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respectable-username · 3 years

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🔐 Why You (Probably) Don't Need A VPN

A rant by a software engineer sick of VPN ads from her favourite YouTubers

TL;DR:

Here are some legitimate reasons the average internet user might want to use a VPN:

To connect to their company's internal network

To bypass the Great Firewall of China (or other types of website blocks at country or organisation level)

To watch Netflix etc as if you were in another country

Here are absolutely rubbish reasons to use a VPN:

Privacy

And today, I'll tell you why.

Hang on, won't a VPN stop hackers from stealing my passwords?

I mean, it does encrypt the web traffic coming from your device.

You know what else encrypts web traffic coming from your device? Your browser.

Yes, in the year 2021, pretty much all websites on the internet are accessed over HTTPS. The "S" stands for "secure", as in "your request will be securely encrypted". If your browser is using HTTPS, nobody can capture the data you're sending over the internet. More detail in the "I like too much detail" section at the bottom of this post.

It's very easy to check if you are using HTTPS by looking at your URL bar. In most browsers, it will have a lock on it if secure:

(From top left to bottom right: Chrome on iOS, Safari on iOS, Chrome on Windows, Edge on Windows, Firefox on Windows, and Safari on Mac. Screenshots reflect the UI at the time this post was written. Oh gosh this has taken over 4 hours to write.)

But isn't moar encryption better? What if somebody breaks HTTPS?

For starters, nobody's breaking your HTTPS, and there isn't any benefit from double encrypting. This is because of the maths behind encryption/decryption!

Encryption works kinda like a lock and key, except the lock is maths and the key is a special number only known to the person allowed to unlock the information.

The important thing is, without the key, all the locked data looks like complete and utter garbage. Completely unusable. Barely distinguishable from random noise. There's absolutely no way to tell what the original data was.

The other important thing is that the key is nearly unguessable. As in, with current technology, will generally take more than the lifetime of the universe to guess by chance. And when technology gets faster, we just make the numbers bigger again until they're once again secure.

For any major website you use, they will use a strong encryption algorithm (ie lock) with big numbers so your keys will be strong enough to withstand an attack. This means your data is safe as long as that lock icon is in your URL bar.

A VPN will not make the existing garble any more garbled. The extra $10/month or whatever you're paying for does not buy you any extra protection.

If you want to know more about how encryption and HTTPS in particular work, see the "I like too much detail" section at the end of this post.

Something something viruses

How's a VPN going to stop viruses? It controls the path your internet traffic takes, not the content that gets sent down that path. I guess it could block some known virus-giving hosts? But if it's known to the VPN provider, it's probably also known to the built-in antivirus on your computer who can block it for you.

(Oh yeah, 3rd party antivirus is another thing that's not worth paying for these days. Microsoft's built-in Windows Defender is as good as the third party options, and something something Macs don't get viruses easily because of how they're architected.)

Honestly though, keep your software up to date, don't click on anything suspicious, don't open files from sources you don't trust, and you'll be right most of the time.

And keep your software up to date. Then update your software. Hey, did I mention keeping your stuff updated? Update! Now! It only takes a few minutes. Please update to the latest version of your software I'm begging you. It's the number 1 way to protect yourself from viruses and other malware. Most major software attacks could have been prevented if people just updated their damn software!

But my ISP is spying on me!

Ok, it is true that there are TWO bits of data that HTTPS can't and won't hide. Those are:

The source of a request (your IP)

What website that request is going to (the website's IP)

These are the bits of information that routers use to know where to send your data, so of course they can't be hidden as the data is moving across the internet. And people can see that information very easily if they want to.

Note: this will show which website you're going to, but not which page you're looking at, and not the content of that page. So it will show that you were on Tumblr, but will not show anyone that you're still reading SuperWhoLock content in 2021.

It's this source/destination information that VPNs hide, which is why they can be used to bypass website blocks and region locks.

By using a VPN, those sniffing traffic on your side of the VPN will just show you connecting to the VPN, not the actual website you want. That means you can read AO3 at work/school without your boss/teachers knowing (unless they look over your shoulder of course).

As for those sniffing on the websites end, including the website itself, they will see the VPN as the source of the connection, not you. So if you're in the US and using a VPN node in the UK, Netflix will see you as being in the UK and show you their British library rather than the American one.

If this is what you're using a VPN for and you think the price is fair, then by all means keep doing it! This is 100% what VPNs are good for.

HOWEVER, and this is a big "however", if it's your ISP you're trying to hide your internet traffic from, then you will want to think twice before using a VPN.

Let me put it this way. Without a VPN, your ISP knows every website you connect to and when. With a VPN, do you know who has that exact same information? The VPN provider. Sure, many claim to not keep logs, but do you really trust the people asking for you to send them all your data for a fee to not just turn around and sell your data on for a profit, or worse?

