people. Okay, maybe you're irritated he took it seriously and clearly goes for it a little too soon. You also told him you'll be fine here while they go on a walk alone.

“So it's just you two here?” Gabriel asks next to you, catching your attention for the hundredth time in the past three hours. Yes, that's how long you've been spending your time with them. 

They're fun and friendly. Nothing bad about them. Clearly young people who want to have fun. They're relaxed, fun and outgoing. 

So why the hell would you rather have Min Yoongi here than having to witness all of this?

Mentally shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts, you turn to Gabriel and tear your eyes off those two. You give him a stare that tells him enough about your suspicion by that sudden question. 

“Relax, I'm just asking.”

“And I should believe you because?” you question him. You might've appeared slightly cold toward him. You're not sure if his friendliness wants to aim somewhere else and to something more, or he's just that outgoing. 

Clearly, he doesn't want to back away because he's been very persistent. You give him that. 

There's a slight spark between the tug and pull game. But it's not the one you're looking for. 

“Because I'm telling the truth.”

There's chatter and laughter going from the other people you've been introduced to. You don't remember all of their names though. You hope you won't have to see them after this. God, that sounded so harsh. They're nice, you swear! But!

They don't give you any attention which makes your conversation slightly more comfortable. 

“You're still a stranger. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“So just believe me–”

“That literally goes against–”

He laughs. He's handsome. Has a sharp jawline and a cute smile. “You're a piece of work.”

“I know. I'm amazing.”

He can't seem to drop his eyes off you. You've experienced those before. Which is why you're not sure if he's honest about that or if it's the trick of flirting with you. It seems like men always have some kind of ulterior motive behind their behavior. 

You don't hate men. Even if it looks like it. You just don't trust them. 

Unless they are Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung. 

Surprisingly, at least Gabriel doesn't annoy you in the Min Yoongi type of way. He's nice, not pushy and annoying which you appreciate. 

You glance at him fully, both of you chuckling at your ridiculous conversation. 

There's a deeper meaning behind his question. For the first time, he showed more of his prying persona. You can't blame him. It was bound for people to question it. You've grown used to it.

“Yes, it's just me and Jungkook.”

He nods, already knowing this but traces his glass. He had one beer an hour ago and after that one, he switched to lemonades. Somehow, you find that a little attractive. 

“Our friends were supposed to go with us, but it didn't work for them unfortunately.”

He already knows you're staying at one of the beach houses, which to their expressions, they were a bit surprised to hear that. It's a more expensive side of the beach and while they're staying nearby, it might sound suggestive that you two alone are where families and lovers mostly stay. 

“Didn't work how? What if it's their way to get you together alone?” 

His question has a light tone full of teasing and suggestion, knowing exactly where this is going. He's trying to figure out your relationship with Jungkook, probably not believing two best friends that are on a vacation are only that. Friends. Well, that's quite debatable in all ways but you're not exactly going to share a full depth of anything related to your actual relationship to Jungkook. 

Gabriel doesn't give you any vibes of being a snitch, but he's still a stranger. A handsome one but not even his pretty face could make you spill the tea. Anyway, he's definitely not asking because he's skeptical but mostly asking for himself. 

You would've had to be blind and dumb not to notice his undeniable attention and interest aimed toward you. It's flattering and a compliment, really. More than anything else.

“Well, one of them ended up in a hospital with broken toes, so I would like to think he didn't do it on purpose.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly,” you deadpan, sipping more of your drink. 

He grins. He has a cocky twist to his smile. There's no denying he's a catch wherever he travels.

“Even though, you never know with him.” you say, watching Gabriel's confused look before you shrug and chuckle under your breath. 

Taehyung loves himself too much to hurt himself. No matter how much he would love you and Jungkook messing around more.

Speaking of him, you glance back at the couple walking down the beach. There's nothing special or weird about it. They're just walking beside each other, there's even some distance between them now. Is Jungkook listening to your previous words and just trying to – you don't even know how to name it. 

Is he trying to get to know someone else in hopes of getting more?

Is he planning to hook up with anyone from this group? 

Because he totally could and there would be nothing you would do about it. But why should you in the first place? It should not bother you. You should be in the front row hyping him up to do it. You should smack his shoulder and tell him to go for it, like all the guys do.

So why can't you?

You believe it's because you've never experienced anything similar to what you have with Jungkook. Obviously, he's more than the sex God you've portrayed him as in your head. He's definitely more than that. But speaking just about that alone, the thought of him going for someone else and showing that side of him to some stranger he just met, honestly bothers you. It's too soon. And you know if you weren't too thoughtful, you wouldn't be in this position because you would've kept hooking up. 

You wouldn't have to worry about him suddenly having sex with someone else. He would never do that when he's intimate with you. 

Fuck. Why are you even thinking of all of this? 

You did what was best for you and him. At the end of the day, it's just a matter of time before something like this happens. And you know it will and you're going to be okay with it. You will move on.

But perhaps you rushed into it. You've panicked and indirectly told him to just have fun. Without you. In that exact sense you're thinking of. 

He's smart. Of course he caught onto the meaning right away and something tells you he's doing exactly that. You can't even be mad at him because you told him. You were the one who encouraged and pushed him to move on.

“I didn't mean to pry,” Gabriel speaks up, reminding you of his presence and your cheeks heat up even more under the sun that's barely up there.

You try to cover up your staring by looking at the sea before finally looking at him. He couldn't see the exact direction of your vision, but he could've guessed because they're right there. 

“I just find it interesting.”

“Interesting?” You frown in confusion.

“You two.”

“What's so interesting about two best friends? Because one is a female and the other male?” 

His brows shoot up, catching up onto your slightly offended tone. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

He hesitates, but your lifted brow that demands a response causes him to lick his lips as he sighs. “You've been checking him a few times now.”

You grit your teeth together. Not because you're offended that he indeed noticed, but you're embarrassed that he did. 

“I've been checking on my best friend.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, trying to play it off as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't really trying to suggest something else. I just noticed that your friendship seems… special.”

“And it is.”

He nods, wrapping his hand around the drink as he picks up on the small droplets. “Nara won't bite his head off. She's cool.”

“I wasn't suggesting anything else.” You throw his words back at him. He notices, the left corner of his lips twisting in a smirk but he doesn't say anything about it. 

“Would your friend bite my head off though?”

You arch your brow at him, “And why would he do that?”

“I don't know, maybe for trying to get to know you?”

“You're getting to know me.” you point out, knowing what he's hinting at but you're playing it off. An amusement dances in your eyes and he sees it, his smirk only getting bigger but the determination of getting straight with you is even bigger. 

“I am.” he hums. 

“Well, I can't promise anything. Jungkook is protective.”

“Surely he would understand I don't have any vile intentions. I mean, you're single, right?”

You gulp, stopping for a moment. You could possibly make some kind of situation. You're single but you weren't exactly free and down to meeting someone else. For multiple reasons. You could tell him you just got out of… relationship that had nothing to do with dating. Simply said, you could tell him you had a fuck buddy and now you're just focusing on yourself.

But considering your previous topic, he could easily catch on and for some reason, you don't want to risk it. You don't want any strangers knowing about you and Jungkook. It seems awfully personal and intimate.

“I am.” you mutter.

“So? He can't chase all men away from you.”

And he probably won't. 

“I don't know… he did punch a guy for me.”

“What?” he deadpans. 

You chuckle, “He was my ex. Said some nasty stuff. Kook didn't like it.”

“So he… punched him?”

“Mhm,” You take another sip. “He did deserve it though.”

“I would never say nasty stuff about you. Or any woman.”

What are you supposed to do with that information?

“Never say never.” you shrug. 

“No, I mean it. I wasn't raised like that.”

“I don't think he was either. But sometimes we don't know ourselves. And sometimes we can surprise ourselves too.”

“I get that, but if your friend had to punch him for it, he obviously wasn't good.”

You look at your drink that's slowly disappearing. You should slow down. “He's not a bad guy.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

You roll your eyes, “You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”

“You seem to be just the same way.” he points out.

“You've known me for a few hours, Gabriel. I could be a total bitch or a completely different person than you've made up in your head.”

“And that's why I would like to know you more.”

You stare at him. 

Having to be in similar situations a few times, this time feels slightly different. Even though he's determined, he's not annoyingly pushy. He's good looking and has something in him that makes you flattered that he's not backing down. Showing a clear interest in you is not something you would gag at or roll your eyes like you usually would have. 

“So if I wanted to invite you for dinner, lunch… whatever you want it to be, would you go?”

“Are you asking me on a date, stranger?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm asking to hang with you and get to know you.”

“Umm, isn't that the definition of a date?”

“Could be,” he shrugs, “But I'm from Italy and you live on the opposite side of the world.”

“Exactly.” you point out. 

“Oh come on, just say no if you don't want to.”

“Are you looking for a hook-up, Gabriel?” you question him, not wanting to beat around the bush. Somehow, you know he's honest but you have a hard time believing he's just interested in getting to know you. 

Why? 

Like he said. You live in different countries and both of you don't look like the type to have a long-distance relationship. 

He starts coughing, taken back by your sudden straight-forwardness before he laughs, finding some amusement in it. “If you want to.”

“Is that why you want to get to know me?” 

“No.”

You look at him skeptically, “I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”

“Then I'm disappointed by the man you've encountered.” 

“Hey, I have amazing men around me.”

Two of them probably broke more hearts than any of these people in this group, but they're amazing men regardless of it. It's the fact they never did it intentionally. And Jungkook is the definition of a perfect guy. Perfect in terms of loving and thoughtful person who would give everything to his loved ones. 

“Never said you don't. You love your friends very much, don't you?”

That goes without a question. He sees the look on your face and it causes him to smile. For some reason, he seems smitten by you. Of course he does, look at you. You're amazing.

“You could say they're my second family.”

Perhaps if they were actually here, things would've been a lot different. That goes without debate. 

Taking in the silence that follows, you can't help but glance in the direction where Jungkook and Gabriel's friend are walking down the beach. However, they no longer are and instead you find him taking pictures of her. She makes poses, showing off her toned and tanned body. And then she walks up to him, clinging to his side as he shows her the results. She seems to be impressed, as far as you know, it's hard to see it clearly from this distance. 

And it's for the better, honestly.

“Listen, it doesn't have to mean anything more. Just us hanging out over a good dinner… or a lunch.”

Gluing your eyes back to Gabriel, which seems to be the safer choice, your eyes run over his features as you take a breath – realizing your stiffened posture before you relax.

“I don't have any sick intentions.”

“You know… you constantly making sure I know that kinda makes it harder to believe you.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his drink. Your teasing brings some peacefulness into this conversation again. “Just let me know your decision. Take your time.”

You give him a smirk, knowing you're kind of running out of time. Both of you know it and that's why you both grin at each other. Before any of you can say something, the approaching chatter interrupts you. Jungkook and Nara join you, she says something which makes Jungkook smile and that's when he looks up. Your eyes meet and you straighten yourself, ignoring the way your heart squeezes.

“What's up,” Gabriel says next to you, looking at Nara who seems to joyfully sit down and take a few sips of her drink. 

“Got some nice shots. Jungkook here is pure talent. I'ma show you later.” she says, smiling at Jungkook at the compliments she's giving him. 

The corner of his lips turn slowly up before he glances back at you. Looking away, you poke the back of your front teeth with your tongue.

“What's your plans for tomorrow? We were thinking of visiting the water park here. It's brand new and apparently very fun. You wanna join us?” Nara asks, reaching for a bowl of fruit that Gabriel has ordered. “Anyone?” she points at the bowl. 

Everyone shakes their heads before her previous question still sits in the air. She glances between you and Jungkook, awaiting your answer.

Once again, you look at each other without saying anything. 

“They probably have different plans, Nara.” Gabriel notes, shrugging.

Not wanting to let them know about the lingering tension that somehow remains between you two, you take matters into your hands and give Gabriel a smile. “We don't yet, not definite but we'll think of something.”

They seem to be settled with that before the conversation moves to something else. Somehow it seems unfinished and by the time you and Jungkook are alone, walking back to your beach house, the feeling intensifies.

“So what about tomorrow?” 

Jungkook is the first one to speak up once you get inside, a few minutes spent in silence after both of you are finished with your shower. You cut strawberries for yourself you got at the market earlier this morning. 

“I don't know. We don't have any clear plans, do we?” you hum.

“We could look around the Island. See what's up there and decide then.”

“Sounds good.” 

Jungkook stands behind you, in a safe distance but you can feel his eyes burning your back. However, he doesn't make a sound before a silent sigh leaves his mouth.

“Then what?”

“What then?” you frown, focusing on your cutting as he walks up to you. He leans against the counter with his lower back, crossing his arms over his chest. Luckily, he has put a t-shirt on. One second staring at him topless and you would be done for.

He's staring at you. You know he is, yet your eyes stay glued to the cutboard while you're taking your time with cutting the strawberries more precisely than it's necessary. “The water park. You wanna go?”

You halt, pursing your lips slightly. “Do you?”

He sighs again, “I think it would be a nice plan if we feel like it after we're done with the sightseeing.”

You stay silent before he taunts;

“Don't you?”

Your jaw clenches, “I think you should go if you wanna go so badly.”

He laughs sarcastically, “What?”

Fuck. You and your mouth. Composing yourself, you shrug before you put down the knife. “Didn't they want to go during the day?”

“Nara told me they will probably go in the afternoon. The heat is supposed to be crazy tomorrow, it's better to go later in the day.”

Of course, she did. Anything so she could go with Jungkook. 

While that little comment sounds bitter in your mind, you do know Nara wants him to go. And you should not feel angry or annoyed at it. Maybe that's not why you're annoyed at it at all. It's simple knowing that Jungkook wants to go. 

So forcing yourself to smile, you get the courage to stare him in the eyes. “You go if you wanna. I've got plans in the afternoon.”

Silence. For a split second. 

“What?”

Another follows and you wet your lips as you shrug. “I'm going out with Gabriel.”

Well, he doesn't know it yet. He's waiting but you're guessing he will be more than glad to skip the water park. If he doesn't, that's going to be incredibly embarrassing for you and your ego.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, looking away as he scoffs silently. But the overbearing silence makes it ten times louder. “I see.”

“Jungkook–”

“Is this how it's gonna be?”

You gulp, “What do you mean?”

“We came here to spend time together but we spend it separately? Is that how desperately you want me gone?”

“Jungkook!”

He lifts his hand up, the point finger up as he motions for you to be quiet. “I'm going for a walk.”

“You don't have to–”

You don't get to finish it, he brushes past you and is gone before you can take another breath. 

One of the worst habits you possess is the need to spill out anything that bothers you to someone. That someone is in most cases Jungkook, purely because he gives the best advice and comfort to anyone who needs it. He never judges and he just… gets it. He's that person you come to and can tell him anything, somehow the words he says or his mere presence is helpful enough.

For clear reasons he's not available – nor would he be suitable since he's the main reason why you're bothered in the first place. You're the one who messed up. For a moment you wondered whether you should go after him, to talk it out like any healthy person would do. But once you got out of the door, he was nowhere and to be walking alone around the Island with no one by your side is not something you wish to risk. Even though it seems to be safe here, you know he wouldn't be happy if he came back and you weren't here.

Or maybe he wouldn't care. 

You would like to think he would. It's still Jungkook. No matter how many times you fight or there's tension, it's still him. But it feels wrong to count on this all the time, even though it's basic knowledge.

Sure, you've got other friends. 

You wouldn't want to include Maya here. Purely out of knowing what her response might be – you've got to be a little selfish here because you know that's not something you want to hear right now. Anyway, she's probably planning her wedding or spending time with Namjoon. It feels rather awkward to be reaching out just because you find yourself in trouble. By your own responsibility.

But right after Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung came. 

Jimin is someone who gives you the hard truth, sometimes even scolds you but with the greatest intention. That's not something you need right now either way.

And Taehyung?

He makes everything look easy with the way he sees the world and particular problems. There is barely any problem in his world. He says fuck it on most things with his optimistic persona. He simply just doesn't care. 

Therefore, he's the safer choice than Jimin.

Luckily, once you call him and he's alone, you briefly mention the issue here. You kept it safe for your own sake or selfishness. However, you didn't have to mention anything because he questioned Jungkook's absence right after he complained about Jimin and the fact he brings his girlfriend almost everywhere.

When even Taehyung is silent, you're glad you've chosen a phone call instead of a video one. 

“So, let me get this straight… you go to Hawaii together but you're about to spend it separately?”

“Well–just tomorrow afternoon. I didn't think it's such a big deal.”

“But you purposely encouraged him to–I don't even know how to call it–go and find fun somewhere else?”

You gulp, regretting now that Taehyung's words bite you in the ass. He's right though. “We met this group of girls and–I didn't want him to focus on me only. I want him to have fun.”

Okay, that's half of the truth but it works. You did more for yourself than for Jungkook, naively believing that it will be better for him. But that backfired and it seems he doesn't feel like it's better for him.

“And didn't it get through your pretty head that maybe, just maybe, he wants to have fun with you?”

“Tae–” you sigh.

“Not that kind,” You can tell he has rolled his eyes. “He just wanted you two to have fun in there. I'm pretty sure he didn't think with his dick when he wanted you to go.”

“I didn't say that.”

“I know, I'm just saying.” he hums, “Maybe he feels rejected?”

“What? You think so?”

“I think Jungkook has had a lot planned for the two of you and he imagined he would spend it with you. Not with both of you having fun with someone else, instead with each other.”

“I thought it's better this way.” you mumble. 

Silence follows and you're not sure whether Taehyung heard or not, but you hear his soft sigh on the other end. “You do your thing tomorrow and he will do his. Or just spend the afternoon the way you wanted, just with each other.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.”

“Tae, we were invited. I was asked for lunch–or dinner–whatever.”

“So? Fuck anyone else,” There it is. “Anyway, is the girl hot?”

“What.”

Taehyung laughs, “The girl that so seemingly goes after our Jungkookie.”

“I never said she's going after him.”

“You didn't have to, babe. It's clearer than Jimin's questionable choice of a girlfriend.”

“You're being rude, leave Jimin and his girlfriend alone.”

He snorts, laughing as you join. “I would ask you to send me pictures of the girls, but I kinda don't want to. I would regret not being there.”

“Can you not think with your dick when your friend here is in crisis?” you mutter.

“You got yourself there, hun.”

“You're not helping.” you grit through your teeth, hearing him laugh.

“Look, just talk to him. You guys communicate well. Well–it's bumpy these days but you got it.”

“How's your leg?” you ask instead, listening to Taehyung's complaints while your mind is elsewhere.

When Jungkook doesn't come within an hour, you're seriously starting to get worried. He has left in a hurry, therefore has forgotten his phone that mockingly sits on one of the small tables. Even though he's a man, you're worried for his safety no matter how safe this Island seems to be. 

Just as you're about to grab your things and go search for him, the door clicks open and there he is. 

Head low and almost looking like a kicked puppy, you debate whether to jump on him to hug him or slap him for making you so worried. If the roles were reversed, there's no doubt that he would search the entire Island for you. And that's not exaggerating at all. 

Yet, you stand there – waiting for him to look up and be stopped by the glare you're giving him across the room.

“Where the hell have you been?”

You're angry. More at yourself than anyone else, but him scaring the shit out of you comes handy at the moment. 

You know that defeated look. You both hate fighting. It's crazy you've never been through such hard times in terms of fighting than you have in the past year. Sure, looking at it optimistically, you've learned to communicate better. Sometimes. 