In effect, you're trading one snooper for another. One snooper is heavily regulated, in many jurisdictions must obey net neutrality, and is already getting a big fee from you regardless of where you browse. The other isn't. Again, it's all a matter of who you trust more.

For me personally, I trust my ISP more than a random VPN provider, if for no other reason than my ISP is an old enough company with enough inertia and incompetence that I don't think they could organise to sell my data even if they wanted to. And with the amount of money I'm paying them per month, they've only got everything to lose if they broke consumer trust by on-selling that data. So yeah, I trust my ISP more with my privacy than the random VPN company.

But my VPN comes with a password manager!

Password managers are great. I 100% recommend you use a password manager. If there's one thing you could do right now to improve your security (other than updating your software, speaking of, have you updated yet?), it's getting and using a password manager.

Password managers also come for free.

I'm currently using LastPass free, but am planning to switch after they did a bad capitalism and only let their free accounts access either laptop or mobile but not both now. I personally am planning to move to Bitwarden on friends' recommendation since it's not only free but open source and available across devices. I also have friends who use passbolt and enjoy it, which is also free and open source, but it's also a bit DIY to set up. Great if you like tinkering though! And there are probably many other options out there if you do a bit of googling.

So, yeah, please use a password manager, but don't pay for it unless you actually have use for the extra features.

No I really need to hide my internet activity from everybody for reasons

In this case, you're probably looking for TOR. TOR is basically untraceable. It's also a terrible user experience for the most part because of this, so I'd only recommend it if you need it, such as if you're trying to escape the Great Firewall. But please don't use it for Bad Crimes. I am not to be held liable for any crime committed using information learned from this post.

Further reading viewing

If you want to know more about why you don't need a VPN, see Tom Scott's amazing video on the subject. It's honestly a great intro for beginners.

I like too much detail

Ahhh, so you're the type of person who doesn't get turned off by long explanations I see. Well, here's a little more info on the stuff I oversimplified in the main post about encryption. Uhh, words get bigger and more jargony in this section.

So first oversimplification: the assumption that all web traffic is either HTTP or HTTPS. This isn't exactly true. There are many other application layer internet standards out there, such as ssh, ftp, websockets, and all the proprietary standards certain companies use for stuff such as streaming and video conferencing. Some of these are secure, using TLS or some other security algorithm under the hood, and some of them aren't.

But most of the web requests you care about are HTTP/HTTPS calls. As for the rest, if they come from a company of a decent size that hasn't been hacked off the face of the planet already, they're probably also secure. In other words, you don't need to worry about it.

Next, we've already said that encryption works as a lock and a key, where the lock is a maths formula and the key is a number. But how do we get that key to lock and unlock the data?

Well, to answer that, we first need to talk about the two different types of encryption: symmetric and asymmetric. Symmetric encryption such as AES uses the same key to both encrypt and decrypt data, whereas asymmetric encryption such as RSA uses a different key to encode and decode.

For the sake of my writing, we're going to call the person encrypting Alice, the person decrypting Bob, and the eavesdropper trying to break our communications Eve from now on. These are standard names in crypto FYI. Also, crypto is short for cryptography not cryptocurrencies. Get your Bitcoin and Etherium outta here!

Sorry if things start getting incoherent. I'm tired. It's after 1am now.

So first, how do we get the key from symmetric crypto? This is probably the easier place to start. Well, you need a number, any number of sufficient size, that both Alice and Bob know. There are many ways you could share this number. They could decide it when they meet in person. They could send it to each other using carrier pigeons. Or they could radio it via morse code. But those aren't convenient, and somebody could intercept the number and use it to read all their messages.

So what we use instead is a super clever algorithm called Diffie-Hellman, which uses maths and, in particular, the fact it's really hard to factor large numbers (probably NP Hard to be specific, but there's no actual proof of that). The Wikipedia page for this is surprisingly easy to read, so I'll just direct you there to read all about it because I've been writing for too long. This algorithm allows Alice and Bob to agree on a secret number, despite Eve being able to read everything they send each other.

Now Alice and Bob have this secret number key, they can talk in private. Alice puts her message and the key into the encryption algorithm and out pops what looks like a load of garbage. She can then send this garbage to Bob without worrying about Eve being able to read it. Bob can then put the garbage and the key into the decryption algorithm to undo the scrambling and get the original message out telling him where the good donuts are. Voila, they're done!

But how does Alice know that she's sending her message to Bob and not Eve? Eve could pretend to be Bob so that Alice does the Diffie-Hellman dance with her instead and sends her the secret location of the good donuts instead.

This is where asymmetric crypto comes in! This is the one with private and public keys, and the one that uses prime numbers.

I'm not 100% across the maths on this one TBH, but it has something to do with group theory. Anyway, just like Diffie-Hellman, it relies on the fact that prime factorisation is hard, and so it does some magic with semi-primes, ie numbers with only 2 prime factors other than 1. Google it if you want to know more. I kinda zoned out of this bit in my security courses. Maths hard

But the effect of that maths is easier to explain: things that are encoded with one of the keys can only be decoded with the other key. This means that one of those keys can be well-known to the public and the other is known only to the person it belongs to.