Not particularly now. And you know some of it is mostly your fault now. 

Being honest means much more than just that. 

However that once mentioned defeated look is long gone. As soon as that tone and words leave your mouth, he glares at you with those intense dark eyes. 

It doesn't matter that you sound like a mother scolding his son for coming home late. 

“I went for a walk.” he says calmly, but there's something on the tip of his tongue. And his face says it all. I told you that.

You scoff. Before anything else can be said, he simply walks past you and you watch at the spot he just stood at in complete disbelief. 

“That's it?”

“What else do you want me to say?” he offers, giving you I don't give a fuck attitude as he plops on the couch and stretches his legs on top of the table.

He grabs his phone and scrolls down through his notifications. He must know he forgot it here. There's no way he doesn't know now. But there's no sight of realization or anything. He simply seems like he doesn't care.

Not about that and certainly not about you stomping to the room. 

“Are you serious now?”

He looks up from his phone, moving only with his eyes and you're stunned for a second. He's waiting. 

“If I stormed out like that, you would give me hell for it!” you scold him.

“I told you I went for a walk. We both needed to cool off.”

You fumble over your words and try to make sense of them. 

His eyes say it all. It looks like you haven't.

“Yeah, without your phone and you were gone for an hour!” 

You watch him stare at you for a moment, sighing as he tosses his phone on the couch. “I'm sorry.”

The surprise on your face is evident. 

“I forgot it. Didn't realize I was gone for so long.”

Well, an hour isn't so long but yeah, it felt like it. Especially the way he left.

You relax, a soft puff of breath leaving your lips before you nibble onto them with your teeth. You come closer, your knee resting against the armrest. 

“I will cancel on Gabriel.”

He frowns, almost confused why would you do that. For a split second you feel embarrassed. 

“So we can spend more time together.” you elaborate further. 

“You don't have to do that out of pity or whatever.” he points out.

This is stupid. You're stupid.

“I'm not doing it out of–”

“Besides, I have a few plans throughout our stay here. Starting from tomorrow.”

“What,” you deadpan, hating the weird pressure and intuition that rises every second until he proves it right.

“I arranged it with Nara.”

It's dead silence for a moment. You're letting the information sink in until you breathe out in even bigger disbelief.

“What,” It's quiet, almost painful before you glance at his phone. “Your phone stayed here.”

“Met her during my walk.”

Oh, and she so accidentally appeared right where you were, huh?

He's not looking at you, staring at nothing in particular with a distant gaze. 

“So let me get this straight–” You hold yourself together so you don't burst in anger. “You make a scene for not spending this vacation together and now you just make plans throughout it without me?”

You realize it's mostly said from your point of view and you fucked up, but him accepting it is even more defeating than anything else about this.

“As far as I know, you made plans too. Isn't this a good way of meeting new people?”

He's throwing it back at you. Clenching your jaw, you painfully swallow as you nod. “I see,” you mock his words, “You're right.”

And you walk out of the room – not knowing whether you should strangle him or yourself first. Only time can tell.

It's safe to say that sometimes your intention escalates and creates a new wave of something that can hardly be described positively. A part of you blames yourself for opening your mouth, even though your own intention behind it was not wrong. It wasn't supposed to cause any of this.

Already embarrassing as it is, having to lay next to Jungkook throughout the entire night has been another level. You've been tossing around, wondering if he's doing the same whenever you fall asleep for a few minutes until you're awake again. Seems like he's not particularly doing bad, but once again, there's an argument between you that has been maybe talked about, but definitely not solved. 

You stick to your plans that have been planned out for most of the day. You've gone sightseeing, fed rescued animals and even visited local museums. Basically, done activities where other people mostly talked and you both listened – you were just there. Standing next to each other, walking beside each other but if it wasn't for these facts, some might think you were strangers.

And that thought that randomly crossed your mind hurt. 

But you're just as stubborn. 

This is for the better. Sure, you should probably make a mend, it would definitely make things easier and better. But you will try to focus on other people as well. Being with Jungkook alone on this vacation – well, it's not like you have many opportunities to focus on anything else.

But that could change. And it can change. 

It's for the best. You both got distracted. Preferably with each other. 

So when the time comes, you both end up at the beach nearby the beach house you're staying at. However, this time it's for you to get separated and each go your own way. Gabriel's friends are already there, wearing their swimsuits and covering it with thin layers of clothing. And then there's Gabriel as well.

You texted him, agreeing to the dinner but proposed to meet sooner. The truth is, you couldn't be alone at the house knowing where Jungkook is. It would eat you alive to be alone with your thoughts of blame and regret. 

You have no idea where you will be going, perhaps more sight-seeing but you hope Gabriel has something planned out at the last minute. Sight-seeing reminds you of Jungkook as well, since you've spent your entire morning until midday.

You have not spoken ever since you came back. You both showered and changed clothes, here you are. Perhaps you've spent more time on your make-up. Your skin is glowing, covering everything that is laying beneath much deeper.

Summer dress with slightly low cut cleavage felt like the right choice. It's perfect for day time, could be great for night time as well and most importantly, you're not trying to look overly hot. This dress is practical. 

And you have no idea what's up with men and summer dresses because you feel like you attract men's eyes as soon as they can make out your figure. Gabriel is speechless, though he's grinning and doesn't fail to give you a compliment. 

Before you know it, Jungkook and Gabriel's friends bid you two a goodbye. Well – mostly Gabriel's friends because Jungkook is awfully quiet and doesn't even spare you a glance as he chats with Nara. 

Jaw clenched, you turn around and smile widely at Gabriel. “So what's the plan?”

“Mm, don't kill me but I thought we could get a snack or something, wait–have you eaten?”

“I have,” 

During lunch time with Jungkook. No matter how intense it seems to be between you, he still made sure you've eaten something. It's hard to be mad at him. But one memory of what happened just seconds ago is enough to make your features harden, just like your heart does.

“Have you?”

“I have,” he answers, “Cool, we can go to that dinner I promised you.”

You give him a slight chuckle, both of you walking nowhere specific. 

“But maybe we could go to the water park as well?”

“What,” you stop, chuckling nervously. The whole point of going out was not to be in Jungkook's presence. “The others just left.” You point behind you, pretty sure they are no longer there. 

“I kinda hoped we would go there alone.”

You give him a look, causing him to grin as he shakes his head. “Nothing creepy, I swear. Is it bad that I want you all for myself?”

“You will give me creeps if you continue to speak to me like that.” 

He grabs his chest, pretending it hurts there. “Ouch. Is it always so hard to charm you?”

You look away, shrugging. “Not always.”

At least you didn't lie. 

Best way to distract yourself is to do something. Anything that can't help you from thinking, or even overthinking. You give Gabriel that. Even though he has no idea he indirectly helped you and made your day better, attractions are a good way to just enjoy the presence. You allow yourself and your mind to be present with him. 

You laugh and nicely enough, Gabriel is sweet and keeps his hands to each other. He doesn't give you creepy vibes – you're not sure if you wanted him to. He's polite, gentleman and funny. Everything anyone would like to see in a guy you're spending time with. 

You talk, filling almost every second and moment with words. And yet, still somewhere rooted inside you, you keep looking around, hoping you won't meet Jungkook. Possibly see something you don't want to. You want him to have fun. 

But deep inside you feel like you've pushed him to do this. It's stupid. You proposed something. You never forced him to do anything. But just because it hasn't been done directly, doesn't mean the outcome is not the same. 

And you do it again. So you go to the first attraction you see, the water ride. You take Gabriel's hand, pulling him towards it until you're seated and drenched in water. After you're done, you both laugh at each other's appearance.

“I wonder if they sell towels here.” Gabriel says, praising himself for wearing slippers instead of actual shoes. His shirt is drenched, showing some of his abs. But you're respectful, you're not looking. 

“It's hot, we'll be dry in thirty minutes.” you laugh, squeezing more water from the rim of your dress. It falls down your legs. 

“True–how about–”

“Gab? What are you guys doing here?” 

Coming from the side, you both glance at the way where one of the girls walks with the entire group of Gabriel's friends behind her. Great.

All you hear is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He must be around here but you don't dare to let your eyes travel further.

“We wanted to try some of the attractions too.” Gabriel answers as if it's not a big deal. 

Although he's met with some confused looks from his friends, they're not overly judgy and you get them. None of you mentioned going here before. 

“You could've gone with us. Oh god, did you guys just go on this ride? We went there first, you should've seen us! Actually–Nara and Jungkook just went there like ten minutes ago and–” She starts looking behind her, pointing in that direction but she doesn't have to. 

Your eyes naturally find him there. Walking, unbuttoned shirt that is drenched similarly to your dress. The difference is that you can see his skin, a few droplets here and there as the sun shines on his tanned skin.

“We did–I wanted Y/N for myself, is that so bad?”

And that's when Jungkook looks up, undoubtedly catching Gabriel's words and your stare as well. Seconds pass by and someone keeps talking, but you don't pay attention. Jungkook's eyes travel down your figure before a slight frown settles on his face. 

Looking down, and you hate that you do, you follow his line of vision. The outline of your breasts is visible, nowhere near explicit to the point where anything is visibly clear, but even the slightest perks of your hardened nipples can be noticeable if one truly looks there. This dress doesn't require a bra, the material around that area is thick enough. 

When you were picking this dress, you weren't counting on getting it wet by any means. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook stares directly at you this time. Something about his gaze is so intense that you're not sure whether you're naturally nervous or aroused. Fuck. 

“We were just about to get frozen yogurt, you guys wanna join? We'll leave you alone, I promise.” Matt, one of their friends jokes, causing all of them to chuckle just to tease Gabriel. 

Gabriel is not a shy person. He rolls his eyes playfully at them, ignoring them right after before he looks down at you. He's taller than you, not as tall as the man who stands across you and you feel his eyes on you. It burns. 

“What do you say? Frozen yogurt?”

Frozen yogurt is the least of your worries right now. The right thing would be to refuse and come up with some kind of excuse, maybe trying the good old I wanna try more attractions. Just so you could finally escape the burning gaze that is ten times hotter than the sun above your heads. 

But the annoyance that slowly simmers inside you, followed by Jungkook's unpleasant face, changes your mind. Lips stretching into a wide smile, making sure Jungkook sees it and hears you loud and clear. 

“Sure, frozen yogurt sounds great.” Delightful, you want to say. 

The others cheer, clearly happy to have Gabriel join them. You see Matt throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, teasing him, undeniably about you as Gabriel shakes his head and with laughter pushes him away. 

“You havin' fun?”

Jungkook walks next to you, looking ahead and not giving you one last glance. His jaw is clenched and you smile, amused and pleased even. 

“Are you?”

“Wonderful,” he mutters.

“Good.”

“Good.”

Scoffing, you open your mouth but before any remark can make it out of your mouth, a woosh of coldness and pressure causes you to stop in your tracks. Most of it is blocked by Jungkook whom you manage to see turning his back, facing you while he shields you from the impact before your eyes are forced to shut.

The nearby attraction has splashed you, a few more people being a victim of it as they either laugh, curse or freeze in shock. Even your newfound friends who have managed to avoid the splash, gasp in surprise as they stare at the two of you. 

You're fully drenched, every inch of you covered in water as you can feel it drip down your dress. So much for being dressed nicely. 

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Gabriel asks, walking over to you.

Though you look up at Jungkook, who stares at you before his eyes drop down to your chest. You know his stare is not an act of lust, more of acknowledgment you should make. You don't have to look. You feel it. 

Your arms cover your breasts, turning to Gabriel to respond to him. However before you're able to utter a single word, you feel a soft touch of hand over your lower back. 

“We have to change clothes.”

“I saw a stand with some clothes where the kids' attractions are.” Nara tries to help, pointing in the left.

Jungkook ushers you to move before you can get drenched any more than you already are. Stupidly, you let him and you hate how you enjoy his hand on you. Maybe it has something to do with Nara watching. 

There are no words said as soon as you distance yourselves from the rest of the group, leaving them up to their activities while there's a suffocating air surrounding you. The burning weather has nothing to do with it this time.

You watch Jungkook pick random shirts and shorts once you get to the stand. The older man who sells it tells you that this happens pretty much often, that's why there are a lot of towels and clothes for sale. Of course, it always has a Hawaiian theme or a water park one. You let Jungkook interact with the seller while you linger behind him, offering him a soft smile in return because that's all you can do. 

“There is a changing room with a restroom around the corner. It's more to the side, so it's not much crowded, in case the lady needs more privacy.” he advises nicely.

Smiling one last time, Jungkook briefly nods as he follows the man's directions and leads you to the mentioned changing room.

He forgot to mention it's a single room. You can still hear screams and laugh from the side, but it's more isolated right now. You get inside, scanning the room. It's spacious. There are hangers on the wall, a basic bin and a sink. A huge mirror is spread across the one wall, the lighting is shitty though. The light bulb weirdly glitches but there is no weird smell in here. You hate public bathrooms, especially at water parks. 

Surprisingly, there's not much water on the floor. The man was right. There are not many people who use this changing room. You've seen a couple of them when you were walking with Gabriel, but you haven't thought much about it. It sort of makes sense now.

The door clicks behind you, causing you to look across your shoulder. “Umm, where are you going?”

Jungkook looks up, brows frowning as he grows slightly offended by the question. “To change?”

His own question holds an attitude and you just stare in bewilderment for a moment. But when he doesn't move an inch, stubbornly standing his ground, you frown as well. 

“Can't you wait?”

“Can't you wait?”

You scoff, almost laughing how childish this situation is. When Jungkook is mad, he can get slightly childish or let you feel all the nice things he does for people, until he stops it just to get petty. Not that you can't complain. You do the same things. 

However, you use your mouth much more than he does. He's more subtle with it. 

“I was here first.”

It's childish, you know it, yet you still point out when you're not sure how to react in the first place. Jungkook laughs under his breath.

“I wanna get out of these clothes as much as you do. Let's turn around and not look at each other.” he proposes, thinking that's the problem. 

Little does he know you could care less if he sees you naked or whatever. You hate the way the water drips down his body, the ends of his hair picking up all the water until it slowly drops and it does the same thing seconds later. You hate how his tan body peeks through the opened button-up. 

He's here. Yet it seems like he's never been further since you came to Hawaii.

All of this is stupid. You've been through much worse back home and you were able to make up.

But there's a lot of stubbornness and until you get there, you'll have to get through this somehow. 

“You think that's the problem?” you question, seeing him giving you a confused look as he starts taking off his button-up. 

He turns around to the sink, squeezing any water access he can from it. You don't move. You just shamelessly stare as he completely unbothered continues to do what he came here to do.

How dare he? Your self-consciousness mocks you.

“And what's the problem here exactly?”

He doesn't even spare you a glance, continuing to squeeze his completely scrunched up shirt.

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“I asked, didn't I?”

You scoff, ready to pounce on him. Not the good kind. 

“There's a thing that's called space.”

The double meaning sits in the air, yet he doesn't look perplexed by it. For all you know, he doesn't even notice it as he bluntly continues his task. It pisses you off. 

“There's enough space between us.” he simply says.

Your chest squeezes, causing you to purse your lips for a second as you breathe out. “You can't be serious right now.”

“I'm not even looking at you,” he scoffs, “I'll just change my clothes and I'm out of here. If you wanna just stand there and wait, you're free to do that.”

The audacity of this man is beyond the words. Is this how payback feels like?

“Oh, got it. You're eager to get out of here.” So you can get back to Nara, you want to add but decide not to. You would sound like a jealous bitch.

Somehow, Jungkook seems to get the hidden meaning behind it, almost as if he could hear your thoughts from out here. He chuckles, it's just the amused look he gives you that barely lasts a second, but it leaves you breathless and all exposed. 

The dress clings to your skin, you want nothing more than to take it off. You don't dare to move though. 

“May I remind you it's you who wanted me so eagerly to be out there?”

It's like you speak in riddles, yet you both know the exact meaning of them. You both don't dare to say it out loud. 

Getting tired of it, but mostly letting out the anger that you mainly hold for yourself, but for the man in front of you as well, you take an angry inhale of breath. 

“What exactly is it that you want, Y/N?” His voice rings loudly in your head, even though there's nothing loud about his tone.

Shakingly breathing out, you quietly point out; “You can't be fucking your best friend, Jungkook.”

The emphasis on your relationship is clear, though all Jungkook does is chuckle under his breath, scoffing. He throws his shirt into the sink, walking up to you. Your breath catches, though you can't almost anticipate once he's close to you. He stops, just centimeters from touching you. You can smell his faded cologne sticking to his skin and you almost crumble. 

“What if I wanted to?”

“Jungkook–”

“You always make a decision without talking to me. It is yours, I respect it,” He stops for a brief moment. He stares your face up and down. “What exactly are you so scared of?”

And the fear comes rushing to you, mainly located in your chest as your hands flinch to squeeze it. You remain standing there, not being able to look him in the eyes. His eyes are on you, you feel every inch of them, the proximity they shine. 

“This is ridiculous.” You try to move past him but he stops you. 

“It is,” he agrees, “Is this about sex?”

“It's not just about that!” you argue, voice hushed and almost scandalized that you're having this conversation in public. You only hope there's no one standing outside, able to hear you. 

You heard Jungkook locking the door, but still – there might be people waiting. 

“I know you,” he says silently but clearly. “I know there's something going on inside that pretty head of yours that you're not telling me.”

“Stop.”

“Are you in love with me?”

You gasp, “What? No!” you push him, palms against his chest but he holds you by your wrist, amused by your sudden outburst.

“So why are you so adamant on pushing me away? All of a sudden, may I add?”

He's asking all the right questions and you despise it at the moment. 

“You can't be fucking me forever, Jungkook. It must've ended at some point.”

“Oh–and you just decided on it without talking to me?” he scoffs, “You just randomly pushed me onto some random chick.”

“If I remember, you're willingly spending your free time with this random chick.”

He grins, though there's nothing genuine about it. It's fueled with cockiness. 

You might realize there's more to Jungkook's reaction. You suddenly start to understand why he's maybe hurt by your sudden twist of emotions. While you never came out of the wrong place, at least your intentions never did, you might understand what his problem is.

He expected you to communicate with him about it. He might be right about that, but you also had your own reasons and yes, maybe you fucked up and it didn't go as planned, but you won't take the blame for all of it. 

It's hard to focus on it though, especially when there's unspoken annoyance and anger dancing around you two. 

“It was your suggestion.” he states matter-of-factly.

One, you regret.

He lets go of your wrists, but not before rubbing it softly with his thumbs. It's a minor detail, one you almost don't notice but it would be a total shame if you would. 

“With a good intention.” 

“And what's the intention?” he asks right away, tone slightly more defensive. “Huh?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out of it.

Exactly – Jungkook's face says it all.

“To push me away? Because you're too scared to communicate?”

Jungkook's annoyance comes mostly out of this. You've used to communicate and talk about everything. And that brings you to the point. Things have changed. There are minor details, perhaps even more minor than Jungkook's faint touch of affection he gave to your wrists just now. But in these kinds of situations you can perfectly see them. 

Does he not see it?

“Fine,” you spit out, “You want me to communicate? I will.”

“About time!” he exclaims.

“I want you to meet new people. Be open to meeting new people.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he grimaces. 

“You can't be open to meeting someone when you're fucking me the entire time!” you exclaim back, chest heaving as he looks taken back.

That's all gone as his brows furrow. “That's not your decision to make. When I'm ready to meet someone, I will.”

“That's not what I meant–”

“Really? Because that's all I could gather. If I wanted to be single for years, I easily could and that has nothing to do with you.”