If Alice wants to send a message to Bob and just Bob, no Eve allowed, she can first look up Bob's public key and encrypt a beginning message with that. Once Bob receives the message, he can decrypt it with his private key and read the contents. Eve can't read the contents though because, even though she has Bob's public key, she doesn't know his private key.

This public key information is what the lock in your browser is all about BTW. It's saying that the website is legit based on the public key they provide.

So why do we need symmetric crypto when we have asymmetric crypto? Seems a lot less hassle to exchange keys with asymmetric crypto.

Well, it's because asymmetric crypto is slooooow. So, in TLS, the security algorithm that puts the "S" in "HTTPS", asymmetric RSA is used to establish the initial connection and figure out what symmetric key to use, and then the rest of the session uses AES symmetric encryption using the agreed secret key.

And there you have it! Crypto in slightly-less-short-but-still-high-enough-level-that-I-hope-you-understand.

Just realised how long this section is. Well, I did call it "too much detail" for a reason.

Now, next question is what exactly is and isn't encrypted using HTTPS.

Well, as I said earlier, it's basically just the source IP:port and the destination IP:port. In fact, this information is actually communicated on the logical layer below the application layer HTTPS is on, known as the transport layer. Again, as I said before, you can't really encrypt this unless you don't want your data to reach the place you want at all.

Also, DNS is unencrypted. A DNS request is a request that turns a domain name, such as tumblr.com, into an IP address, by asking a special server called a Domain Name Server where to find the website you're looking for. A DNS request is made before an HTTP(S) request. Anyone who can read your internet traffic can therefore tell you wanted to go to Tumblr.

But importantly, this only shows the domain name, not the full URL. The rest of the URL, the part after the third slash (the first two slashes being part of http://), is stuff that's interpreted by the server itself and so isn't needed during transport. Therefore, it encrypted and completely unreadable, just like all the content on your page.

I was going to show a Wireshark scan of a web request using HTTP and HTTPS to show you the difference, but this has taken long enough to write as it is, so sorry!

I could probably write more, but it's 1:30am and I'm sleepy. I hope you found some of this interesting and think twice before purchasing a VPN subscription. Again, there are legit good uses for a VPN, but they're not the ones primarily being advertised in VPN ads. It's the fact that VPN ads rely so heavily on false advertising that really grinds my gears and made me want to do this rant. It's especially bad when it comes from somebody I'd think of as technologically competent (naming no names here, but if you've worked in tech and still promote VPNs as a way to keep data safe... no). Feel free to ask questions if you want and hopefully I'll get around to answering any that I feel I know enough to answer.

Nighty night Tumblr. Please update your software. And use a (free) password manager. And enable two factor authentication on all your accounts. But mostly just update your software.

#technology #vpn #things you don't need #things that piss me off #res rambles #res writes

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hotcat37 · 2 years

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Things abt Trailer park boys I dislike. Disclaimer that it's completely okay to disagree with these takes! I'll make a counterpost to this as well with things I like abt the show

-Susan being outright abusive to Ricky and no one stepping in or mentioning it. They could've written something meaningful abt Ricky's need for a partner in his life and that blinding him to toxic relationships but instead it's just played for laughs

-the lack of T screentime 💔

-Bubbles never getting a love interest (to clarify I don't think any character needs a love interest, but it seems unfair that Ricky and Julian have multiple romances and Bubbles is the only one in the trio who doesn't. I personally see Bubbles as prioritizing his friendships much more over romance but it's very specific that he's the only one who has absolutely zero chicks interested in him)

-the artstyle of the animated series I'm sorry like it's not ugly but it's just so bland and uninteresting. I would've loved to see an Ed Edd n Eddy type artstyle or just something more stylized and dynamic

-Julian being continuously sexually harassed and it being, predictably, played for laughs. Like in the early seasons Sexian jokes and Lahey being like "you sexy shitbird....." are really funny but then it just becomes fucked up. Like the scene (can't remember which season) where Lahey forces Julian to let him kiss him on the lips so he'll sign the contract for the park made my skin crawl (he doesn't actually end up kissing him but it was super fcked up that Julian looked massively uncomfortable and no one showed him any sympathy)

-Jacob's character became super bland and was dumbed down so much in the Netflix seasons. He was such an interesting character to me in season 7 because we saw him have an actually fleshed out personality and his admiration for Julian was super cute. We don't see any of that post season 7 and it's just so frustrating because I rlly felt like he was a good addition to the cast

-on the topic of Jacob his relationship with Trinity came out of nowhere. Not to mention the weird age gap between them no one in the show seems to be bothered by.