Ouch.

“I know–”

“Do you?” he asks. “Because to me it seems like you don't get it. If you didn't wanna have sex with me so badly, you could've just easily called it off. For the hundredth time anyway.” he mocks the last part.

That's where you gasp and come up to him, invading his space. He doesn't seem to mind.

“But you wanted it, didn't you?”

He taunts you, even though you're in his face, looking angry as ever – he remains calm and has all the control.

“A part of you still wants it. That's why you can't see me with Nara–”

“That's not about her.”

“Is it not?”

“No. I told you to meet people. That's all I wanted, don't you remember?”

He scans you for a moment. “So we're at this point where we can fuck whoever we want?” 

Fuck. You did not expect him to ask this. Nor did you expect to get to this point. You led him to it. You are the reason why he's asking this. You don't blame yourself for this, it's a simple fact. It will happen sooner or later. 

So why the fuck there's an answer caught in your throat?

“Do you want that?” he continues. “I promised you we would go here as friends. No sex. Anything.”

Your throat feels dry, painfully dry that it even hurts to swallow. There's nowhere to escape. There's an imaginary spotlight set on you, Jungkook's determined gaze making up for it. 

“We agreed to come here as friends.”

“That's not what I'm asking.” His response comes quickly.

He stares at you, searching your face for something unknown and you shift under his gaze, causing your own eyes to trail somewhere else. You can't hold eye contact. He waits. But when he doesn't get anything in return, he simply scoffs or chuckles under his breath – you can't tell – and takes a few steps away from you.

His shorts go next, he takes them off and tries to squeeze any excess water. 

“I just wanted you to–I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet someone new. It wasn't supposed to come out as pushy or anything.” you murmur gently under your breath. 

He stops for a brief moment, not moving. “How about talking to me next time, yeah?”

You nod, though you're not sure if he sees it. He's not even looking at you. Brows pinched in together, you watch him continue with his task. 

“Noted.” You drop your head low.

“If you want to fuck someone else so badly, just tell me.”

“That's not–” Your reaction comes fast. Eyes wide and mouth open, you shake your head. “You think–”

“Don't you?” he almost accuses you. 

“You think I–” You make air quotes with your fingers, “pushed Nara on you because I wanna fuck someone else?”

“I no longer know what I think.”

“If I wanted to do that, I would.” You assure him, comically using the same words he has used not that long ago. It's the truth. 

“Good to know.”

“Good,” you exclaim. “I guess we can both agree that we're capable of doing what we want.”

“Are we?” 

Your mouth slightly opens. “Huh?”

“Are we capable of doing what we want?”

The shorts join his scrunched up shirt in the sink, knowing Jungkook will wash the hell out of it once he gets back. He loves to do his laundry. But that's besides the point. 

What matters is how Jungkook inches closer to you, his eyes eating you up and noticing you haven't shredded a single piece of clothing. You catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your pupils wide, an expectation screaming out of them while your skin remains wet. Trails of water trailing down between your breasts. 

He follows it before his eyes slowly go up until they meet yours.

“Perhaps it's a curse or talent, but one look at you and I can already tell where your mind's at.”

He doesn't make you feel pathetic. He simply comments but finds some sort of enjoyment in it. The male's ego is never truly gone and you wish you could crash it, verbally using your mouth as you're good at it. It doesn't matter that his implication is true – it doesn't matter you both know it. You would fight and argue, just to compete his ego with your own. 

It seems like you're not able to this time. 

“Yeah? And where's your mind at?” you try to sound unbothered, but the way your chest slowly starts to heave up completely betrays you.

“At the same exact place where yours is. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to say it out loud.”

He backs you to the counter, nowhere near touching you – yet he does it with a single stare and has you exactly where he wants you. The tip of your toes almost touch, his figure hovering over yours.

Gulping, you try to play it cool. “Go on then. Tell me.”

He chuckles, it's soft but holds amused darkness that's wrapped around his cords. “If you insist.”

You don't. But you play into this fake illusion of not knowing what he's talking about. Just a pure excuse to try and prove him otherwise. To be honest, you might be curious about what he has to say. Jungkook has a good judgment for a character – when it comes to you. That obviously does not apply to his exes.

“I'm supposed to be somewhere else, physically and mentally, but here I am thinking of different ways of having you.”

You stop yourself just in time not to gasp out loud, showing him a vocal reaction other than your heart picking up its pace just at the single thought of it. Let alone having to hear him confess that. 

Clearing your throat, you try to straighten your posture but end up brushing against his chest. You do your best at ignoring it, staring him straight in the eyes. “And that's what I want?”

Don't lie to yourself, the little devil of your consciousness ironically laughs. Of course you know all of this, you just have this urge to prove him otherwise and crush that confidence he has within himself. 

“Please, you're already salivating just from the thought of it.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you argue: “No, I am not.”

“Tell me,” he cocks his head to the side. “Would you rather bend over the counter or sit on it?”

He sounds nothing but curious, not even feeding to your delusions of him being out of touch with reality. Only he is not. 

“You're an idiot.” you breathe out, trying everything to sound scandalized or offended. You would be able to fool if it was anyone else. But not him.

“For speaking the truth?”

“You're saying it as if I would want that. Listen to what I'm saying.”

He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “Words are irrelevant when your eyes practically beg me to touch you.”

You know he chose a lighter version of what he would initially say. He wants to be way more explicit, but you're both dancing on the edge.

“You think you know everything when it comes to me.” It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth. He doesn't appear to be offended because you both know how much he truly knows you. 

To bring this conversation to a different topic, he chooses to ignore it and simply smiles. 

“So if I were to do this–” He lightly touches the side of your neck, wrapping his hand carefully around it. You inhale shakily, not being able to control it. “Would you tell me to stop?”

He gently massages your pulse that moves under his thumb, watching goosebumps appear on your soft skin. His hand is gone before you can blink, but is soon replaced by his fingertips tracing down your neck, past your collarbone until they stop at top of your breasts. 

“Hm?”

You're not able to react. Your chest heaves, a glare fixated on him but no sound comes out of your mouth. He has you. Wrapped around his fingers, proving his point. Because of his ego and confidence, you know he's proving it to you rather than to anyone else. He can be that annoying. 

Close to leaning toward his touch, the tip of his fingers play with the hem of your dress, occasionally and very faintly touch your skin. His other hand goes down, playing at the fabric of where your dress ends. It goes up, fabric gathering over his wrist. You shudder, mentally begging him to do more.

As if he could read your mind, his eyes look up without having to move his head, dark sinister spark in them. When he doesn't see you protesting, merely making sure of your current state, he does not waste a second and pulls the top hem of your dress. Revealing your breasts, he sucks in breath at the perked nipples. His hold on the dress tightens and within seconds, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple.

“Fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back as you arch into him.

He's like a starving man, perhaps he is from the stupid condition you've made up, but so are you. The other hand grasps the back of your thigh, molding his fingers into your skin as if he wants to leave as many imprints as he can. 

Teeth grazing your teeth, he wraps his hand around your neck once more and makes you look at him. You just stare at each other, not an ounce of shame written on your faces. Your noses touch, your mouth already opened as small gasps similar to moans escape. You beg him to kiss you. 

He doesn't. 

Instead, he drops down to his knees and before you know it, his hands disappear underneath your dress and shamelessly pull down your only piece of underwear. Once that's done, he hoists up your leg over his shoulder and dives in right away. You can barely grab the edge of the sink counter and balance yourself on it, before his mouth is on you. 

“Jungkook–”

You swear you hear him chuckle, but you're too distracted by the shots of pleasure he's attacking you with. He shows no mercy. Fingers wrapped in his hair, you tug onto his roots as he moans against you. 

Nobody does it like you. 

While that thought normally scares you, now you're fucking grateful he's the one that's between your legs. 

You come embarrassingly fast, trying to keep yourself silent from moaning and embarrassingly so, you have no idea whether you've succeeded or not. Jungkook fucks you through it with his mouth, stopping just at the right time as he pulls away.

Lips swollen and red, eyes drinking you up, he effortlessly stands up. “Was this anything relatively close to where your mind was?”

It was far dirtier but there's nothing to be disappointed about. When it comes to orgasm and Jungkook, he never disappoints. 

“I can't complain.” you breathe out, watching how he pulls up your dress and covers your breasts to give you at least some kind of modesty. 

It's a single detail, one he never had to do and you never fully noticed – but no matter what, Jungkook always looks out for you. A blunt apology wants to come out, for numerous reasons of the misunderstanding of your own fears and good intentions, but Jungkook takes a few steps back. 

“Change your clothes, I will wait outside.” he says, quickly changing his own before leaving you up to it. 

You turn around, not being able to let go of the counter as you grip it harder and stare at your face. He didn't even go all the way and you look like you've had the time of your life. 

Once again, you and Jungkook have succumbed to your desires and broken the only condition you've had for this vacation. It should leave you disappointed and perhaps you are little, but you're definitely satisfied for the time being. 

At least until you have to walk out of the door and face the storm in the form of your best friend. 

Your knees and hands have stopped buckling by the time you've changed into dry clothes. Nothing screams more than a tourist wearing an oversized shirt with a huge label saying “I love Hawaii”, an image of a red heart replacing the word love. It's something you would've worn to bed to sleep in – or at the beach to cover up the least – not parading yourself in it in public. 

The sense of fashion is the last of your worries or things on your mind though. 

Jungkook has waited outside of the door, guarding it safely. After his sudden leave, you did not lock the door which could be a terrible mistake if Jungkook wasn't there to make sure no one walks in. Somehow, you knew he was right behind that door.

The walk toward the rest of the group is spent in silence. As if his mouth wasn't all over your private areas. The memory of it makes an excitement bubble in your stomach, even though it should probably be at least a hint of some kind of regret. 

You do not regret the act itself. Mostly, it's just you being so weak to prevent it. 

Maya would surely get the baggage off your shoulders, supporting this wild decision. But she just doesn't get it. 

Simple walk to find your newfound friends – or whatever you would call them – makes you miss your real friends. You wonder how things would go if they were here. 

Maybe it's just your stupid naivety of believing that it would be different. No matter what, it seems you and Jungkook always find your way to each other – intimately speaking. 

One thing's for sure. 

Jungkook has confronted you. There's truth to both sides. 

Of course the man can have anyone he points his finger at. It was your foolishness to think this vacation was the perfect chance at it. Selfishly, you might've done it more for yourself than for him. 

And what if you would meet someone as well? 

It would certainly make things easier. The decision would be way easier too.

Gabriel is handsome. Hot and charming. Practically the perfect package for a vacation hook-up. And as much as would be leant toward maybe kissing him at least, you can't do that when Jungkook is right there. 

Once you find them, the mood is sour between you and you're not even trying to hide it. Maybe it's the lack of smile and a big portion of silence that makes them notice it. No one comments on it. In fact, you don't think it's worth being commented on. 

Their positivity and good mood continues to be unaffected.

“We dodged the whole frozen yogurt, heard there are these best waffles somewhere around here with fresh fruit. Wanna go there instead?” Gabriel is the first one to ask, eyes finding your figure as soon as you approach them.

In this heat, sweet food or a snack is the least of your cravings. 

“I'm actually not hungry at all,” you respond, feeling guilty for not being up for this idea. 

Gabriel looks confused for a moment, certainly remembering you were all up for frozen yogurt just a few minutes ago. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't question you but you can see the questions running inside his head. 

Maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of his friends. 

“The heat is killing me.” you add, trying to save it.

He nods, glancing toward the man next to you who hasn't made a move to… move. “Jungkook?”

“I already had a dessert.” he comments, shamelessly staring at the side of your face.

Eyes almost bulging out, you keep your calm and try to not react. Even though Jungkook has not worded it out weirdly to give anyone a big suspicion, it's you and your guilt that makes it think it's so obvious. You wish you could glare at him, but you know there are eyes on you.

“We stopped by the fruit stand, so we had that on our way here.” you lie, straight through your teeth and even though you could be defined as the worst liar ever, this lie comes out sweet and believable. But it's Gabriel's eyes that continue to stare and watch you like you're the biggest open book. 

Fuck.

“Yeah, the fruit here tastes nice.” Jungkook continues and you do everything in your power not to smack him across that bratty mouth. Mouth you wish you could have kissed. 

You give him a look, but he just cocks his brow at you. “Yeah, Jungkook came up with this idea–”

“Did I?”

You glare at him, “Anyway–sorry, I know we wanted to go there together.”

“It's fine,” Gabriel laughs, “We're still gonna get it. You guys are still going with us, right?”

“Yeah, sure!” you force yourself to smile, joining Gabriel as you feel Jungkook's burning gaze on your back. 

That's until you hear Nara's voice behind you, making a casual conversation between them and diverting his attention elsewhere. 

Once the sun is slowly setting down, you part ways and go back to the beach house in silence. No difference happens once you're inside, just the two of you. 

The past two hours spent with people you've met here felt like a torture. That's what you at least thought until you and Jungkook continued to pass by each other as you two are getting ready. Comically enough, not to go somewhere together but with different people.

He kept his word and accepted Nara's offer to go out tonight. Whether he's doing this to piss you off or because he wants to is unknown to you. Perhaps there was a slight hope that you two would just come to an agreement to cancel and go somewhere together. Even staying inside would be enough.

Once Nara asked Jungkook if their plan is still on and Jungkook so shamelessly confirmed, all the hope left as soon as it came. Gabriel has done the same with you and there was nothing other for you to do, then to agree.

It's a pure comedy. If there was a third person just watching the two of you, they would have the time of their life. Somehow you can imagine Taehyung here, sitting on the couch as he judges you two but stays entertained throughout the entire time.

After taking a shower, you end up doing your make-up in the living room with the smallest mirror you've brought on this vacation. Your previous plan of doing it in the bathroom where there is a massive mirror has failed as soon as Jungkook uttered his need to use the shower as well. 

You're not sure if he's done it on purpose, but he sure as hell took his time there. You're putting on the lipstick when he finally decides to get out of there.

Both of you stop.

He's wearing an all white – button-up with shorts that reach just above his knees. Shorts you didn't even know he owns. He looks elegant, yet casual just for the hot weather even though there's a slight darkness outside. His slicked back hair definitely helps.

Jungkook's eyes fall down on your figure. You're wearing a simple short black dress but the gold necklace and red lipstick adds a pinch of sexiness to it. None of you are overdressed or could win the outfit of the year, yet you can't keep eyes off each other. 

You're the first one to break it, standing up and tidying up your make-up stuff that's all over the table, but not before raising a provocative brow at him. He scoffs as he walks past you without any word, his cologne the only thing left and lingering. Out of his sight, you close your eyes and breathe out the gathered breath in your lungs. 

The two of you leave at the same time, in different directions to different people.

The restaurant where Gabriel has taken you is nice and they have a variety of food on their menu. You have a nice view of the beach and sea which adds points in your imaginary review of this place. You've got to be honest – Gabriel definitely went out his way to invite you here.

He doesn't mention his friend – Nara – not even once and while you're not sure if you want to hear the reminder of her hanging out with Jungkook at the moment, you hope you won't bump into each other. You feel bad. 

You listen and talk to him, but your mind is all over the place. You should've known you won't be able to enjoy tonight if there's someone you've fought with. And with Jungkook out of all people. 

At least the food is nice.

After two hours of good dinner and dessert, and a few glasses of wine, Gabriel decides to walk you back to the beach house. You're not stupid to decline it, especially at night. Before that you decide to take a quick walk down the beach.

“So, what are you saying? Was the dinner that bad?”

You give him a look, chuckling. “Did it meet your expectations of getting to know me?”

Now he's the one who laughs. “Yeah,” he nods. “Kinda makes it hard for me to go back to Italy.”

You raise your brow, smirking. “So you're saying you're not going where I go?”

He laughs at your joke, “I'm thinking of it.”

“Yeah, sure.” you laugh, “One dinner is all it took?”

“You're special.”

And you're more likely looking for a hook-up, you think. You both know there's no future to this. 

“I am special?” you snicker, “Is that what you say to all the girls?”

“Is it working?” he teases.

“Nah, it takes more effort when it comes to me.” 

He stops in his tracks which causes you to do the same. He stares, eyes dropping down your lips and red lights flare in your mind. Knowing what it most likely means, you quickly turn away. 

“Come on, I'm so full I could fall asleep.”

Cringing at yourself, Gabriel follows and doesn't seem to be shaken up from it. He continues to talk and the mood is pretty much loosen up, which has been from the beginning. You had a good time and it went better than you expected it to. 

Gabriel doesn't try to kiss you and you bid goodbye with a casual hug, both of you understanding that nothing will come out of this. 

The lights are on as you open the unlocked door, meaning that Jungkook is already back. It seems like he just came as he came out of the bathroom, surprised to see you there. 

“How was your date?” he asks, looking away from you in a second.

“It wasn't a date.” you clarify which makes him snicker. “What? It wasn't.”

“An Italian guy wants to make plans with you, alone. You might be right, it's not about a date at all.”

You give him an offensive look, “Are you insinuating that all I'm good for is a hook-up?”

“No, don't twist up my words.” He immediately stops your mind to go somewhere his mind doesn't even get close to. “I'm insinuating that a guy from freaking Italy suddenly shows his interest in you, when you live across the world.”

You frown, watching him reach for a glass of whiskey you haven't noticed before. He's not drunk but what he is, is confidently smirking in your face as if he knows everything. Well, he's not too far off. Gabriel wants to have fun and while he seems to be a decent human being, he's not about to move to a country to be with you. You wouldn't expect him to anyway.

“But you're right,” He purses his lips, the rim of the glass almost touching it as he lets out the tiniest chuckle that's supposed to be hidden. “He's probably wanting to marry you.”

He's provocating you. The plans have not turned out the way you both wanted to – but it is what it is. Your curiosity almost kills you and your impatient-self wants to ask him about this date, or whatever it was. This is a game, you realize. 

And you won't let him have that satisfaction of you asking. 

“He wanted to kiss me tonight.” you inform him.

You watch him take a sip, pursing his lips right after as you slowly watch him swallow down the hard liquor. “I'm sure he wanted to do much more.”

Is that a jealousy you hear? 

No one has quite peaked your interest regarding this matter. Judging by Jungkook's confidence, he knows that. 

“Next time I will let him kiss me. Maybe then he will want to marry me eventually.” You give him a false smile, stopping right beside him as he wants you with a clenched jaw. 

Not giving him a chance to respond, you walk away with confident steps into the bedroom. The door closes and your back meets the wood. You can feel your heart in your neck, all the facade of confidence and peace leaves and you softly bang your head against it. 

What you said was completely stupid. You don't want to kiss Gabriel. In fact, the thought of it is nowhere near as exciting as one would expect it to be. Both of you know that the second part was only said to piss him off and prove a point. 

The questions are…

Will you let him kiss you next time?

Did or will Jungkook kiss someone else in here?

The ongoing battle that you're in the middle of has not ended. 

Both sleeping at the very both ends, as far away from each other as possible, has been a good way to start the day. It's not like you expected to cuddle during the night. 

That's not what friends do, your mind wants to say. But you've crossed that line too many times. You're not the typical friends either, that ship has sailed a long time ago. 

You shouldn't have pushed him away. It's too late to take it back. For a moment you think of coming to Jungkook, apologize and somehow talk yourself out of this impossible battle you're in. You're willing to take all the blame for it. 

However, that's all gone as soon as you hear Jungkook calling with who you assume is Nara, his tone sweet and sounding exciting as they make plans for today. You stand there, making yourself a coffee as you try not to listen to their ridiculous conversation. How can you not? 