-the awful celebrity cameos 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ They added absolutely nothing valuable or funny to the show

-the main trio getting treated like absolute garbage by the Swearnet crew during the Out Of The Park series. They're constantly put in uncomfortable situations for laughs, are starving and dehydrated half of the time and absolutely none of their efforts ever pay off. It was funny at first but then at some point it just became "watch these men get tortured by an evil company with no consequences for 10 episodes straight" and just,,nah. I can't even say I blame the boys for acting out of character and acting like dicks

-Donna's entire character....yikes 😬 I think the only way a trans character in Trailer Park Boys would work is if it was just mentioned and no one rlly cares abt it (like Randy and Lahey coming out as gay during that one episode. Everybody already knows and knows abt their sex shenanigans but they don't give a shit because they hate them anyways lmao)

-Julian's characterization specifically in the Netflix series. Like y'all know I fcking love Julian but I hate how extremely selfish and greedy he becomes. In the Out Of The Park series he never wants to try anything, while Season 1-7 Julian would absolutely sing karaoke with the boys if it means getting paid. He's done much much worse things for money than just singing Stayin' Alive lmfao. And there's also a moment in the later seasons where Sarah asks to stay in Julian's trailer (I can't really remember why?) and she literally asked to stay I think for like a night or two and he was immediately like "no👺👺" until she said she'd compensate him with something.

Like my man, she's asking to sleep on ur couch for 2 days max what is the issue here 🤦‍♀️ I know Sarah can be a bitch to him sometimes but he gives her the same energy and they've known each other for decades.

-the boys generally just becoming worse people as the show progresses. They've never been even close to Saints but they were regretful of their actions and did what they could to make up for their wrongdoings. Nowadays they do progressively terrible things, apologize, but then do the exact same thing again the next episode.

That's what I can think of rn but lemme know what u guys don't like much abt the show I'm curious

#Trailer park boys #Tpb #julian tpb #ricky lafleur #tpb bubbles

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1kook · 4 years

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disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jjk♡#jeon jungkook #mine

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the wrong time to flirt ~ pete davidson

word count: 1266

request?: yes!

“Can you write a Pete Davidson fluff. A medical intern goes to SNL and Pete sees her right away and takes her one a date.”

description: with new restrictions in place due to an ongoing pandemic comes the need for medical assistance on set, including a pretty medical intern that catches his attention

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of the current pandemic

masterlist

Pete was beyond excited to get back to work on SNL. Besides his Netflix special being released, the lockdown was the longest and most boring time of his life. He was itching to get back to work, and back to some semblance of normalcy.

Of course, with working during a pandemic came some new safety protocols. When not on set or filming, the actors were to keep a mask on, as were the crewmates at all times. If anyone had even one symptom they were forbidden from coming in, and everyone was made to take a test for the virus once a week.

It was a tiring process, and Pete had o admit that it was taking the fun out of going to work.

Luckily for him, on one particular day, he was paired with a new medical intern for his daily medical run through. She couldn’t be much older than him, if she was even close to his age at all, and she was absolutely gorgeous even with her mask on.

“Wow,” he blurted as he approached her. She raised an eyebrow at him and Pete could see her eyes crinkle from a smirk. “Sorry, I meant to say hello, I haven’t seen you before.

“Oh yeah, that sounds so close to what you actually said,” she teased. “I’m the new intern. Today is my first day going through the pandemic guidelines on my own.”

“Well, it’s my lucky day then.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes before looking back down at the clipboard in her hands. “Name?”

Pete was shocked. “Seriously?”

She looked back up at him, expectantly. “Name?”

He sighed and responded, “Pete Davidson.”

“And your role on the show?”

“Seriously?!”

Pete could see her smile through her mask and her shoulders shake as she giggled. “Okay, okay. The usual questions then: have you been anywhere with an influx of cases? Have you been to any parties or large gatherings? Have you been in contact with anyone who has tested positive?”

“No, no, and I’d surely hope not.”

She made notes on her clipboard before placing it aside and standing from her chair. She motioned for Pete to sit. “Pull your mask down to uncover your nose and tilt your head back slightly.”

Pete mentally groaned. He had totally forgotten it was testing day.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked as he followed her instructions.

The intern raised an eyebrow at him as she pulled on a pair of gloves. “You really think now is a good time to flirt? When I’m about to shove a cotton swab so far up your nose it’s essentially tickling your brain?”

“Not my best idea,” Pete admitted out loud. “But I’ll say anything to relieve the stress I’m feeling right now.”

She took the testing swab in her hand and helped Pete to gently tilt his head back. Even with the glove on, Pete could tell her hands were soft and tender. A small thing, but it was enough to make him feel more comfortable with the situation.

He looked up at her and, for a brief moment, their eyes met. Her hand paused, the swab just inches away from his nose, before she looked back down at her hands again. “We probably shouldn’t be gazing into one another’s eyes when I’m trying to test you.”

Pete sighed and braced himself.

The testing took all of five seconds, but every time he had to do it it felt like years. He winced as she took the swab away and put it in a bag marked with his name on it.

“There you go,” she said, taking her gloves off and throwing them into a nearby garbage. “You are, potentially, virus free. For now anyways. We’ll see tomorrow what your test results say.”

“That’s reassuring,” Pete muttered as he stood from the chair. “Hey, you never told me your name by the way.”

“My name isn’t relevant,” she responded, focusing on sanitizing her hands and cleaning the her work station.

“Of course it is. Obviously I’ll be seeing you every time I come into work, we’ve basically gotten so close already, and I need to know your name if I’m gonna take you out on a date.”

The amused look on the intern’s face returned as she looked up at Pete. “You’re really trying with this, huh?”

“I’m nothing if not persistent.”

She sighed and reached up to adjust his mask so it was covering his nose and mouth again, then sanitized her hands again.

“There’s a few things wrong with your persistence right now, though. For one, you only just me. You barley know me, you don’t even know what I look like under this mask. What if I take this off and I’m absolutely hideous?”

“More of a reason for us to go out on a date. It’ll mean you’re not way out of my league then.”

She tried to hold back her chuckle at this, but also failed. “And two, we’re in a pandemic right now. Dating is not a good idea right now. It’s all sorts of risky, especially with someone who is in the medical field.”

“You say that as if doctors and nurses aren’t the safest people right now,” Pete pointed out. “I’m not going to actually be a bother about this. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I understand your concerns. But if you ever do change your mind, you will be seeing me on a weekly basis. You can tell me at any time.”