Jungkook sits right behind you, even if you didn't want to listen – it's impossible for you not to. He knows that. He knows you're listening. You're the one who has come in the middle of their conversation.

The call ends after a minute, your coffee ready but your mind isn't when you turn around and face the devil. You've seen him from the corner of your eyes when you entered the kitchen area, but nothing prepares you for the shirtless Jungkook. His hair isn't messy, he seems to be well put and from the looks of it, he came out of the shower not that long ago. 

He cocks his brow at you, questioning your stare making your features harden. “Having a date today?”

You painfully watch the way the corner of his mouth slowly lifts up as he chuckles. “Careful, you start to sound jealous.”

“Me? Don't be ridiculous,” you scoff, “Where is she from again? Doesn't she live across the world?”

Jungkook features lighten up with pure amusement as you use his words against him. “At least I can admit this is a date.”

“I simply hung out with a guy. We never stated it's a date.” you point out, knowing it sounds silly but Gabriel just wanted to get to know you. You never officially called it a date.

Jungkook stands up, grabbing his empty plate as he gives you another one of his snickers. “Be in denial all you want.”

“You know what?” He raises his brow in question, too close to you as he reaches to put the plate into the sink. “I'm not gonna spend this morning arguing with you. If I wanted it to be a date, I would make it perfectly clear to him.”

He smiles, but there's nothing sweet about it. “A date or a chance for a hook-up. I don't see the difference.”

He does. Jungkook has always been the dating type rather than the hook-up one. Your two friends have taken that label since forever. But obviously, he's not talking about himself. 

Suddenly, the air becomes thick and you stare right into his dark eyes. He's hovering over you, his scent luring you in as his eyes dance across your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe again as you quickly recover. “Yeah? And what would that be?”

Jungkook grabs his phone and looks at you across his shoulder. “You should meet new people.”

Your mouth opens and you stare for a moment before you scoff, “If I wanted to date, I would already have like hundreds of boyfriends. The same goes if I was looking for a hook-up.”

“Good for you.” he calls out bitterly, leaving you in the kitchen with a fuming gaze and burning heart. 

But you realize one thing. How selfish you've just sounded. Jungkook has told you the same thing. 

If any of you wanted that, you could've easily done so. Yet your reason for saying it to him and what ultimately started this argument, is completely different.

Jungkook is a dick. 

He has left for his date or whatever the fuck it is, and has left you alone in the house even without asking whether you have plans or not. You know your relationship right now is not at its best stage, but little consideration could not hurt. Especially since he's always been caring and considerate no matter how much your relationship has taken a different turn. 

It's one of the reasons why you desperately wanted to move on. Throw your past away and come back to the friendship you've known since the beginning. It leaves you agreeing that your original intention has come from a good place.

Luckily, Gabriel seems to show interest in you, still, after the little rejection you've given him after his attempt to kiss you. He comes to you a little after you come to the beach to just lay there. He's been there with his friends since this morning – at their usual spot. Nara is nowhere in sight and much to your distaste, you know who's she with. 

So once Gabriel invites you to hang out with them, you agree and would rather spend your alone time in a company of many people, than to dwell all alone about your decisions in life. He keeps you entertained and busy, away from your haunting thoughts. Until…

“Nara is with your friend. You know where they went?” 

You sit at a bar, drinking lemonade in this burning weather and you're thankful for the sunglasses you're wearing, so he's not about to see the tiniest roll of your eyes. “No idea. He forgot to mention.”

In the morning which is the last time you've seen him. He just left you to be with another woman, in a foreign country. You know you can call him anytime. Even now – no matter what your relationship looks like, he would be here in a second if you called and needed him. But still – you're mad he just left without saying anything. Deep down you know that's not the only thing that irritates you. 

“Nara fancies him a lot.”

So? You want to say. What are you supposed to do with this information?

“Really?” You're trying to sound surprised. But even Gabriel– who had so little time to get to know you – catches onto the tone and laughs. “It's pretty obvious.” You try to save it by simply stating. 

“She did ask him to go out again today. From what I know, she was never the one who asked someone out.”

“Where does she live again?” you ask, taking a sip off a lemonade trying to quench the fire inside you. 

“Spain.”

“It's not like there's any future to it.”

Gabriel stays silent and just stares, while you continuously take innocent sips. “Actually, Nara has applied for some modeling jobs in Korea.”

He's definitely not talking about North Korea, unfortunately that's unrealistic.

“Oh,”

Well, fuck. This just gave a completely different turn of event.

Considering your luck, she probably applied to your modeling agency as well. Many foreigners do. You just hope no one will mention it. Not to be a bitch, but you can imagine someone asking you to help her to get in. That's beyond your competency. But you could always mention her to Junho.

Oh my god. Jungkook has worked there too. He probably has saved your boss' number. While you think Jungkook wouldn't cross that invisible line you've set, he's always trying to help and save the day.

“Listen, how about I take you out for dinner tonight?”

That's… shocking.

After the last time you ended things, you thought he gave up. But you should've known better. It seems guys like him barely give up.

“What's else for us to do?” he chuckles, not really waiting for an answer but it still comes.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you, reaching for his drink as his shoulders relax. “Our friends are meeting with each other almost every day.”

The taste of your non-alcoholic drinks becomes bitter on the tip of your tongue, just as much as your mood does. “As far as I know, you've got other friends here.”

“But none of them are you.”

Smooth. The little smirk you give him tells him everything. He's aware of his smooth delivery of compliments. You've got to give it to him – he knows his way around girls. 

It's not like you have anything else to do. Jungkook seems to be busy and does not care what you do here anymore. And Gabriel's company is nice. If it's true what he said about Nara coming to Korea, there's a bigger chance of them making future plans together. And as much as this thought leaves the most bitter taste on your tongue, you'll leave that move for Jungkook to make. 

After all, that's what you wanted for him and who are you to stand in his way. 

Purposely not verbally reacting to Gabriel's flirting, you shrug and lean in your seat. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

Legs resting on top of the coffee table, Gossip Girl plays in the background as you mindlessly pop grapes in your mouth. Maybe you're silently imagining it's Jungkook whom you're crushing between your teeth. 

After spending almost the full day with Gabriel and then the rest of his friends, you've come to the beach house finding it completely empty. It looks exactly where it's left off and you're embarrassed to admit that you've checked Jungkook's things to see if they've moved. And perhaps he was here. They haven't, which only meant one thing – Jungkook hasn't come here yet.

Sooner than later, the door opens and there he is. 

He does not seem surprised to see you there – almost as if he knew you wouldn't be anywhere else. You give him that much satisfaction of looking at him once he arrives, acknowledging his late arrival. You hate what you do but it has its own purpose. And that is the single glare you give him. 

You feel like a mother, silently scolding her child for coming home late. 

He goes for a shower right away and you battle with thoughts of him, erasing the traces of possible sex on his skin. He comes back after a few minutes, wearing just his boxers with wet hair. You want to scold him for walking around like that, but that would be slightly selfish for numerous reasons. Is he torturing you on purpose?

He joins you on the couch, not questioning your choice of TV show as he knows you've previously seen it. As he sits down, you can't hold it back and just come straight to the point. 

“Will you help her?”

Your gaze is focused on the TV screen, but you feel his own burning the side of your face. “Huh?”

“Nara.”

He just stares which causes you to look at him and roll your eyes at him. “She applied for modeling agencies in Korea.”

“Korea is huge,” he says after a moment. “And how do you even know that?”

“Gabriel told me.” You try to not sound too proud.

“When?” he asks confusingly. “She told me just today.”

He's questioning if you've known this information sooner but never told him. 

This time you inform him with a smug face. “He told me today as well.”

The revelation that you haven't spent your day here alone is out. He is unreadable. He just watches you, almost as if he wants to make sure you're not making this up. Too bad for him. You're not making anything up and this time you're not too shy to show how proud you are for it. 

“What? You thought I was here all alone while you went on a date?” 

It's a purposeful jab, one that leads to nothing but disaster but you don't care. You're mad and annoyed. And now he knows why. Yet he doesn't make any effort to make an excuse for himself. 

“You brought him here?” 

First of all – you're not sure what would be so bad about it, even if you brought him here. But then it clicks. Jungkook has his own assumptions and bringing a guy here, while you're all alone could mean different things. Your skin is moisturized and you smell like your shower gel, which means you've left the shower not that long ago.

Perhaps it could be considered as disrespectful if you indeed brought him into a house, Jungkook rented and is a space for you two. You could understand that.

If the roles were reversed and you found out he brought Nara here – well… the thought of it doesn't sit well with you. But what does, when it comes to her?

“No, he asked me out after you so kindly left me here to go on your stupid date.” you huff out, standing up and forgetting about your TV show. The controller is tossed on the couch as you leave without looking at him. 

Your steps lead to the bathroom where there's a slight trace of foggy mirror left after Jungkook's shower. Mentally groaning at the scent of him dominating in the room, you reach toward the sink faucet in a desperate need to freshen up your burning face.

You don't get to turn the water on as Jungkook is in your tracks, a burning gaze aimed at you. “You seemed to have solved it pretty quickly.”

Realizing he meant your accusation of leaving you to go on a date, you scoff. 

“I wasn't about to sit here and sulk, waiting like a dog for you. If that's what you were planning for me to do.”

“I wasn't planning that,” he states, even though he wants to be just as mad for some reason. “I wasn't planning on being out until now.”

“Well, you were!” you exclaim. 

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Is that all you've got to say?”

He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What am I supposed to say?”

“You know what? Nothing. Say nothing.” you fume, forgetting your dumb purpose in the bathroom anyway as you rush to get past him. But as soon as you get close, his hand around your wrist stops you. 

The touch is electrifying, sadly not in an awful way and you hate how your body reacts to him naturally. “Did you at least have fun?” you scoff.

“Would you be mad if I said I did?”

You almost cry, like a child but the anger inside you is bigger than anything else and you shake his hold on you. “And did you have fun?”

“Lots of it.” you spit the words at him.

You both stare into each other's eyes, the anger screaming out of them and yet the question you want to ask is unspoken.

“Good.”

“Goodnight Jungkook.” you murmur, walking away and quickening up the pace before you can do something you really want to, but would regret later. 

One would think that after yesterday's exchange of pitiful words, you two would have solved it or at least tried to voice the problem here. It seems there is not enough pity and when the two of you want to, you could be the biggest pity bitches.

“Milk?”

Side-eyed look toward Jungkook, having two bowls of cereal ready and awaiting your answer. “I can make myself breakfast.”

“Milk?” he asks through his teeth, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back as you sit down.

“Yes.”

Whether this is his way of saying sorry for yesterday or not  is unknown and you're not about to investigate it. You mutter a silent thank you once the bowl is set in front of you and you two dig into your breakfast without any other sort of conversation. 

The rest of the morning goes like this. One word communication which seems almost like a challenge. Phones are your best friend but both of you are stubborn to talk. You swim in the pool for the first time since you're here, enjoying the sun warming your skin as Jungkook goes for his morning jog and comes back an hour later.

You're playing quiet house, so it seems. 

As the day goes, it's more than clear that both of you have plans tonight. Separate plans. 

Jungkook's phone goes off and he goes inside to take the call, after joining you in the pool. Trying to keep your nerves to yourself, you've had to endure his presence (lack of clothed presence). You went to rest on a beach chair while he swam. PAIN.

It's close to dinner time and you both get ready. Unlike Jungkook, you spend more time in the bathroom to do your hair and make-up, which he so “kindly” reminds you every time he wants to take a shower or goes to grab something there. 

The air is thick and it has nothing to do with the scent of hairspray and your fragrance. 

None of you ask what's your plan for tonight. But both of you can tell. No details though.

“You done here?”

You stop in the middle of putting your lipstick on as you give him a look, “Does it look like it?”

Ignoring the attitude in your tone, Jungkook comes up to the mirror and by doing that, he moves you to the side. He almost causes the lipstick to meet your cheek and you can tell, you almost see a smirk curling his lips. 

“Don't look at me like that. You've been here for a long time.” he says without sparing you a glance.

While you watch from the side with an open mouth and disbelief written on your face, he easily grabs his hair gel and starts doing his own hair. You fume, snatching your make-up bag and stomping away to finish what you haven't had the chance to – thanks to Jungkook. 

By the time you're done, Jungkook has left without saying another word. You haven't even heard him leaving and you feel pathetic as you search him around the house, all while trying to look for something. Turns out there's no one here and he has left. First and again. 

Luckily, Gabriel texts you not that long after and proposes a short walk. He doesn't want to reveal the restaurant location but he had to make a reservation, which already sounds fancy as it is. You're hungry and considering you're not in your best state, still fuming, you decide not to complain. First of all, it's not polite at all.

Gabriel is trying and just because you're in a mood to be a bitch, doesn't mean he's the one who deserves it. At least there's some sort of self-reflection happening. 

And two, maybe it's a good idea to walk around a bit to come to different thoughts. Plus, you will eat more by the time you arrive at the restaurant. 

He has cleaned up nicely, catching female eyes as you walk around for a few minutes. The walk has been short, just enough to make a casual conversation until you arrive.

The restaurant is located on a pier, waiters all wearing fancy white shirts and slacks – a difference from all the shirts with Hawaiian motifs and skin showing. 

As you're led to your table, you notice there's not a single table free and tonight it's fully packed.

“What is this place?” you ask as soon as the waiter hands you menus and leaves after. 

“It's the most famous restaurant on this island.”

Your mouth opens and then it closes again. “Are you insane?”

He laughs, staring at you fondly as if you haven't been too bold with your words. “This is what I like about you.”

“What,”

“Your honesty,” he hums, “It's refreshing. You don't try to woo me.”

“Why would I woo you?” you ask, genuinely curious but again, it comes out a little bluntly which causes him to laugh again. 

“Ouch,” he jokes, holding his chest as you stare at him across the table. “You're in this world to punish men for their overly huge egos.”

You purse your lips, “I'm not in this world for men, first of all.”

“Technically, you are thanks to one.”

Your nose scrunches up which causes him to laugh again. “That's besides the point.”

“So is there anyone who's been trying to woo you instead?”

“Besides you, no. Not at the moment.”

He cracks another laughter, “Touché. I deserved that.”

Giggling, you shake your head at your conversation.

“So tell me–” His words drift away because in the midst of your laughter, you spot someone entering your line of vision.

The world could not be any more cruel at the moment. There they are. 

Jungkook and Nara enter the pier as they're seated by the waiter, just like you were minutes ago. Jungkook, the gentleman he is, pulls out the chair for her as she giggles with a bright smile. Clearly wooed herself by the sweet gesture. 

“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter so silently, that you're sure Gabriel can't make the words out but it's enough to silence him as he follows your gaze. 

He turns around and lets out a surprised, but light sound. 

“Oh, I guess me and your friend think alike.”

You try hard not to make a sour expression as you clear your throat. “Let's not interrupt them. What were you saying?”

“Is there someone waiting for you? Back in Seoul?”

“I told you, I'm single.” you chuckle.

“I know, but that doesn't mean there's not someone who's ready to fight for you.”

Your fingers stop clicking and you gulp. 

“So you're telling me there's no one in your life? Not even recently?”

It's like he can see there's something on your mind. You decide to come up with half of the truth. It's not like you'll see him again.

“There–It wasn't a relationship, more like a relationship of convenience–”

“So, a hook-up partner, right?”

Lips in a straight line, you hum in confirmation. “Yeah, whatever. We ended it, so it felt like a good decision to come here and just relax. Come to different thoughts.”

Cominically enough, you came here with a person you're currently talking about. The one who's sitting just a few tables from you two.

God, you sound so stupid. Of course, you're not telling Gabriel the whole truth. The purpose of coming here with Jungkook was to enjoy it, strengthen your friendship – the previous one you've had. You had an agreement. 

Somehow, you end up arguing thanks to you and it gets all twisted.

“Well, I know you were supposed to come here with your friends. So I understand why you would do that.”

“It's not just because of that. We were planning this for months. It was supposed to be a friends' vacation.”

He hums in understanding and doesn't get the opportunity to speak, as the waiter comes back and asks for your order. After you've ordered your meal, Gabriel leans back and studies you for a short moment. Just before you're about to ask about his lingering gaze and its purpose behind it, he speaks. 

“You're not really looking for a relationship, are you?”

Your brows shoot up at the unexpected question. For a while, you're not sure how to answer and your face says it all. In the end, you shrug and voice your confusion. “What's with the sudden question?”

“I apologize,” he smiles, “I had to voice my curiosity and I wonder if I was right.”

You lean back, fingers clicking against the table. “I'm not against it. If it comes, I welcome it.”

“Hm,” he hums. “So no hard break-up?”

“Why do you think so?”

“I don't know, there's just something about you that I can't seem to crack.”

“Sometimes some things aren't meant to be cracked.” you tell him, making him smile at the possible truth. 

“Sometimes,” he agrees. “I'm sorry if I seem to be nosy.”

“No, it's okay. Trust me, I win when it comes to curiosity.” you admit with a silent laugh. 

“I travel a lot, so I don't really have enough time to properly date. No woman wants a man who's ten months out of the country out of the year.”

“What do you do again?”

“Content creator.”

“Oh, so you're an influencer?” 

He laughs, “Not really. I do write for a traveling blog.”

“Maybe you'll find someone you can date and travel with.”

“Unfortunately, you don't seem that kind of person.”

You laugh, “I do enjoy Seoul. It's home by now.”

It doesn't take a genius to realize that the only contact he gets through women is mostly by hooking-up. Though, by the look of it it seems that maybe he's longing for something more stable and serious. 

“You know, this time I'm here for a good vacation. No work. No writing.”

“That's great. I'm assuming all that traveling is tiring.”

“It is. I enjoy it and I love my job. But I came here to maybe come to new thoughts.” he explains. 

The waiter brings you your food shortly after. There's no awkward silence during eating, you keep a slightly lighter conversation as Gabriel remains nothing but a gentleman. You would lie if you said you're purposely focusing your gaze on the plate, rather than on Gabriel fearing your eyes would wander somewhere they should not. 

You don't care. Maybe they noticed you and clearly decided not to interrupt you as well. Or maybe there's still that awkward awaiting of them noticing. Sipping on a drink, in a hope it will bring you to different thoughts and help you relax a little bit more. 

The reason for your slight discomfort doesn't need to be named. 

“You assumed, I've been through a break-up. Why?” you ask, curious as he seems taken back.

“I asked more than assumed,” he corrects. You don't seem to be buying that statement but remain silent. “At first I thought you're not interested in me, particularly. But I get a feeling you're just not interested in general.”

“Why's that?”

Yes. He might be right. You're not necessarily trying to search for someone. But you don't get a feeling as if you were against it.

“Let me be bold here.”

“Please.” you encourage him.

“There are men who can't keep their eyes off you. And I simply noticed by spending time with you.”

You give him a doubtful look which he quickly disregards by shaking his head.

“Men are men.” you simply tell him.

He makes a disapproving sound. “There are hundreds of women at the beach, but the majority of them stare at you.”

“Okay, now you're just giving me a compliment.”

“I am not,” he laughs gently, “I could but I guess it is a compliment when there are men thirsting over you.”

“Like I said. Men are men. They're thirsting over anything that wears a bikini.”

“That–can be true. But my point still stands.”

You clear your throat, “Okay. Maybe I'm not completely in a place where I'm searching for a relationship. I never hid that.”

“Of course. But that's why I just tried to prove my point why I think you're not interested.”

You stay silent for a second. He's technically a stranger but it seems as if you were having this conversation with a friend. You don't feel uncomfortable and there's no need for you to get defensive over this topic. He's wondering and that's fine. 

“It wasn't a relationship. Just a hooking-up type of one and we ended it. So I just need to get things back how they were.”

And comically enough, the person who's a part of this is sitting just right over there. Even though Gabriel seems to notice quite a few things, Jungkook and your history with him seems to be oblivious to him.

Why do you care?

You've been trying to keep it a secret as long as possible until it got out. So what if he knows the truth? It's not like you'll see him again – most likely. You don't need anyone to judge you two or look at you differently. You definitely don't need any more insights into this matter than your friends have delivered. 

Your own mind is a mess.

And on top of it, Jungkook and you are on edge. 

The mention of him causes you to look up. And fuck. What a mistake you make. 

You meet Jungkook's gaze, the intense color in them burning even from this distance as he's already looking at you. Your breath hitches in the most subtle way. While you stare shocked that he has noticed you, his brows are pinched together.

He's not exactly pleased to find you here. 

Nara sits on the opposite side of the table, so all you can see is her back but she seems to be saying something to him. Jungkook reaches for the glass of wine and takes a few sips, eyes not leaving yours. 

Then he's the first one to look away. That tiny detail affects you more than you're able to admit and you almost fume when the frown disappears from his face. You watch it all. His features relax as he talks to her back, obviously listening to her even though his eyes were elsewhere. Even that is kind of annoying. 

Nara gently throws her head back and giggles almost so loudly, that you hear some of it. With the most burning eyes you watch Jungkook smile and let out the prettiest gentle laugh.

“Are you okay?”

You quickly avert your gaze to Gabriel. “Yeah.”

“Thought I already bore you.”

You push out a laugh, wishing Jungkook is looking. But once your eyes stupidly wander back to him – he actually is looking. 

You make sure Jungkook sees the tiny provoking movement upwards of your lips. And he does. His eyes narrow, addressing the glare to you and only you.

“No, I'm starting to have a lot of fun.”

Gabriel's and yours glasses clink together comically in a synchronized way. But the only ones who seem to be on the same wavelength and having an idea – are you and Jungkook.

a/n: F-I–N-A-L-L-Y! believe it or not, nobody wanted to get this chapter out more than me! if you've been around and reading some of the asks, you probably know life got crazy and busy! as always, I'm super grateful to everyone who's been patient for me and cheering on me whether it was online or offline ♡ to every person who's been harassing me on the internet over an update, this one's not for you. I see you and I'm not interested. I've said this in one of my asks – you never know what someone goes through offline and what could possibly be the reason of their lack of activity.

on another note, this chapter should've had more scenes and so much more was supposed to happen, but from obvious reasons I've decided to post it in the end because I still think it's a good chapter. anyway, I hope you'll like it just as much as I liked it when I was writing it (no matter how much time it took me 🥴) all the love goes to you guys!

If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for chapter 60 will be posted there!

goal: 9k notes 🌙

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

[starl0versz]

I finally did it i got into the void!

(MY PICTURE PROOFS ARE ON MY PAGE)

AFTER SO MUCH TIME CRYING AND BEATING MYSELF UP I FINALLY GOT INTO THE VOID AFTER 2 MONTHS OF BAD CIRCUMSTANCES USING THE DISTRACTION METHOD BY @luckykiwiii101 !!

i’m still shaking writing this stuff still but i would love to tell you guys what i manifested sorry for some typing errors

i manifested my curly hair being straight i originally had 4A hair but when i was younger i always felt like i wasn’t pretty if i didn’t have straight hair (that and because a few of my sibling’s have it. i was just unlucky i guess? because i’m biracial and my mom married a chinese man while her being half black and half japanese)

i always wanted to move out the country and explore my cultures a bit more so i’m moving to japan in 3 days (this is what excited me the most i always wanted to go there and start something new)

my desired face(s) i didn’t wanna look like anyone in specific so i took some features from a few pictures on pinterest and made a list of the features i wanted

my desired body

being finally fluent in japanese and chinese the studying was insane but now it feels like i’ve been fluent in the language for YEARS (i also developed an accent)

my life is always exciting and i don’t experience negativity

a scholarship dedicated to Tsinghua university ( i always wanted to go since i wanna be a vet)

a super cool international friend group

my mom never having to worry about money ever again (shes LOADED now)

a little ring that glows whenever someone is lying

my ENTIRE family restoring its bond and now theres family events happening now (this one makes me cry a lot because it feels surreal)

embodying my desired aesthetic (igari)

my family forever being safe no matter where we go

being drop dead gorgeous!

photogenic and video genic

all my desires from my subliminal playlist (i had like 572+ videos in my playlist)

a few model recommendations?

the rest are personal stuff but im actually still shaking so bad writing this because its like holy?? my life literally just changed and i don’t have to suffer anymore 😞 and i have new surprises waiting to show up in my life. thank you so much @luckykiwiii101

[littlemissprettyprincess]

2024 revised, 2025 dream life ♡

We're going to be treating 2025 as a blank canvas, so have full faith that this is going to be the year where you finally get everything you want. For this challenge, revision will be the key. You will be revising the entire past year. You can even revise the years before that if you'd like. After revising, you will go into 2025 knowing that you are living your dream life and that this is going to be your year. (You can use this challenge for the void state too!)

Create a list of all your desires. You can do this on a Google Document, in your Notes App, wherever you want. You can even include pictures, or make a Pinterest Board. Many of you have already done this, but if you haven't yet, I definitely recommend that you do!

Choose a few affirmations that you will stick to. Some affirmations that you can use are:

I am living my dream life, I always have been.

I have already manifested my dream life, and I am currently living it.

I have already entered the void state, I enter every night, and I've manifested my desires long ago.

Feel free to make your own!

Listen to this subliminal and follow the directions below:

Take a few deep breaths and let yourself relax. Play the subliminal, close your eyes, and repeat your chosen affirmations in your mind. If you like to visualize, do that too. Now, when you repeat your affirmations and visualize, I want you to have full trust that these affirmations are true, the scenes that you are visualizing are real memories that belong to you, and this is the life you've always been living. Do this for however long makes you feel fulfilled. My recommendation is around 10 minutes, but feel free to continue for longer if you'd like! Once you are done, accept that the old story has now officially been revised.

That's it! It's done. The old story has been revised and all you have to do now is accept that and persist in that fact. Keep reminding yourself that IT IS DONE. You can't fall back to the old story now, because there literally is no old story, it's been revised! You are already someone who is living their dream life, you always enter the void every night because you always have, you manifest instantly because it's been a skill that you've always acquired. By accepting this, you will get your desires, you will enter the void, your dream life will be yours.

Want some motivation before you start this challenge? Here:

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

HOW I CHANGED MY LIFE WITH THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION

my long awaited void state success story ˘ ³˘

2025 is going to be your year, I know it, and I want you all to know it too. ♡

[strab3rr]

(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[rooh---111]

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[bueckets]

The Hit List | 02.5

Pairing: fuckgirl!Paige x Mechi Student!reader

Masterlist (TBA) | Part One | Part Two (READ BEFORE 2.5)

Genre: romance, slow burn, enemies to lovers, kinda funny?, they fuck, n its hot n sweaty, cat n mouse

Description: What starts as a game of avoidance turns into something far more dangerous when old grudges and unfinished business crash headfirst into a truth neither of them are ready to face. Armed with a stubborn streak, a boyfriend you're trying too hard to believe in, and a simmering resentment that burns just as hot as desire, you swear you won’t let Paige win.

But when history keeps rewriting itself in glances, in touches, in words that cut too close—you start to wonder if you've had control of the game at all.

wc: 24k, yes, 24k

Authors Note: sorry this took forever, too many words so this is split into two parts (THIS IS part 2 chap 2)

Three Weeks Later

Midterms came and went, dragging you through hell and back. The sleepless nights, the cramming, the fucking Systems Engineering project that nearly made you throw your laptop out a window. It’s over. You survived.

And somewhere in between all of it—Paige Bueckers became just a name again.

Not a person. Not a presence. Not someone orbiting your every waking moment.

Just a name you see online.

A headline when UConn wins another game.

A clip someone reposts on Twitter, her pulling up from three like it’s muscle memory, making it look so goddamn easy.

Her life moves forward at full speed.

The season’s in full swing, meaning the team’s constantly gone—traveling for games, disappearing for days at a time, too busy to be anything but motion.

It’s weird.

Because after that night—after the fucking laundry room, after the way she felt against you, the way her breath tangled with yours—you thought she’d stick. Thought the weight of her would still be there, pressing into your ribs, twisting your stomach every time you caught a glimpse of her across campus. But she’s gone.

Not in the literal sense. You still hear her name, see her in passing, watch her run drills on the court like she owns it. But she’s not here. Not in the way that matters. She’s everywhere else—on screens, in headlines, living a life that no longer overlaps with yours.

And you hate that the only way you see her now is through a fucking phone. A video of her laughing on the sideline, hair damp with sweat, head thrown back like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A post-game interview where she’s loose, confident, rattling off the same media-trained answers like she’s never lost control of anything in her life. She’s fine. She’s thriving.

And the worst part? She probably doesn’t think about you at all.

So you adjust. You fall back into routine. Class. Studying. Work. You go to parties, sometimes. You drink. You dance. You make out with people whose names you don’t bother remembering. You kiss Eli again—once, just to see if it sparks something, if it fills the void she left behind. It doesn’t. It never does.

And then, just as fast as she disappeared—

She’s back.

It happens out of nowhere. One second, you’re dragging yourself through campus, brain fogged with sleep, the winter air biting at your skin, coffee scalding the tip of your tongue. And then—her. Right there. Like she never left. Like she hasn’t spent the last few weeks bouncing between cities, arenas, flashing cameras. Like she isn’t something bigger than all of this.

She’s standing outside the training facility, hoodie pulled over her head, joggers slung low on her hips, a duffel bag hanging off her shoulder. She’s talking to someone—one of her coaches, maybe—but she’s different. Not in the way she looks. No, she’s exactly the same, infuriatingly so. It’s something else, something in the way she carries herself, like she’s spent so much time away from this part of her life that she almost forgot it existed.

Like she almost forgot about you.

Your breath stutters. Your steps slow.

She’s close enough to touch. Close enough to reach out and prove she’s real.

And yet, she might as well be a ghost.

Because when she finally turns, finally glances up—she sees you. You know she does. But there’s nothing. No reaction. No flicker of recognition. No teasing smirk. No raised brow, no knowing glance, nothing. Just a passing look, empty and indifferent, before she turns away.

Like you’re nobody.

Like that night never happened.

Like you never fucking existed.

And it wrecks you. Because for the first time since this whole fucked-up, tangled thing started—

It feels like you lost.

Two Months Later

Dating Eli is easy. That’s the problem.

There’s no push and pull, no fire curling under your ribs, no moments where your pulse spikes so fast you think you might actually combust. There’s no game. No tension. Just quiet, steady comfort. He’s sweet—thoughtful, even. Picks you up for class sometimes, walks you to your dorm even when it’s out of his way, texts you good morning despite seeing you every day. A good boyfriend. The kind you’re supposed to want.

And you? You go through the motions. You hold his hand. Let him kiss you. Let him slip an arm around your shoulders as you walk across campus, even though it still feels foreign. Even though it still feels wrong. But you let it happen because it’s safe. Because he doesn’t make your stomach drop. Because he doesn’t wreck you.

Because he’s not her.

And that’s exactly what you need. Because Paige Bueckers doesn’t know you exist anymore.

She came back from the season like she shed you—like you were just something she outgrew. Whatever happened between you was nothing. A passing thought. A mistake so inconsequential she didn’t even have to acknowledge it. And if she doesn’t care? Then neither do you.

So you lean into Eli.

And when he invites you to a UConn game—something casual, something low-stakes, something he’s excited to take you to—you say yes. You say yes because it makes sense. Because this is your life now. Because Paige Bueckers is just another player on the court.

And that’s all she’s ever going to be.

The stadium is packed, the early spring air crisp, cutting through the warmth of the sun. You follow Eli up the steps, scanning for open seats, the scent of popcorn and hot dogs thick in the air. It’s different from the last time you were at a game. Not indoors, not under the blinding arena lights. The energy is looser, more relaxed, fans chatting easily, kids waving oversized foam fingers.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. It’s fine. It’s just a game. And you’re here with your boyfriend.

Eli finds seats near the middle, pulling you down beside him, arm draping lazily over your shoulders. You lean in, let yourself sink into the warmth of his body, let yourself pretend like this is all normal.

On the court, the team is warming up. Players jog across the pavement, stretching, shaking out their limbs. Your gaze drifts over them, detached, unfocused, not looking for anything in particular—

And then—her.

It shouldn’t feel like a fucking collision, but it does.

Your breath catches, body locking up as if it knew before your brain did. As if some deep, unshakable instinct recognized her presence before you could stop it. Paige jogs across the court, her shorts hanging loose around her thighs, her hoodie still on, dribbling lazily like she doesn’t have a single care in the world. Like she’s untouchable.

Your chest tightens. She still looks the same. Still is the same. And yet—something’s different. Maybe it’s the way she seems even more unreachable now, like she exists in a space just beyond your grasp.

You exhale sharply, force your gaze away.

You’re here with Eli.

You’re fine.

This means nothing.

Eli nudges you. “You good?”

You blink, nodding too quickly. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He smiles, presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Get ready. She’s gonna put on a show.”

You force a laugh.

And when you chance another glance at the court—Paige is already looking at you.

But this time, she reacts.

Just slightly. Just enough.

A shift in her eyes. A flicker of something.

And then—she smiles.

Not big. Not obvious. Just the barest curve of her lips, like she knows. Like she sees you sitting there, tucked under Eli’s arm, playing house, pretending like you’ve moved on. And for the first time in months, you know—

She hasn’t forgotten you at all.

You don’t watch the game. Not really.

You hear it—the sharp squeak of sneakers against pavement, the shrill whistle of fouls, the deafening roar of the crowd when UConn scores. You see it—the blur of white and navy jerseys cutting across the court.

But your focus is off.

Because all you can feel is the weight of her presence.

And the fact that she knows you’re here.

It fucks with you.

Because it had been easy to believe she forgot. That she let it go, left you in the past, moved on like you were nothing. But now—now she’s looking at you between plays. Not constantly. Not obviously. Just enough.

A glance while she’s standing at the free-throw line, hands on her hips, chest rising and falling. A flicker of her eyes when she jogs back on defense, scanning the crowd, skimming right past Eli like he doesn’t even exist.

And that fucking smirk when she sinks a three-pointer, lets it hang in the air for just a second before she turns, wiping the sweat off her brow with the hem of her jersey.

It’s deliberate. Calculated.

And it’s working.

Heat curls up your spine, a suffocating mix of frustration and something you won’t name. Your arms lock tight across your stomach, fingers curled into your sleeves. Beside you, Eli cheers, completely oblivious.

You wish you could be.

You wish you could tune her out. Pretend she’s just another player on the court. Pretend she doesn’t get under your skin.

But she’s in your head again. She won’t leave.

And worse—she knows it.

The game stretches on, endless. Every second is another reminder that she’s still there. That she’s not just some passing thought, some unfinished mistake. She’s real. She’s here. And she’s still in this fucking thing with you, even if neither of you are saying it out loud.

By the time the final buzzer sounds, you feel like you’ve been through a war.

Eli’s arm tightens around your shoulders, shaking you lightly. “See? Told you she’d put on a show.”

You nod, force a tight smile, but your chest feels hollow, your stomach twisted into something you don’t know how to untangle.

Because the game might be over—

But this?

This is just getting started.

The crowd filters out in waves, a slow, steady stream of bodies stretching stiff limbs, shaking off the lingering chill, still thrumming with energy from the win. Eli stands, his hand warm around yours as he pulls you up with him, his voice easy, unbothered, spilling into the space between you with post-game analysis—stats, highlights, a play he wants to rewatch later.

You nod when you’re supposed to, hum responses that sound just engaged enough, but none of it sticks. Your mind is elsewhere.

Because she’s still here.

Not with the team. Not caught up in post-game celebrations or media duties. No cameras, no noise, no excuses. Just lingering.

Sweat still clings to the curve of her neck, damp strands of blonde hair curling against her skin. Her hoodie is pulled over her head, water bottle hanging loose from her fingers, body relaxed like she has nowhere to be. But she’s not just standing there.

She’s watching.

Not outright. Not obvious. Just enough.

And Eli? He doesn’t notice.

Because why would he? He’s here with his girlfriend, celebrating a win, caught up in the moment, assuming she’s just watching the team clear out, thinking nothing of it.

You, on the other hand—

You can’t fucking breathe.

Every nerve is stretched too tight, buzzing under your skin, prickling like static, like she’s marking you without even touching you. Like she’s still fucking with you, seeing how much space she can take up in your head before you break.

And the worst part?

She looks fine.

Completely untouched. Unshaken. Not like she’s been thinking about you. Not like this has cost her anything.

And that—that is what undoes you.

Because this was supposed to be over.

You were supposed to be fine.

But here you are. Crumbling.

Eli tugs on your sleeve, easy, unaware. “Come on, let’s head out before traffic gets bad.”

You blink, drag yourself back into the present, nodding too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

One step.

Then two.

And then—

You don’t mean to look.

But you do.

Just for a second.

And she’s still there.

And she smiles.

Not big. Not obvious. Just that same, slow, knowing curve of her lips.

Like she sees right through you.

Like she knows you’re unraveling.

Like she’s won.

It’s three days after the game when the email comes in.

You don’t think much of it at first, just another facilities request forwarded to you through the engineering department—something about a faulty vent system in the women’s basketball locker room. Nothing urgent, nothing particularly exciting, just another task to check off your list between classes and whatever project is currently draining your soul. You’re barely skimming the details as you type out a confirmation reply, promising to stop by that afternoon, when it hits you.

Women’s basketball locker room.

Your stomach tightens.

For a second, you debate forwarding it off to someone else. Someone more qualified, someone with less history hanging in that space. But that’s fucking ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s been three months. Three months since the laundry room, since she pretended you didn’t exist, since you started playing house with Eli like it was supposed to fix everything. Three months of routine, of pretending you don’t track her name through game highlights and Twitter clips, of pretending you don’t feel her presence like a ghost in the back of your head.

You should be fine.

This shouldn’t be a thing.

It’s a fucking vent. You’re going to walk in, tighten some screws, maybe clean out a filter, and walk right back out. No big deal.

And yet, as you step into the building later that afternoon, tool bag slung over your shoulder, the cold press of the metal door handle beneath your palm, you feel something coil tight in your chest, something uneasy and electric, something that tells you this won’t be as easy as you want it to be.

The locker room is quiet when you step inside, the kind of silence that feels thick, like it’s waiting to be broken. The scent of sweat and body wash lingers in the air, fresh from practice, steam still clinging faintly from the showers in the back. Rows of lockers stretch across the room, some still open, jerseys draped lazily over the benches, sneakers kicked off in pairs on the floor.

You exhale slowly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you move toward the vent panel along the far wall. The faster you do this, the faster you can leave. You crouch, fingers working quickly to loosen the first few screws, trying to focus on the movement, the mechanics, anything but the slight tremble in your hands, anything but—

“Didn’t think I’d see you in here.”

The voice is unmistakable.

That low, casual drawl, edged in something sharper, something teasing, something that shouldn’t still make your breath catch the way it does.

You don’t turn immediately.