Despite wanting to ask her once more, Pete knew it was best to leave her be. He went on to set to get ready for the night, but his mind constantly drifted towards the beautiful intern.

~~~~~~

The familiar applause and music at the end of the night was always a pleasant rush for Pete. A congratulations on a job well done, that used to lead to a massive after party that none of them would remember in the morning. But now, with the pandemic, it led to everyone putting their masks back on and going their separate ways.

While it was still okay to do so, Pete hugged some of his co-stars before putting his mask on to return to his dressing room. As he got there, he noticed a figure leaning against his dressing room door, and the closer he got he realized it was the intern. This time, surprisingly, without a mask.

“Great show,” she said as she approached. “They let me sit in the audience and watch.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he told her. “Are you visiting everyone to congratulate them on a good show?”

“No,” she said. “My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

This also shocked Pete. “It’s nice to officially meet you, (Y/N). Is knowing your name a good sign for me?”

(Y/N) smiled. As he predicted, she was gorgeous even without the mask on.

“It is,” she confirmed. “Tomorrow I’ll be getting the results to your test and, should they come back negative...maybe we could attempt to have a stay at home date.”

Pete returned her bright smile. “Yeah. You know what? That’d be really nice.”

(Y/N) nodded, looking almost relieved at his response. “Okay...okay, great. I’ll call you the minute I get your results.”

“You better. I’ll be anxiously waiting.”

She smiled at him again before putting her mask back on and making her way down the hallway. Pete watched her go until he couldn’t see her anymore, then celebrated briefly to himself.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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troubatrain · 4 years

Text

set it up - a. beauvillier

a/n: i started this idk 9000 years ago with three different hockey boys but i’ve never written for tito and this could be 6k words of absolute garbage but i think you guys will like it?? it was inspired when i watching the Netflix movie Set It Up, which I absolutely love because who doesn’t love a romcom. I wanna thank @nazdaddy for giving it a quick read like halfway through to hype me up you’re a real one!!

You felt sick.

Your feet hurt, your head was pounding and you were absolutely soaked. It started in the morning, waking up late for and having to sacrifice your morning coffee so your boss wouldn’t kill you. Then there was the workday from hell, skipping lunch to work on a project because your boss’s son had a brain the size of a raisin. By the time five rolled around, a storm had sweeped into New York, soaking the city streets on a day when you didn’t have an umbrella on hand. The subway packed, and by the time you’d gotten back to your apartment you were absolutely exhausted. You were looking forward to a night in, a glass of wine and ordering take out.

Then you were met with the sight of a pink scrunchie, sparkling against your door and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Rose was your best friend, and that was the sole reason why you haven’t murdered her yet. You’d lived with Rose since you were freshman in college, randomly paired up as roommates and you got lucky she turned out to be your friend. In all of those years, she’d been with the same guy who she met approximately four hours after you moved into your dorm. Cam was great, until one day he just wasn’t. Rose still didn’t know what happened, but after grieving the longest relationship she’d ever been in for months, she was finally ready to start dating again. Turns out, dating again, was going to ruin your life.

You furrow your eyebrows, rubbing your hand over your eyes and trying to remember if she mentioned having anyone over. You open your phone, remembering how you turned on do not disturb sometime after she sent you her tenth meme of the day while you were working your ass off.

Having Kyle over for dinner - among other things, can you stay out for a bit?

You lean your head back, letting out a small scream in frustration. You hear a laugh behind you, and you turn around to be met by your neighbor. Anthony Beauvillier was an okay neighbor. He was quiet, usually giving you some sort of heads up that he’d been having a party which was rare. You knew he was gone most of the time because of hockey, but you never cared to ask any questions further than that. One thing you did notice about your neighbor, was just how handsome he looked in a suit on the rare occasion you caught him in the elevator.

“You okay?” Anthony asks, turning his head to the side, “Are you locked out?”

“No,” You sigh, debating whether or not you really needed to drop this on him, “Rose has a friend over, and I missed her text to tell me to stay out.”

“But you’re soaked,” Anthony points out, pointing to the water that was dripping off of you, “Come by me.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, I’ll just-” You start to decline his invite, but his eyes were kind while they were staring at you, an amused smile on his face.

“C’mon Y/N, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Anthony smiles, opening up his apartment door and insisting you came in, “And I’m not going to cook all of this for myself.”

Anthony holds up the grocery bags in his hand, soft eyes and a smile to match staring back at you. You nod, taking the invitation inside because it beat sloshing around in your heels, “Thanks Anthony.”

“You can call me Beau if you want,” Anthony shrugs, pointing down the hallway of the apartment that was identical to yours, “My rooms down there take whatever you want.”

Anthony moves around his kitchen, his mind wandering about why he felt compelled to invite her neighbor inside. Really he felt bad, you looked like you were having an awful day and getting sexiled from your own apartment probably would have been enough to break you. Anthony was tired too, his body was sore from a rough practice earlier that day. Not to mention the team was on a five game losing streak and while Anthony knew he could be doing more himself, he knew Mat wasn’t playing up to usual standards either.

Mat was a mess, and it was starting to drive Anthony absolutely crazy. He thought he was in love, a random girl he followed on Instagram who he took out a few times. Mat thought it was something, turns out she thought it was something casual. Now, his usual cocky and charismatic best friend was just a sad shell of himself. Selfishly, Anthony wanted him to get over it because if he did then they’d probably win a few more games and Trotz wouldn’t have them skate until someone threw up.

Then it hit him, the second you walked back into the kitchen with his clothes hanging off your frame while you pulled your hair back an idea came to Anthony’s head. If you wanted peace and quiet, he could give it to you, “Does Rose do this a lot?”

“Lately,” You sigh, sitting at the barstool next to the island, “Her boyfriend broke up with and after she cried for a few months she decided to be single and that’s ruining my life.”