You keep working, keep your gaze locked on the vent, pretend like your pulse hasn’t just doubled. “Just fixing a maintenance issue,” you say, voice as even as you can manage. “Won’t be here long.”

There’s a pause, a shift of movement, the unmistakable sound of sneakers against tile. She’s coming closer.

“Shame,” Paige murmurs, and fuck, you feel it.

The weight of her gaze. The presence of her body somewhere behind you, close enough to make the air feel different, charged, suffocating.

You grip the screwdriver tighter.

She shouldn’t be here. Not now, not after all this time, not when you’ve spent months convincing yourself she doesn’t matter.

But she is.

And she’s talking to you.

You swallow, working another screw loose, forcing yourself to focus. “Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

She hums, and you hear the smile in it before you see it. “Finished early.” A pause, and then, “Didn’t know you were doing this kind of work.”

Your jaw tightens.

Of course, she didn’t. Because you don’t exist in her world anymore, do you? Not unless she decides you do.

You finally turn, slowly, pushing up from your crouch, letting yourself look at her.

And fuck, that was a mistake.

Because she looks good, better than you remember, the months of training and travel and games only sharpening her in ways that make your stomach twist. She’s standing there in sweatpants and a UConn tee, hair damp from a post-practice shower, arms crossed over her chest, watching you like she’s curious, like she’s interested, like she hasn’t spent three months pretending you were just another passing face in the crowd.

And it pisses you off.

You force a shrug, tilting your head slightly. “Didn’t know you cared what I was doing.”

Her smirk twitches. Just barely. Just enough.

“Didn’t say I did,” she replies smoothly, but the way she’s watching you says otherwise.

There it is.

The push and pull. The old game slipping back into place like it never left, like three months of avoidance didn’t mean shit.

And you should walk away. You should finish the job and leave, act like you don’t feel this, act like she’s just another person in another room.

But you don’t.

Because something deep in you, something bitter and unresolved and desperate, needs to know if this still means something.

So you take a step closer, watching the flicker in her eyes as you do.

“Then why are you standing here?” you ask, voice low, steady, challenging.

Paige doesn’t move. Doesn’t step back, doesn’t flinch, just holds your gaze, her mouth curving slightly, like she’s enjoying this, like she knows she’s getting to you.

“Maybe I’m just curious,” she says, tilting her head. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Three months.

Three months of silence. Three months of pretending. Three months of you thinking you were the only one who remembered, the only one who cared, the only one still feeling it.

And now?

Now she’s standing here, looking at you like she never forgot at all.

You don’t answer.

Because what is there to say? That, yeah, it’s been a while, and yet somehow it still feels like she never left your fucking head? That you’ve spent the past three months trying to scrub the memory of her hands off your skin, only to have them crawl back the second you laid eyes on her again? That seeing her at the game did something to you—something ugly, something desperate, something you don’t want to name?

No.

You won’t give her that.

So instead, you just lift a brow, forcing something casual onto your face, like her presence isn’t making your chest feel too tight. “Yeah. Guess it has.”

Paige watches you for a second longer, and you can see it happening—her weighing the moment, deciding how she wants to play this. Because that’s what she does, isn’t it? She plays. Gives you something, just a taste, just enough to make your stomach flip, before she rips it away.

And you should know better by now.

You do know better.

But then she shifts, weight rolling back onto one foot, arms still folded, her mouth quirking into that slow, almost lazy smirk—the one that’s never meant nothing.

“So,” she says, tilting her head, “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are we past that now?”

Your pulse stutters.

Your fingers tighten around the screwdriver in your hand.

You weren’t expecting that.

For her to just say it. To acknowledge it, to drag it into the light, the weight of your silence, the way you spent months dodging her like it might actually fix you.

You scoff, shaking your head, turning back to the vent, to anything that isn’t her mouth forming words that fuck you up. “I haven’t been ignoring you.”

It’s a lie.

Paige knows it’s a lie.

She steps closer—just enough that you can feel the shift of air between you, just enough that you catch the faint scent of her shampoo, something fresh, something clean, something too close.

“You sure?” she murmurs. “Because it kinda seemed like you were.”

Your teeth clench.

She’s doing it again.

The push and pull. The little tug, just enough to make you stumble, to throw you off balance, to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with.

You exhale slowly through your nose, focus on the screw you’re twisting into place, force your voice to stay neutral. “You seemed fine with it.”

There’s a pause. Just for a beat. Just long enough that you think maybe—maybe—you landed something.

Then—soft, amused—Paige says, “You think that?”

And it’s not fair.

The way she says it, the way it slides under your skin, the way it makes your chest squeeze, makes you feel fucking stupid for believing, even for a second, that maybe she really had forgotten you.

Your fingers tighten around the screwdriver.

She’s playing with you.

And the worst part?

You let her.

You don’t turn. Don’t face her. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

But your voice is quieter when you say, “Why do you even care?”

Another pause.

Then—

“Maybe I don’t.”

Your stomach drops.

It’s so fucking typical. Just when you think she’s giving you something, just when she pulls you an inch closer, she yanks it away.

You clench your jaw, inhale sharply, force yourself to stay still.

And then—because you refuse to let her win this—you huff a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Right. Of course.”

You finish tightening the last screw, closing the panel, standing up. You finally turn to her, tilting your head slightly, forcing something light onto your face, like you’re fine, like she isn’t doing what she always fucking does.

“Well,” you say, slipping the screwdriver back into your bag. “It’s been great catching up, but I have shit to do.”

You move to step past her.

But she shifts, blocking your path.

Not aggressively. Not obviously.

Just enough.

Just enough that you have to stop.

Just enough that you have to look at her.

Paige licks her lips, considering you, and her voice is quieter this time, almost thoughtful. “You don’t like when I do that, do you?”

Your stomach tightens.

You keep your face neutral. “Do what?”

She tilts her head slightly. “Give you something, then take it away.”

You swallow.

Because the fact that she’s saying it out loud—naming it, acknowledging it—makes your chest squeeze so hard it’s almost painful.

You force a shrug. “You do whatever you want, Paige.”

You step around her, adjusting the strap of your bag like the conversation hasn’t just sunk claws into your spine, like you aren’t already burning up from the inside out. You throw one last casual glance over your shoulder, just to make a point, just to show her this doesn’t fucking matter.

And then—

“Is he your boyfriend?”

It’s smooth, deliberate, cutting through the silence with the ease of a well-placed knife.

Your body goes rigid.

Not enough to be noticeable. Not enough to give her the satisfaction. But she notices.

You school your face into something neutral before turning back to her. “Yeah.”

The second the word leaves your mouth, Paige scoffs. Then—slow, quiet, like she’s really thinking about it—she laughs.

It’s not loud. It’s not obvious. But it hits.

It slides under your skin, needles into your chest, presses against something raw and unsettled.

You know exactly what she’s laughing at.

Not at Eli, not really.

She’s laughing at you.

At the fact that you’re standing here, pretending like that word doesn’t feel foreign in your mouth, like it doesn’t taste like something you don’t quite believe.

At the fact that you’ve spent months throwing yourself into a version of reality where he is the answer.

At the fact that she knows—she fucking knows—that if he really was, you wouldn’t be here.

Your throat tightens.

You square your shoulders. “Something funny?”

Paige shakes her head, smirk barely there, but sharp. “Nah.” A pause, her gaze flicking over you like she’s amused, like she’s bored. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

Your fingers curl around the strap of your bag, tight enough to sting.

She tilts her head slightly. “Does he know you’re here?”

You force your jaw not to clench. “Why would it matter?”

Paige hums, the sound lazy, almost dismissive. “It wouldn’t.”

You don’t know why that lands deeper than it should, why it hits like something solid in your chest.

She doesn’t fucking care.

You exhale sharply, roll your shoulders, force yourself to act like you don’t feel like she just pressed a finger right against something bruised inside you.

“Well,” you say, tone light, detached, like this whole conversation hasn’t just put a fucking stone in your stomach, “great catching up.”

And this time, when you walk out—when you force your feet to move, when you push through the door into the cooler hallway air—you don’t look back.

You don’t have to.

Because you can still feel her there.

Still hear the low echo of her laugh.

Still fucking feel her.

And you hate that it still makes your chest tighten.

The locker room door swings shut behind you, but the conversation doesn’t leave with it.

It sticks.

It clings to your skin, coils in your stomach, presses into your ribs like something sharp and unshakable.

You walk down the hallway fast, like you can outrun the weight of her laugh in your ears, like you can erase the way she looked at you when she said that’s your boyfriend?—like the words weren’t just words, like they were something else, something heavier, something soaked in disbelief and mockery.

You should be over her by now.

But then why does your skin still burn? Why does your pulse still hammer against the inside of your wrist? Why does the way she said it—casual, unbothered, like it didn’t even fucking matter—make something in you want to break?

The night stretches out after that, long and restless. You try to study, but you can’t focus. You try to sleep, but every time you close your eyes, she’s there. Her smirk. Her scoff. The way she laughed like you were a joke. Like he was a joke.

You spend the next week avoiding places where you might run into her, avoiding anywhere that makes you feel like a live wire, avoiding thinking about her—

And it works.

Until it doesn’t.

Because the thing about Paige Bueckers is that she has a way of creeping back in, of making herself known, of pulling you back into her orbit whether you want to be there or not.

It happens at another party.

A packed house, music pulsing through the walls, the kind of night where people are drinking like they’re trying to forget something, where everything feels just a little too loud, a little too bright, a little too much.

You’re standing in the kitchen, fingers curled around a red cup, Eli close behind you, talking to someone you don’t know. His hand is warm where it rests on your hip, an absentminded touch, a casual claim.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

Until you’re not.

Until your eyes flicker past the crowd, past the shifting bodies and pulsing bass, past the open doorway—

And land right on her.

Paige is in the next room, leaning against the wall, head tilted, that lazy, practiced ease draped over her like armor. She’s watching something—someone. A girl. Pretty. Brunette. Standing too close, laughter spilling past glossy lips as she hangs on whatever Paige just said.

Paige isn’t even touching her. Doesn’t need to. Just standing there, looking, smirking, waiting. And the worst part? You know exactly what she’s doing.

Like she could have her if she wanted.

Like it’s not even a fucking question.

Your stomach knots, tight and hot. Not with jealousy—no, it’s worse than that. It’s recognition.

Because you know what it’s like to be on the other side of that look.

You know what it’s like to be wanted by her.

The ghost of it slams into you like a fist to the ribs—how it felt to have those eyes locked on you, sharp and knowing, pinning you down like a game she was already winning. How it felt when she had you right there and she knew it.

Your grip tightens around your cup, fingers digging in like it’s the only thing holding you together. Your breath stutters, the air too thick, the room suddenly too small.

She hasn’t seen you yet.

She’s too caught up in her game, too wrapped up in not caring.

So you do the same.

You force yourself to turn back to Eli, to play your part. You smile, lean into his touch, let him press his lips to your temple like it’s easy, like it’s nothing. Like it means something.

And maybe it works.

Maybe it doesn’t.

Because when you chance another glance—just for a second—

Paige is already looking at you.

And this time—

She smirks.

Slow. Deliberate. Like she’s been waiting for you to look. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Like she knows exactly how much space she still takes up in your fucking head.

And that’s when you snap.

You don’t think.

You move.

Your cup clatters onto the counter, liquid sloshing over the rim, but you don’t care. You slip out of Eli’s reach, push through the crowd—away, anywhere, somewhere with air that doesn’t taste like her.

Your pulse is a riot, hammering against your ribs, deafening in your ears as you shove past people pressed against walls, past laughter and voices swallowed by the music, past the tight, choking heat in your chest.

Your hands are shaking. Your breath is uneven. You need a second.

Just one fucking second to breathe—

And then—

A door swings open, and suddenly—

She’s right there.

Paige.

Still smirking.

Still looking like she has all the time in the world.

Still making your stomach feel like it’s caving in on itself.

Your chest rises and falls too fast, heat crawling up your neck, pooling low in your stomach, everywhere.

She leans against the doorway, casual as ever, the light behind her casting long shadows over the sharp angles of her face. She looks obnoxiously good, like she knows exactly how lethal she is.

She tilts her head. “What’s wrong?” she murmurs, voice low, teasing, like she already knows the answer.

And fuck her.

Fuck her for this.

For knowing you this well.

For still knowing you this well.

You shove past her, shoulder knocking against hers, but she moves at the last second, stepping just enough to block you—

And then—her hand.

Fingers curling around your wrist. Not hard. Not pulling. Just there.

You suck in a sharp breath.

She’s not holding you here. Not keeping you against your will.

But she doesn’t let go.

And neither do you.

The air between you crackles, thick, heavy, dangerous. The weight of something unsaid presses into your ribs, clinging to your skin, wrapping around you like a fucking chokehold.

Paige watches you.

And this time—

She doesn’t laugh.

She doesn’t smirk.

She waits.

And maybe—just maybe—

This time, you’re the one who moves first.

The space between you is electric, charged, something twisting tight in your chest like a live wire ready to snap. The hallway is dim, shadows stretching long against the walls, muffling the noise of the party outside, trapping you in this thing you’ve been running from for months.

Paige’s fingers are still around your wrist, not tight, not forcing—just there, anchoring you, keeping you from bolting like you probably should. Her eyes flicker over your face, searching, waiting, and fuck, you hate how easily she does this, how effortlessly she pulls you back into her gravity like you were never gone at all.

Your breath is uneven. Your pulse is pounding in your throat, but your voice is steady when you say, “What game are you playing at?”

She blinks, just once, slow and measured. Then the corner of her mouth curves, something smug, something dangerous. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Your stomach drops, rage curling up into your throat so fast it makes your vision go sharp.

You shove her.

Harder than you should, more than just frustration, more than just anger. It’s months of this—of her pushing, pulling, giving you something and then acting like it never fucking happened. It’s her laugh in the locker room, her smirk at the game, the way she looked at you through the crowd like she was daring you to react, to feel. It’s all of it—the way she still owns you and acts like she doesn’t even care.

Paige stumbles back a step, but her hand never leaves you.

Instead, she grabs your other arm, fingers tight around your biceps, steadying herself, steadying you. Her grip is firm, strong, the heat of her palms burning through your sleeves.

Her smirk is gone.

And when she speaks again, her voice is different. Lower. Rougher.

“I’m not playing at a game.”

Your breath catches.

Because it’s not cocky. It’s not teasing. It’s real.

Her hands flex slightly on your arms, like she’s bracing herself, like she needs you to hear this.

And you do.

It sinks under your skin, gets lodged somewhere between your ribs, breaks something open inside of you that you’ve been trying to keep sealed shut.

Your heart is hammering. Your whole body is buzzing, tight, waiting.

Paige is still holding you.

And she’s so fucking close.

You can feel her breath against your lips, can see the flicker in her eyes, the way her chest is rising and falling just as fast as yours.

You don’t know who moves first.

Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s both of you at the same fucking time, colliding like you were never meant to be anything but this.

Your mouths crash together, hot and desperate, months of tension unraveling all at once, burning through every nerve in your body.

Paige exhales sharply against you, hands tightening around your arms before sliding up, up, framing your face, pulling you deeper into it, like she’s afraid you might disappear again.

You fist the fabric of her hoodie, dragging her into you, needing her closer, needing more.

Her body presses against yours, her lips insistent, rough, a little reckless, like she’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

The hallway feels too small, the walls too close, your hands too desperate where they roam—her waist, her shoulders, the sharp edge of her jaw.

Paige groans softly against your mouth, and it wrecks you.

It fucking destroys you.

Because it’s real.

Because she wants this.

Because for the first time, she’s not taking it away.

You don’t stop.

Neither does she.

It’s all heat, all breath, all want. Paige’s mouth is rough, greedy, like she’s making up for every second you’ve spent apart, every time she pretended she didn’t see you, every time she smirked at you like this was just a game. Her hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, gripping the fabric of your shirt like she’d die if she let go.

You’re no better.

Your fingers fist in her hoodie, tugging her closer, dragging her against you, needing her body against yours, needing her to feel what she’s doing to you. The hallway barely exists anymore—the party, the noise, Eli—none of it fucking matters. Just her. Just her mouth, her hands, the way she kisses you like she’s starving for it.

Then, between kisses, between desperate little gasps, she murmurs it.

“I need you, baby.”

It wrecks you.

Fucking destroys you.

The word slips out easy, unthinking, raw. Not teasing, not smug, not calculated. Just real.

Your breath catches.

Paige must feel the way your body reacts, the way your nails dig into her arms, the way your hips press forward into hers, because she groans against your mouth and drags her teeth over your bottom lip.

You’re moving before you can think.

Paige is pushing you, guiding you back, back, until your shoulder blades hit a door, until she’s fumbling with the handle, barely breaking the kiss long enough to shove it open.

The room is dark, empty. Some random spare bedroom, barely furnished, barely even fucking registered because the second the door slams shut, Paige is on you again.

Her hands slide under your shirt, rough palms dragging up your ribs, fingertips pressing hard, desperate. Your breath is uneven, your body thrumming with something electric, something you can’t stop, something you don’t want to stop.

You don’t think.

You don’t need to think.

You just pull her hoodie up over her head, fingers tangling in the fabric for a second before it’s gone, discarded somewhere on the floor. Paige exhales sharply as you press into her, as your mouth moves against her jaw, down her throat, tasting, taking.

Her fingers slip into your hair, tugging just enough to make you feel it, enough to make you moan against her skin.

“Fuck,” she mutters, voice rough, breathless, like she’s unraveling, like you’re doing this to her.

You are.

And she fucking loves it.

Her hands move lower, sliding over your hips, gripping tight, like she’s anchoring herself, like she can’t stop touching you, like she’s making sure you’re real.

You kiss her again, harder, messier, pushing her back until her legs hit the edge of the bed, until you’re both toppling onto it, tangled together, all mouths and hands and heat.

Paige knows she’s winning.

You can see it in her eyes, the slow drag of them over your body, the way she takes her time, drinking in every reaction like she’s cataloging them, memorizing what makes you shiver, what makes you squirm, what makes your breath hitch in your throat.

She still likes the game.

She still likes to play.

But this time, she isn’t letting you pull away.

This time, she’s going to take everything.

Her fingers skim over your stomach, slow, teasing, just enough to make you feel it but not enough to satisfy anything. Her mouth follows, lips pressing soft, lingering kisses down, down, down, like she has all the time in the world.

Your head tilts back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut, but then she stops.

She stops completely.

The heat of her, the weight of her, everything—just gone.

Your eyes snap open, and she’s just looking at you, smug, comfortable, settled between your legs like she owns this moment, like she knows she has you right where she wants you.

Her fingers trail up your thigh, featherlight, barely there.

“You want this?”

Your stomach clenches.

She knows the answer.

She fucking knows.

You glare at her, shifting under her touch, frustrated, dizzy, so strung out you can barely think. “Paige—”

She smiles. Slow. Wicked.

And then, just as easily, “Say it.”

Your breath shudders out of you.

Because this?

This is her game.

She wants to hear you admit it. She wants to make you admit it.

She wants you to lose.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, your pulse a steady riot in your throat, in your wrists, between your legs where she still hasn’t fucking touched you.

But you can’t play this game forever.

Not when she already owns you.

Not when she already knows.

Your voice is thin when you say it.

“I want you.”

And the second the words leave your mouth—

She moves.

Paige grins, low and satisfied, and then she finally stops playing.

She knows she has you, like she’s been waiting for this moment, dragging it out, savoring every second of watching you come undone beneath her. She doesn’t rush. She doesn’t give you everything all at once. No, she takes her time, letting her fingers trace the curve of your hip, pressing light, teasing kisses down your stomach, exhaling slow like she’s enjoying this, like this is just as much for her as it is for you.

You’re burning alive.

Your breath is uneven, your hands twisting in the sheets, thighs already trembling with the anticipation of her next move. But she doesn’t move—not in the way you need her to.

Instead, she just looks at you.

From between your legs, eyes dark, lips parted, expression unreadable, like she’s still deciding how she wants to do this.

Your stomach clenches.

“Paige—”

She presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate, her nails digging in just slightly when she grips your hips, holding you in place.

“Shh, baby,” she murmurs, and fuck, there it is again.

That word.

Casual, unthinking, sliding out of her mouth like she doesn’t even realize she’s saying it. Like she means it.

You shudder.

Paige notices. Of course, she does.

Her smirk curves against your skin, and then—

She finally stops playing.

The first press of her mouth sends a raw, electric jolt through you, your hips jerking up on instinct, fingers clawing into her hair like you’ll die if you let go. But she’s already moving—already fucking dragging this out like she wants you begging, like she’s savoring every second of your desperation. Her tongue flickers, slow and teasing, pressing, stroking, curling, soaking you with her hunger, her need.

She moans against your cunt like she’s been fucking starving for it. Like she’s been waiting, aching, dreaming of this moment for weeks, and now that she’s got you open beneath her, there’s no way she’s letting you go easy.

She drags it out.

Like she wants to ruin you.

Like she wants to tear you apart and put you back together with her tongue.

Your nails scrape against her scalp, hard enough to hurt, but she only groans, only pushes deeper, her tongue slipping, flicking, thrusting into the dripping heat of you. You’re gasping now, thighs trembling, back arching, breath catching in desperate, broken moans you can’t even bite back. You can feel her smirk, the way she’s reveling in it, the way she’s enjoying every single fucking sound you make for her.

Her fingers press in, spreading you, holding you open, her tongue working, her lips sucking, teasing, devouring—like she’s trying to drink every last drop of you. The obscene, wet sounds of her mouth on you make you whimper, make you grind down against her, make you clutch her hair so tight she groans into your slick heat.

Your body is shaking.

Paige tightens her grip, keeps you there, keeps you spread for her, keeps you exactly where she wants you—helpless, ruined, fucking wrecked on her tongue.

And just when you think you can’t take it anymore—just when the pleasure coils so tight in your stomach it’s about to snap—she fucking speeds up.

And you’re gone.

You don’t know if you scream her name. You don’t know if you sob it. But the pleasure detonates inside you like a fucking bomb, ripping through your body, setting every nerve on fire, leaving you shaking, gasping, falling apart beneath her mouth.

When you finally come back down—breathless, wrecked, soaked and still trembling—Paige is looking up at you from between your legs, her lips swollen, her chin glistening, her eyes dark and wicked.

Paige’s brow quirks up and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving yours. You’re still gasping, still trembling, your body melted into the mattress, legs spread, thighs twitching from the aftershocks of what she just did to you. But she doesn’t move away. Doesn’t crawl up to lie beside you, doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath.

She licks her lips, smirks, and says, “I’m not done with you.”

And then she’s moving.

Crawling back up onto the bed, her body sliding over yours, her hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider before she finally lets her weight press down. Her skin is hot, slick, her breath heavy and sweet, her thigh slotting between yours as she pins you there beneath her.

Then she grabs your tits.

No teasing, no hesitation—she palms them, squeezes, kneads, rolling the soft flesh in her hands like she owns you, like she’s claiming every inch of you all over again. Her thumbs flick over your nipples, once, twice, before she leans down and takes one into her mouth.

The heat of her tongue, the wet pull of her lips—it makes you cry out, makes you arch into her, makes your hands fly up to grip her head as she sucks, hard, her teeth scraping just enough to make your whole body jolt.

“Fuck,” you whimper, thighs clenching around her, but she just chuckles against your skin, her mouth latching onto your other nipple, her fingers tweaking and rolling the one she just left wet and swollen.

Then her hand moves up.

She grabs your chin, tilts your face up, and before you can even process it—

She shoves her fingers into your mouth.

Her fingers, still wet from you, slip past your lips, pressing against your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself as she pushes them deeper. Your lips part around them, your tongue curling against the salty-slick heat of her touch, a soft, helpless whimper slipping from your throat.

Paige groans at the sight, eyes dark, lips parted, her fingers flexing inside your mouth before she pulls them out—

And spits.

Right into your mouth.

A hot, wet drop onto your waiting tongue, mixing with your taste, with the slickness she just forced you to swallow.

“Swallow it,” she breathes, her voice thick, rough, her fingers trailing down your throat as you do exactly what she fucking tells you.

And then her hand is between your legs again, fingers slipping through your soaked, throbbing heat, pressing in, pushing deep—

Fucking you all over again.

Paige’s fingers drive deep, knuckles sinking into the wet heat of you, her palm grinding against your swollen clit as you gasp, as you choke on the pleasure, your body arching into her touch like you can’t help it. Like you’re made for this. Made for her.

"Fuck—yeah," she groans, watching you, watching the way your body reacts to her. "You feel that? Feel how fucking good I make you take it?"

Your breath stutters, your hips rolling down against her hand, your mouth falling open, nothing but desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips.

Paige smirks, dark and wicked, pressing in deeper, curling her fingers just right, just enough to have you fucking shaking. "Bet he never got you this wet, huh?" she taunts, her voice thick with heat, with possession. "Bet he never made you moan like this."

Your fingers clutch at her shoulders, nails digging in, your head tilting back against the pillows as she fucks into you, slow but deep, deliberate, like she’s making a point. Like she’s proving something.

"You wanna lie to me?" she murmurs, lips brushing your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "Wanna tell me he’s ever made you come like this? That he’s ever had you dripping down his fingers like a desperate little slut?"

You whimper, shaking your head, unable to speak, unable to do anything but take it.

"That’s what I thought," she breathes, grinning against your throat, her teeth scraping over your pulse before she drags her tongue along your skin. "That little boyfriend of yours wouldn’t know what to do with this pussy if it fucking begged him."

She pulls her fingers out, slow and teasing, leaving you empty, aching—only to shove them back in, hard, deep, her palm slapping against your soaked skin as you sob, as you fucking fall apart.

"He ever make you scream?" she growls, fucking you rougher, faster, her fingers pressing against that spot inside you that makes your whole body jolt. "He ever make you soak the sheets like this?"

Your back bows, pleasure slamming through you, your nails raking down her back.

"You’re fucking mine," Paige groans, her mouth on your jaw, your throat, her tongue tasting the sweat on your skin. "This pussy? It’s mine now. Say it."

You barely manage to breathe out the words—"It’s yours"—before she presses her palm against your clit, her fingers curling just right, and you break.

Pleasure rips through you, white-hot and shattering, your whole body shaking, your vision going hazy as you come, as Paige fucks you through it, as she watches you, revels in it, grins like she just fucking ruined you.

And she did.

She fucking did.

——-

You wake slowly, the kind of slow that doesn’t feel like rest. The kind that feels like being pulled from something deep and heavy, like your body’s been wrung out and put back together all wrong. The sheets are soft, warm, unfamiliar, and there’s a weight draped over your hip—solid, steady, too much. Your breath stutters before your brain even catches up.

Paige.

She’s there.

Heat ghosts against the back of your neck, steady and unhurried, the rhythm of her breathing lulling, like sleep still has a hold on her. Her arm is slung around your waist, fingers curled lazily against your stomach, like she belongs there. Like she’s never left before.

And that—that is what makes your chest tighten.

Because this isn’t just some drunken mistake. This isn’t heat or tension or something you can chalk up to unresolved bullshit. This is her in your space, in your bed, in the quiet after. And she’s never stayed before.

Your pulse kicks up, your fingers twitch against the sheets. Last night slams into you all at once—the scrape of her teeth, the press of her hands, the way she looked at you, like she was done playing. Like she wasn’t giving you a choice anymore.

Your stomach clenches.

You don’t know what to do with this.

With her.

So you move, slow, careful, trying not to wake her as you shift out from under her arm. But the second you pull away, Paige stirs, her breath hitching, her grip tightening for just a fraction of a second before her eyes flutter open.

She blinks at you, still groggy, still soft, and for one, dangerous moment, she doesn’t say anything.

She just looks at you.

And you can’t breathe.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the softness vanishes.

Paige stretches, rolls onto her back, runs a hand through her hair, like she does this all the time, like she’s just woken up from any other night, not this one.

“Morning,” she mutters, voice rough with sleep.

You swallow, force yourself to move, force yourself to sit up and swing your legs off the bed. You don’t look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. “Morning.”

You feel her watching you.

Feel her waiting.

For what, you don’t know.

But when you stand, reaching for your clothes, Paige finally speaks again.

“You leaving?”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt.

You could stay. You could let this morning linger, let whatever this is stretch out just a little longer.

But the longer you stay, the harder it’ll be to pretend like this isn’t something.

So you nod, still not looking at her. “Yeah.”

Paige exhales through her nose, shifts behind you, and you expect her to let it go, to brush it off like she always does.

Instead—

“You gonna tell him?”

Your stomach drops.

You don’t need to ask who she means.

Eli.

The name rings in your head like a warning, like something cold and sharp, and you hate that she’s the one who brought it up, that she’s the one forcing you to look at it when you were this close to just leaving without dealing with the weight of it.

You squeeze your eyes shut for half a second before turning to face her.

Paige is propped up on one elbow now, watching you with something unreadable in her expression, like she’s testing you, like she’s seeing if you’ll break first.

You lick your lips, pulse hammering. “That’s none of your business.”

Paige’s lips twitch, and for a second, you think she’s going to let it go.

But then—

She scoffs. Shakes her head. Leans back against the headboard with a lazy, almost bored kind of smirk.

“Right. Forgot you’re still playing house with him.”

Your whole body goes rigid.

She’s doing it again.

Tugging at you, pushing you, seeing what you’ll do.

Your jaw clenches, fingers fisting into the hem of your shirt. “I’m not playing anything.”

Paige hums, unconvinced. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Something inside you snaps.

Because how dare she?

How dare she act like you’re the one playing games when she’s the one who ignored you for three months? When she’s the one who smirked at you across a fucking stadium like she knew she had you? When she’s the one who—

You exhale sharply, shaking your head, forcing yourself to breathe.

This is exactly what she wants.

So you don’t give it to her.

You pull your shirt over your head, reach for your shoes, straighten up.

Then, voice even, you say, “This didn’t mean anything, right?”

It’s a test.

You can see the flicker in her eyes, the quick way her throat bobs as she swallows.

But it’s gone in an instant.

Paige shrugs, casual, careless, like she’s already over it.

“Right,” she echoes. “Just a good time.”

Your chest tightens.

You don’t know what answer you wanted, but that—

That wasn’t it.

You nod once, sharp, then turn for the door.

And this time, you don’t fucking stop.

The door slams behind you, the force of it rattling down your spine, but you don’t stop moving.

You storm down the hallway, your breath sharp, hands curled into fists, every nerve in your body buzzing like a live wire. You don’t let yourself think. Thinking would mean feeling, and you can’t—won’t—give her that.

Not after what she just said.

Not after this didn’t mean anything, right?

Not after she agreed with you.

Just a good time.

That’s all it was. That’s all she wants.

You push through the front door, stepping into the cold air outside, your breath coming fast, too shallow, like you just ran ten miles. You shove your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie, fingers curling against the fabric, trying to ground yourself, trying to—

Your phone rings.

Or at least, you think it’s your phone.

The vibration against your palm jolts you, and you pull it out, ready to decline the call, ready to shut the entire fucking world out.

But then—

You see the name.

Taylor.

Your breath catches.

Your chest tightens.

The cold bites at your skin, but suddenly, it’s like everything else stops.

Because this isn’t your phone.

This isn’t your hoodie.

You look down at yourself, the oversized sleeves, the familiar weight of the fabric, the scent clinging to it—her scent.

Paige’s hoodie.

Paige’s fucking phone.

And Taylor is calling.

Your stomach lurches.

Right back where you started.

The phone keeps ringing, vibrating steadily in your hand, demanding something from you that you can’t give.

You stare at the screen, at the name that shouldn’t be your problem, at the proof of what Paige just walked away from.

And something inside you snaps.

You spin on your heel, shoving back through the front door, retracing your steps, moving fast, fueled by something you don’t even have a name for.

You don’t knock.

You don’t hesitate.

You shove the door open, expecting her to be there, expecting her to still be sitting on that bed with her legs spread and that fucking look on her face, smug and satisfied and untouchable.

But she’s gone.

Just fucking gone.

Like she was never here at all.

The phone stops ringing.

Silence.

You stand there, chest heaving, hoodie too big on you, your fingers still curled around a phone that doesn’t belong to you.

The phone is still warm in your hand.

It shouldn’t matter. It’s just a piece of plastic, just a screen with a name that shouldn’t be your problem. But it is. The weight of it presses against your palm, solid and damning, the name Taylor burned into your retinas, a fucking mockery of everything that just happened.

Paige left.

Vanished like this was nothing, like she didn’t just dig her fingers into you and pull you under, like she didn’t just whisper your name against your skin, like she didn’t just look you in the eye and say just a good time before slipping away like a fucking ghost.

Like she didn’t just ruin you.

And if she thinks she gets to walk away from this untouched—

She’s wrong.

Your feet move before your brain even catches up, before you can think about how reckless this is, before you can stop yourself from doing exactly what she wants. Because you already know where she is.

Where she always is.

The athletic facility is quieter than usual this late at night, the halls dimly lit, silent except for the distant hum of vending machines and the soft squeak of your shoes against the polished floors. But the second you push through the doors to the locker room—

The silence shatters.

Laughter.

Voices overlapping, casual, easy, still thrumming from practice, still buzzing with energy. The kind of normalcy that makes your blood boil, because your world is fucking spinning and yet—

She’s here.

Paige is here.

Leaning against the lockers, towel draped around her neck, a lazy grin curling at her lips as she listens to something one of the girls is saying. Loose. Relaxed. Unbothered.

Like she didn’t just leave you standing in the wreckage she made.

Heat slams into your ribs, a pulse of something violent and ugly crackling under your skin. Your fingers tighten around the phone, nails digging in, breath sharp and unsteady. And before you even fully register what you’re doing—

You move.

The door swings shut behind you with a slam, the force of it cutting through the noise, making heads turn, making conversation die mid-sentence.

Paige doesn’t move.

Doesn’t flinch.

But her shoulders go rigid for half a second before she shifts—casual, calm, fucking unhurried.

Like she already knows it’s you.

Like she felt you coming before she even looked.

And when she finally does—

The smirk is already forming.

Already settling into place like armor. Like a mask. Like she thinks she still has control of this.

But she doesn’t.

You stop in front of her, too close, way too close, enough to make the other girls shift where they stand, enough to make the laughter fully die out, enough to make the air feel thick.

Paige stays leaned against the lockers, pretending, but her eyes flicker over you, sharp and calculating.

Assessing.

Waiting.

So you don’t make her wait long.

You lift the phone, hold it up between you. Let her see it. Let her know why you’re here.

And then—voice low, rough, barely steady under the weight of your fucking anger—

“You think you can just fuck me and play me while your girlfriend still calls?”

The reaction is instant.

The shift in the room is immediate.

Someone swears under their breath. One of the girls lets out a quiet oh, shit. Another shifts awkwardly, eyes darting between you and Paige like they just walked into a fucking war zone.

But you don’t look at any of them.

You only see her.

And Paige—

For the first time, she doesn’t have a comeback.

Her lips part slightly. Her throat bobs as she swallows. Her fingers twitch just slightly around the towel slung over her shoulder.

It’s subtle.

Barely there.

But you see it.

The hesitation.

The way she’s trying to catch up to you, trying to find the right move, trying to figure out how to pull back control.

But there isn’t one.

Because this time, you’re the one leading.

This time, she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say.

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, pressing into your ribs, into your throat, into her.

Then—slowly—Paige exhales through her nose, shifts against the lockers, expression smoothing into something blank, something unreadable.

She tilts her head slightly, eyes flickering over your face, voice deceptively soft when she says—

“You done?”

Your stomach twists.

Not with pain. Not with embarrassment.

With rage.

Because she isn’t sorry.

She isn’t guilty.

She’s just pissed that you called her out in front of them.

Your grip tightens around the phone, your pulse hammering in your ears, and for a second, you think about throwing it at her.

Then, just as quickly, you step forward—lean in close, so only she can hear—

And whisper, voice like a knife—

“You’re a fucking coward.”

Paige’s jaw locks.

Her whole body tenses.

And that—

That’s how you know you landed a hit.

You hold her gaze a second longer, long enough to make sure she felt it, long enough to see the way her breath catches, the way her fingers twitch, the way she’s fighting to stay still.

Then—

Without waiting for a response—

You shove the phone against her chest.

She catches it automatically, fingers closing around it, but she doesn’t look down.

She just looks at you.

Expression unreadable.

Eyes sharp, dark, burning.

You should look away first.

You should be the one to turn and walk out.

But you don’t.

You hold her gaze.

Daring her.

Challenging her.

Waiting.

For what, you don’t fucking know.

But you can feel it.

Feel something shifting, feel something breaking, feel something coming.

And for the first time—

You think Paige might feel it, too.

But then—

She swallows.

Nods once.

Slips the phone into her pocket like it doesn’t matter.

Then—voice low, smooth, too fucking even—

She says, “See you around.”

Like this was nothing.

Like she didn’t just lose.

Like she’s already planning how to fucking win.

This is war.

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

[lawoffgirls]

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Revision and Void State; how to revised your failed attempts with the void state!.𖥔 ݁ ˖

This thread will be based on the idea I had when @/samoaconsiencia(twt) asked for help in our LOA group on how she could revised failed attempts to enter the void state.

Well, I've always been very obsessed with the idea of ​​void, I've been to a toxic level, but nowadays I even like to research more about it to understand both the state and learn more about our mind, but anyway, I've always been thinking, how could I revised my previous attempts failed with the void state, because it is reported as pitch black, I would not feel or hear anything, how would I visualize this? And then when Skye shared this doubt in the group, it seems that my mind went PLIM ✨️ and this idea came up!

Step 1:

You will choose simple things that you want to manifest, such as a tablet, eye color, appearance, etc.

(You can also choose an event, or something that has already happened and say it was a success story of the void!

Ex: your sp liked your story

You can say that this happened because it was a "test" success story of the void!!)

Step 2:

You will define a number of attempts that you have tried to enter the void, for example, let's suppose that you want to review that you have tried enter the void only 4 times (it doesn't matter if it was more or less than that, that choice is yours, it's a revision).

Step 3: Now you will revised that in all these attempts that you decided, you were successful, and in each attempt, as a "test" mode you took on One of those desires that I asked you to choose in step 1, and then that's it!

"But angel, how do I revised?"

It's simple my love, you will define your goal, what you want to review, in this case it is the failed attempts to the void, which will now be successful attempts, in this you accept that you have achieved it, and live your life!

But of course, I know there are people who have a hard time just accepting it like that, so here are some fun ways you can use to revision!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Writing;

You can write in a diary, notebook, list, both digital and physical, how your attempts at void went, what you assumed in them, if you want you can even put dates to make it seem more "realistic", and then whenever you need validation, read it!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Visualization;

In this one you will use your imagination, if you are the kind of person who loves to fanficte, prepare the playlist (or not), close your eyes, relax and visualize yourself waking up from all your attempts at success in the void, with everything you manifested in the form of a "test"!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Affirmation; If you are a more "minimalist" person, then this is for you, create small affirmations, which imply with the attempts to the void, for example "I entered the void as a test and when I woke up from the state there was my brand new iPhone 15 , it really works"!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ the original thread!