“What if I could help?” Anthony asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t need to let me into your place because Rose is-” You go to tell him no - whatever idea he had couldn’t be a fix all solution for your current problem.

“My teammate Mat, he’s single, and honestly sad, but he does have his own place where Rose can spend all her time…” Anthony suggests, dragging out his last words to give you a minute to think.

“What if they don’t even like each other?” You ask, stating what you thought should be the obvious.

“We’ll just set them up on a few dates, I’ll give Mat advice that you give me and it’ll all work out,” Anthony argues back, “We’re in complete control here.”

“But then it’s not real,” You remind him, that if you told Mat exactly how to date Rose it wouldn’t be Mat dating Rose at all.

“Does it matter?” Anthony asks, “You get a quiet apartment and my team gets a few wins, “What's the harm?”

“The harm is our friend's feelings,” You say, your hands in the air while you continued to talk. You were stopped by a ding on your phone, a text from Rose giving you a fair warning that her friend was staying over. You roll your eyes, “You know what - fine.”

“Really? You’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

***

You didn’t know why Anthony had you meeting him at the coffee shop just a few blocks away from your building, but judging by the all black outfit he was sporting, something told you that it was because he was taking this set up thing too seriously.

“Are we spies now?” You ask, slipping into the chair and crossing your arms, “Because if we are you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m not doing a good job? You’re wearing yellow,” Anthony says, “You could not be any more obvious.”

“Whatever, when’s Mat going to get here?” You ask, grabbing the coffee Anthony had waiting for you.

The plan was simple, Anthony knew that Mat knew who Rose was to some capacity, because Mat had told his friend on more than one occasion about how hot his neighbors were. So, you were both going to force them to actually speak to each other. Anthony suggested just telling them that you were setting them up on a date, but you insisted that if this was going to work they would have to think this happened without the will of the two of you. So you both invited them to the same place, and after you both conveniently miss your plans they would have to run into eachother.

“He should be here soon, I tipped the barista $40 to mix up their coffees and let us watch from their kitchen,” Anthony explains, holding up to his end of the plan, “Which by the way, was way more than I think they would have taken.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be okay,” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you were living with Rose to keep your rent down while Anthony could live alone comfortably, “Shit, I see them.”

You both got up, sneaking into the back where the barista who was working just shook her head at the two of you. You peek out, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Anthony wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back into him, “I swear if you get caught.”

You try to push the thought about how good Anthony smelled, or how nice his arm felt around you while you tried to focus on Rose who just grabbed Mat’s coffee by accident. Mat tells her it’s his, a joke about how familiar she looked following shortly after. Their conversation was brief, and for a minute you thought maybe it wasn’t going to work. Then you saw Mat slip his phone out of his pocket, holding it out for Rose to take.

“Oh my god, it’s working,” You exclaim, Anthony’s hand flying over your mouth immediately. He mumbled something in French, and there was no way you were going to be able to make it out. Anthony’s phone dings, and he pulls it out to show a text from Mat sent promptly after Rose was out of the cafe.

I think I just asked your neighbor out.

Anthony was beaming, pulling his hand off your mouth while you both watched Mat leave the shop, “This date needs to be perfect.”

“It will be as long as you listen to me,” You say, turning around to cross your arms at him, “Because if this is going to work-”

“You almost blew our cover, I’m in charge here,” Anthony scoffs, “You’re like the worst sidekick in the world.”

“You’re the sidekick here.”

“No it’s you, you’re Robin and I’m Batman.”

***

“Here?”

“No.”

“How about this one?”

“God, no she hates seafood.”

You’d been trying to figure out where you were going to set up Mat and Rose’s first date for hours. Every restaurant Anthony mentioned just wasn’t enough, and Mat was dying for some help from his friend. Anthony was frustrated, mostly with you for not just choosing something and calling it a day.

“This is why you’re single, by the way, because these places are just meh,” You argue, pulling his laptop from his hands, “Where’s the romance?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very romantic,” Anthony scoffs, not having any of your shit, “Ask any girl I’ve ever dated.”

“Seems like they’re all gone, wonder why,” You hum, scrolling through the Google search.

“Fine, how about this? He takes her to a show because you said she loves musicals,” Anthony suggests, pulling the laptop from your hands, “After Mat sets up a dinner by his place because he’s got a sick rooftop and if all goes to plan Rose will be there all night.”

You whip your head around to look at the man next to you, a grin on his face because he very well may have nailed it when it came to a first date. It was simple, yet fancy enough to keep Rose interested, “That just might work.”

You kept your mouth closed about why keeping Rose out all night was going to work for you. You had a date with someone you matched with on Hinge who seemed nice enough and the opportunity to take him home at the end of the night didn’t seem like a bad move. You didn’t want to let that information slip to Anthony, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t like him, and you were pretty positive he was only putting up with you because you were both trying to set Mat and Rose up.

“It’s a date then?” Anthony asks, pulling out his phone to give Mat all the details about the date he should be taking his neighbor on. Anthony made it clear to Mat he’d know, despite the fact that before the other night Anthony hadn’t had so much as a conversation with Rose or yourself. However, he had you and you knew Rose better than anyone.

***

You sat across from your date, twirling the glass of wine in your hand while he talked about his family. Ben was nice, and honestly you were enjoying his company. The restaurant was almost perfect, because knowing it made your rejection list for Mat and Rose’s first date location wasn’t something you could shake. Ben had to be oblivious to it, a delighted smile on his face from across you. Your phone rang on the table, and Anthony’s number popped up for the third time that evening. You knew Rose and Mat were well into their date at this point, and you had the night planned so perfectly nothing could possibly go wrong.

“You can take that if you need to,” Ben suggests, a gentle tone to his voice. You nod, feeling a little bad for stepping away from your conversation to answer the call.

“I’m on a date,” You grit out the second you were out of Ben’s earshot, “Someone better be dead Beau.”

“We’re about to be,” Anthony huffs out, “The chef Mat hired canceled and I have all of these ingredients and I know how to cook three things and they aren’t steak.”