[recklesssezon]

𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗶

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | aitana bonmati x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | aitana can't stop thinking about you

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | none

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | this been sitting in my drafts for months hehe

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Aitana met you.

Two weeks stuck in a limbo, wishing to see you again. In passing years, confidence had become Aitana’s best friend. Consistent wins and titles built Aitana’s reign in the football world, which eventually extended to her personal life. Aitana felt untouchable. All her blood, sweat, and tears led her to this point, and she wasn’t gonna stop now. 

Aitana knew she’s one of the best players of the generation, playing for the best club in Spain, and if she was being a hundred percent honest, Europe. She’s aware of the impact she has endlessly made in the community each year. It wasn’t ego talking but a simple fact to be acknowledged. 

What Aitana didn’t realize is that her status and image could only get her so far. The world doesn’t excuse star athletes from it's desire to hurt. Before you, Aitana loved the world, and in return, they loved her. But, when she laid eyes on you, Aitana was instantly a goner. When your figure shrinked in size as you walked on, she slowly began to despise the very thing that loved her. 

You barged into her perfect world with your hot Brazilian accent and beautiful smile. Who wouldn’t fall for you? 

No one. A simple answer Aitana believed. 

She just wished that when she fell, you would have caught her. Instead, you let her fall continuously into the void that you created with your absence, and Aitana hated it. You demolished her world, a world centered around football only to be destroyed so easily by a charming smile. Dumbfounded, Aitana spent days putting her picture-perfect world back together brick by brick.

For once in her life, Aitana felt pathetic. A familiar yet unfamiliar emotion aching in her chest. 

In her youth, Aitana understood it. After each loss, she didn’t feel worthy, she didn’t feel like the great soccer player she strived to be. Aitana felt pathic, so yes the emotion was familiar to her. But, unfamiliar because Aitana didn’t lose a game that day, no, she just let go of the one person that sparked the wick in her soul. 

Aitana never felt a spark with someone before, the spark that many described as fireworks when they met the one. As sad as it is, Aitana never experienced fireworks. She summed it up to the fact that she was busy with football, too busy building her career to feel those sparks. 

Time went on, and so did Aitana’s hidden search for those fireworks. She eventually became immune to the romance surrounding her, couples left and right displaying their love that consisted of hand holding, hugs, and kisses…the list goes on. Maybe once or twice out of the year, Aitana wished to find someone to love, but no shooting stars were granted.

Year after year, Aitana slowly became content with her lack of romance…until that day on the beach. 

Aitana remembers that day so bitterly yet so fondly, the team had just finished up their time in the ocean. Favoring their time left with the sun before it completely set. She recalls being at peace. The breeze blew cool air against her warm skin, a still state Aitana hoped she had more often. And then you came along, fresh out the water, surfboard in arm. Effortlessly, you exposed Aitana to a new adrenaline. 

One she didn’t know existed and then when you waved at her, Aitana panicked. This, she liked a lot less, clueless to why she felt such a thing. Cool, calm and collected Aitana Bonmati panicking over a girl waving at her, how gay of her. She can still feel the internal embarrassment coursing through her body. 

When you spoke, Aitana believed she entered paradise. You possibly gave her the best chat she’s ever had. Your heavy Brazilian accent was music to her ears. Your rolled r’s nearly had Aitana on her knees. You knew how to keep a conversation going, the lightness and flow lifted weight off Aitana’s chest. The freedom to speak without care was new to her and she loved it. You were interested in what she had to say, focusing on her like she was the most important person in the world. 

The easy smile you had when she started to ramble and the twitch of your eyebrow when you found something amusing, if this is what people felt when they were in love, Aitana understood the addiction. You made her heart beat to cupid’s song, a rhythm that stuck to Aitana everytime she thought of you. 

And it was cute until she found sad songs to sync her heart to. Her attempts to hide her feelings sucked, the team immediately noticed her shift in behavior. Not only was she actively restored to brooding, small ques of isolation and a long heartbreak playlist were following factors. They’ve never seen Aitana so emotionally impacted by someone, the Great Aitana Bonmati wallows in misery over a girl, never thought they’ll see the day. 

“Her first lesbian heartbreak, the final step to her slut phase.”

Patri groaned, rubbing the back of her head where Frido slapped her. The team was on water break and instead of sitting with the others, Aitana sat at the edge, airpods blasting James Arthur.

Mapi sighed, yanking out her airpod, wrapping an arm around Aitana’s shoulder. “It’s okay, mi amiga. There are plenty of other women in the sea. We just need to get you in the right space to find them. How about we hit that nightclub by-” Cut off by a cleared throat, Mapi smiled innocently at Ingrid. The Norwegian removed her girlfriend from her dear friend, taking the prior spot for herself. 

“Don’t pay attention to her. You don’t need to move on so fast, just go at your own pace.” 

Mapi threw her arms out in offense, it wasn't just her who wanted Aitana to enter her lesbian spree. Cata, Patri, Pina, Misa, and even Jenni, who was all the way in Mexico, wanted to break Aitana out of her shell and right into someone’s sheets. 

It was a daring plan that they created, too much riding on it if it got leaked. The amount of trouble they’d get in for messing with precious Tana was undoubtedly scary. Nonetheless, they got to work. Patri and Cata signed her up for dating apps, swiping left and right to find girls who looked similar to you. 

Jenni was assigned to find potential matches in Mexico which wasn't exactly hard but Mapi kept rejecting them on Aitana’s behalf when they looked nowhere near you. Misa had a hometown friend that shared the same color hair and eyes as you but Aitana quickly shut it down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Each rejection and failure, they tried harder, determined to win their friend’s heart.

Aitana grew annoyed at their foolishness, Exhibit A.

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'm sure it will be. But, I want no part of it."

"Yes, you do. Trust me, right now you're experiencing your first girl heartbreak and its shitty. But, to get over someone is to get under someone. Now, what about her?”

Aitana glared at Mapi, eyes staring down at her friend, resisting the urge to push the phone that was shoved in her face. “I said no. So, get that phone out of my face before it ends across the field. Leave me alone before I tell Ingrid.” 

Mapi's jaw dropped, holding her phone tight to her chest. “That’s not fair!” She exclaimed, “We’re trying to help! Misa brought her friend to the city so you can meet her but you locked yourself at Keira’s which was really rude by the way! She was excited to meet you!” 

Aitana clenched her jaw, turning her back to Mapi to continue kicking penalties. Jana giggled, patting a pouting Mapi on the back. “She doesn't care for them because they're Spanish. She wants a little Brazilian instead.” Aitana's head snapped to Jana, the young girl cowdered behind Mapi at the fierce glare.

“Who told you that?”

Jana peeked out from Mapi’s shoulder, “Patri might've said something about an accent.” Patri said more than Jana claimed, she knew it, Mapi knew it, even Jana herself knew that Aitana wasn't buying her white lie. 

Mapi gasped, shaking Aitana in excitement. “You want a Brazilian?! Why didn't you say so, we can book a flight right now and grab the nearest one when we get off." Aitana stared at her friend eye-wide, Jana not too far off. Both looked at Mapi as if she lost her damn mind. 

“You want to kidnap someone?” Jana asked in disbelief, was it ever that serious? 

Mapi wagged her finger in the air, “No, I said grab. That’s different from kidnapping.” Jana shook her head, “I don’t think it is if they don’t go willingly.”

Mapi threw her arms to the side, almost smacking Aitana in the face. “Why wouldn't they come willingly? We show them Aitana and they’ll be dogs in heat wanting to meet her. I mean have you seen this face?” Mapi grabbed Aitana’s jaw in her hand, squishing the midfielder’s cheeks. “It’s so cute!” Mapi cooed, her baby voice in full effect. Aitana shoved the older girl away, sending a heavy glare for the mockery. 

“I’ll end you.” 

Aitana threatened, Mapi scoffed, not feeling the slightest worry. Aitana wasn’t a vengeful woman, she was calm and collected more than anything. 

“I’d like to see you try.” Mapi cockily said, calling Aitana’s bluff. Within a second, Aitana stocked up on Mapi, yanking the phone out of her hand before launching it across the field. “You bitch!” Mapi yelled, running after her precious phone, praying that it wasn’t broken. 

Aitana turned her back to Mapi’s slouching figure, pointing a finger at Jana. “You keep messing with me, you’re next.” Jana nodded rapidly, eyes snapping to Mapi as she cried dramatically over her phone. Aitana walked off leaving her two friends to deal with the mess they made. 

“And I’m telling Ingrid!”

“We’re not flying all the way to Brazil just for you to set me up with a random stranger.” Patri just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. The more the others knew, the more they pressed. Aitana didn’t want that, it was frustrating enough to deal with her own emotions but to have more people hound you for it was just as infuriating.

She didn't want anyone that wasn’t you, she didn’t care for the girls in Spain and she definitely didn’t care for some random girls in Brazil. She just wanted you and that’s all she’ll ever want. 

Aitana didn’t expect anyone to understand. Heck she didn’t understand it herself. The very first person she fell for, someone she couldn’t have known for no more than an hour, pained her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Her mind imagined scenarios of what could have been if you lived in Spain, if she found loopholes to see the relationship working out. It drained Aitana mentally, all these what ifs. And to show up at work or hang out to be constantly tested fueled her anger. 

She felt like a laughing stock. For the team to know that someone tugged her heart strings was humiliating, double the amount due to the evident impact it had on her. Every woman introduced to her by the helping hand of Mapi, Patri, whoever was a few, pushes away from tipping the iceberg. 

To the rest of the team, they knew very well that Aitana was bound to snap. She’s been teased relentlessly for weeks, they wouldn’t be surprised if Aitana became a loose cannon by the end of the month. 

Aitana sat in her cubby, undressing herself from all the sweat that lingered on her clothes. Patri hopped over, nudging Aitana who ignored her. Patri smiled nonetheless, leaning closer to her, whispering, “I heard what you did with Mapi’s phone. Did she tell you about the match you made on-” Aitana threw her boots into her cubby, whipping around to come face to face with Patri. 

The talking instantly ceased in the locker room, the sound of boots banging against metal gained rapid attention. The smile on Patri’s lips slowly faded away, the tension in Aitana’s face vanished any playfulness in her bones. “If you heard about that then you should’ve heard what I told her. Leave me alone, quit bringing up random girls for me to date. I don’t want them and I don't want you or anyone else meddling with my life!” 

Seeing that Aitana was blowing up, Mapi came over to try to do some damage control. “Hey, we’re just trying to help you get over that girl. You were so upset about her leaving we just wanted to help.” Despite the softness and genuine intention, that didn’t do anything to rid the annoyance and anger building up.

“Well don't! How many times did I ask you to stop?! And you didn’t?! You keep making fun of me! I’m sick of it!” 

Alexia quickly interfered, placing a hand on Aitana beating chest giving the younger girl a soft look. “Why don’t you head home and get some rest. I’ll handle this.” She assured, Aitana snatched her bag off the floor and stomped out the room, giving up the fight before it became physical. The doors slammed loudly against the wall with the force Aitana used. 

Alexia spun on her heels, hands on her lips as she glared at Mapi. “This needs to stop. It’s gone on for way too long. I mean it, Patri delete that app off your phone. I know you still have it. Mapi quit trying to set her up with people she doesn’t want to meet. And anyone else involved quit the shit before you’re running laps before practice for the entire season.” 

Alexia made it a mission to make eye contact with the four who were involved, the other two she couldn’t reach due to one being in Madrid and the other in Mexico but she’ll be sure to check them when nationals come. “Apologize to her. Buy her flowers, clean her apartment, I don’t care just make it up to her, Jonatan has a potential player visiting and we need to make a good impression as a team. Understand?” 

Various answers were said, all pleasing to Alexia to what she wanted to hear. “Good. Patri, Pina, and Mapi starting tomorrow you’ll be running laps until you apologize. And Cata, you’ll be in goal for Aitana’s balls tomorrow, better hope she’s cooled off by then.” The four protested but Alexia didn’t bother to stay to hear it. 

Keira winced at the slammed door, the blonde went by to pick up Aitana for their usual carpool and by the looks of it, yesterday’s mood still lingered. Aitana refused to visit their usual cafe after Pina exposed Aitana’s loneliness to one of the barista’s hoping to score Aitana an unwanted date. She even refused to listen to their morning playlist which always gets them in a peaceful mindset for the day. 

The ride was awkwardly silent, Keira respected Aitana’s need for silence but it killed her the entire time. As soon as the car stopped, Aitana wasted no time rushing out the car, Keira quickly caught up expecting Aitana to be more dragged with her movements to hold off seeing the team.

“Going a bit too fast for me, Tana. Mind slowing down a bit.” The blonde chucked but Aitana made no indication that she was listening, noticing Aitana lost in her thoughts Keira stood in front of her primarily stopping Aitana in her tracks. 

“Still bugged out from yesterday? Don’t worry, Alexia had a talk with the team after you left. They’re very sorry about their actions.” 

Aitana blinked, “Let’s just get to training.” She left it at that, leaving Keira behind. As much Aitana wanted to act like nothing had happened in the past weeks, the brewing irritation and embarrassment had risen to a boiling point that wasn’t going to cool soon. So unfortunately for the girls, they were going to be on the receiving end of Aitana’s fury for the next following days. 

Aitana pushed the doors open to the locker room, high energy today as loud chatter came from the walls. Time stopped for Aitana, her eyes caught onto the person standing in the middle of the room as if it's the norm. Talking to her teammates with a huge smile. How were you here? Why were you here? Millions of questions ran through Aitana's mind and none could she work out an answer to. 

Aitana didn’t realize that you began making way towards her, even as her eyes followed you as you navigated through the room like you've been here before. You stood right in front of her, except there was no sun blinding her, all she had was the ceiling light, a very dim light.

You had a stupid smile on your face, happiness filled your heart to its content. You counted down the remaining days to return to Barca, to see Aitana after your first encounter it made all the move to Spain more exciting. 

“Hi, Aitana.” 

Words breathless, your heart pumping to cupid’s song made it hard to catch your breath. A beat skipped and so did Aitana, well, more like bolted out the door leaving you standing stupidly in the middle of the room.

[jaggedamethyst]

boy savor ⏳✨

ekko (arcane) x f!reader

content: ekko using time...to his advantage

18+ minors dni, smut, porn w/slight plot, edging, soft, (just trust me ik they sound different lmao), oral (f!receiving), complicated/ unlabeled relationship, angst, mentions of death, not proofread

notes: i am a timebomb truther but this is set after the whole ordeal so literally months if not a year or more after the finale...and no the title isn't spelled wrong just read it.

main master list

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You and Ekko found each other after everything. He’d lost his friend—and something more—when Jinx disappeared. Ekko had remained steadfast; she wasn’t dead, couldn’t be. You would nod, affirming him. You understood what others might deem delusion—and empathized with the desire to have someone be alive. 

For you, it was your dad. Like many others you were sent away—forced to join the herds of people who piled up to leave town. This came, of course, in spite of what you wanted. If it was up to you, you’d have stayed. You would’ve died alongside your father. Instead, you were left to wonder if he even actually was gone. With a body never actually being found it was hard to not think other wise.

The relationship between you and Ekko went unlabeled and remains that way. You both could agree, though, that in the midst of the pain the presence of each other filled a void that would persist for years. Deep down you knew that if Jinx did ever show up he would leave without a second thought. But the gentleness he held with you was enough to make the thought a throwaway. 

In a single word, you would quickly describe Ekko as tender. When you were together the just barely there touches and faint grasps made you feel light—as if you could escape him at any moment. Freeing yourself was the last thing on your mind, though. You’d stay with him, like this, in any timeline…forever.

“Can I try something?” Ekko spoke between breaths, lips kissing on the inner skin of your thighs. He’d paused his devouring of you to glance up, motioning next to him. 

“Uh huh,” you were close. The question hadn’t made a difference to you. You didn’t bother to look in the direction he waved. Whatever he did, whatever he intended to try—you would still unravel in a few seconds. If there was no other proof, the heat emanating off of you would be enough. 

A second later, the sound of a clattering filled the room. The fire in you tamed a bit and Ekko had his lips wrapped around your clit again. Just as he had before speaking up. You panted, feeling his breath fanning over you. He continued to move his entire mouth into you, sucking and moving up and down with an urgency that had your legs twisting erratically. 

Ekko slipped in two fingers, then, pulsing them in and out of you at a steady tempo that made you whine. The sound was melodic for him—it made him want to do this a thousand more times, and he would. 

“Can I try something?”

Without thinking, you replied, “Uh huh.”

The phrase felt sticky on your tongue, as if it had left a residue lingering there. You blinked, looking beside you as Ekko fumbled for the counter. He moved up your body, kissing over your chest as he pulled on a string. 

In an incomprehensible moment of time, his lips found you again. Ekko moved against you and you writhed as a result. He felt your body lift and looked up through his lashes to examine you. A smirk found the space between you, a sheen over the bottom half of his face. 

“What?” He asked as he moved a finger to push your clit up and down. The steady and slow pressure was one you loved—and it almost always had you fumbling for him like you were now. The heat found you, again, and gave you pause. A hand found the top of his head grasping at his hair for relief, the fleeting feeling of déjà vu causing you to yank his head up. 

“Ekko-“ 

“You said I could try something…”

Creating a tool to wield time in the palm of his hand was single handedly the pinnacle of Ekko’s existence and nothing else came close to it. Nothing except his ability to use it to his advantage. He loved the sensation of you pulsing against him, the inadvertent response to his body on yours. He could bask in the sound of your quickened breaths, survive off of the feeling of your fingers clawing at him. Every movement that even resembled you finishing for him made him desire the sight, feeling, and sound even more. 

He tapped around, finding the string much easier this time. He had, after all, done this before. Ekko’s fingers twisted and nudged the dial back an additional few seconds. You watched the world seem to warp around you and your sentience of the current moment seem to slip away. 

The sound of his name teetered on your lips again, dragging at the feel of your climax reverting back to being just on the edge of explosion. 

He was still so delicate with you, savoring every moment he had with you. He spoke quickly, “You okay?” 

You sucked in your own lips, stifling a moan. “Mhm.” 

“Knew you could handle it.” 

You nodded, not speaking but revelling in the feeling—inching on the precipice of finally finishing, again that was. 

Ekko had never done this before, tortured you so sweetly in this way. Going back every few seconds added a weight to you that was surprisingly comforting. Reverting to a moment in time, just before he had you fully undone, welled tears in your eyes. 

He licked and slurped you, his fingers again pushing in and out of you. Ekko let his other hand snake up and kneed into the warmth of your stomach. Your lower half began to match his rhythm, swirling up and around in circles. 

“I’m,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m gonna-“ 

He heard the slurred words. The moist sound of your words was an indicator, too. Every detail about you was intoxicating. He couldn’t think too far ahead, just for now. 

Ekko became more fervent, speeding up every pace he’d found. You could no longer keep up; you let the feeling of him guide you. The once slowly building embers snapped in you and jolted your entire body in half—your spine finding its way away from the mattress. 

He crawled up, kissing your lips sweetly until he’d lost breath…and when he did, a crank filled the room. He’d kiss you forever if he could—and with time at the palm of his hands, he’d make sure this feeling would last a lifetime.