“Beau,” You whisper harshly, “Figure. It. Out.”

“Absolutely not, if this tanks you’re coming down with me,” Anthony begs, “Please come to Mat’s and help me.”

So you did. You loved Rose too much to let this blow up in your face because of Anthony’s inability to cook a meal. Ben was understanding, accepting the excuse that you weren’t feeling well and even offering to pay for your cab back home. You declined, because you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had to bail out Anthony.

By the time you finally got to Mat’s, you could hear a string of curses on the other side of the door and the smell of something burning. You walked in and a pan was practically on fire while Anthony turned around frantically.

“Oh my god, move,” You demand, grabbing the pan and turning down the stove, “You really can’t cook anything?”

Anthony was dumbfounded, standing in Mat’s kitchen letting his eyes wander down your bare legs. You looked good and if you weren’t about to chew him out Anthony might have said something. But you were standing in front of him, arms crossed while you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t you sighed, pushing him out of the way and getting to work.

“Make yourself useful and set the damn table,” You demand, pointing a spatula in his direction. This dinner had to be perfect if this was going to work. You relished in the silence, getting to work on the dinner that you were left to save.

“So how was your date?” You hear Anthony’s voice float back into the apartment, and you turn around to give him a dirty look, “Or did I ruin that?”

“You didn’t totally ruin it, Ben was nice,” You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. The thing was, Ben was nice and that seemed to be a rare thing to find. Sure, you could have done without the boring work talk, but it was better than some of the other dates you’d been on lately.

“Hm, just nice?” Anthony stifles a a laugh, closing his mouth immediately when your eyes narrowed at him, “Sorry. I’ll leave probably boring but nice Ben alone.”

“I used to think you were nice, you know?” You snark back, plating the dinner just as Mat slipped in to grab the food.

“Dude you’re a lifesaver,” Mat immediately thanks Anthony and you had to roll your eyes at the sigh, “Wait aren’t you-”

“Rose’s roommate, uh yeah, she cooks all the time so I called her,” Anthony rushes to explain, the idea that Mat would recognize you going right over his head in a panic.

“Well, thanks you guys really saved my ass,” Mat says, grabbing two plates and heading up to the roof where you knew Rose was probably checking her teeth in nervous panic.

It took forever to clean up the kitchen, Anthony’s sad initial attempt to cook was disastrous. You probably didn’t help, and by the time you were done cooking you had used every pan in Mat’s apartment. You could hear Rose’s voice in the hall and you both looked at each other in a panic. Anthony grabbed your hand, pulling you into the nearest closet to the kitchen.

“Quiet,” Anthony whispers, your mind far too distracted by your head pressed against his chest to care about just how small this closet was. You were trying to steady your own breathing, the closet was small and when Anthony took up most of the space you could feel a bit of anxiety creeping in. You wrap your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into his sides to grab a hold of quite literally anything. Anthony can feel it, how nervous you were so he took a chance and carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down just a little bit, “Just wait until they’re in his room and I’ll take us home I promise.”

You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting Anthony provide you with any comfort he was willing to give. He was a bit snarky and definitely a little too bossy but he was the best you were going to get for the moment. You hear a door click and with Rose’s giggle on the other side you knew you were in the clear.

“So you really went through all of this just for a few wins?” You break the silence in Anthony’s car, looking out the window while he drove you both home.

“I mean, yeah, when Mat plays his best so do the rest of us,” Anthony shrugs, “Don’t tell me I could be playing better, I’ve heard it enough.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You defend, your voice small, “Do you think we could get them away for a night next weekend?”

“Hot date? Boring Ben doesn’t seem like he’d sleep over until the third date,” Anthony jokes, tapping you on the thigh.

“Sort of, I have my boss’s birthday party and I just want him to hate me less,” You admit, plus the office gossip always seemed to revolve around the fact that you never brought a date anywhere.

“I think you’re impossible to hate, trust me I’ve been trying.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

***

Everything was going wrong, like very wrong. The bigger plan was actually going the way it was supposed to, Rose and Mat were off to an Airbnb in the Hamptons for a night that Anthony just happened to mention to Mat during practice the day after you cooked them that dinner. That, however, was the only thing going well for you. You were dressed up, the black dress you were wearing looked absolutely killer on you. Your leg was poking out of the slit that was appropriate for a work event and the date you were supposed to be on, but your date was nowhere to be seen. Turns out Boring Ben wasn’t boring at all, or he was just a total douche and you never realized. Regardless, you were dateless yet again, and you had to admit it was a bit of an ego killer too. You thought about not going, but after telling a few of your coworkers that not only were you going, you were bringing a date.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the passive aggressive comments from the newlyweds who seemed to litter your office. You had ten wedding invitations last summer from your coworkers alone, and now you had to show up dateless for what felt like the millionth time in your life.

“Woah,” You hear Anthony’s voice as soon as the elevator opened, a low whistle escaping from his lips until he realized you were without your date, “Where’s that Ben dude?”

“He didn’t show if you really need to know,” You complain and Anthony could feel his heart break just a little.

Anthony sighs, taking a look at his watch and then back at you. You looked hurt, despite the smile plastered on your face that he could see right through. He was going to have a night in, maybe even invite over the girl he’d been hooking up with but in his heart he knew what the right thing to do was, “Give me five minutes to change?”

“No Beau you really don’t have to come, I got stood up, it's on me,” You rush out, stopping Anthony dead in his tracks.

“It’s not your fault that dude was an asshole,” Anthony scoffs, “And you look too good to not have a date.”

Anthony didn’t say another word, unlocking the door to his place and coming back out less than five minutes later in a freshly pressed suit, “No tie okay?”

“No tie is fine,” You squeaked out, watching Anthony fix the cuffs of his shirt. Everyone thinks a man putting on a suit is hot right? It wasn’t just that he looked damn good in it, “You can still back out.”

Anthony didn’t back out, in fact, he was a better date than you thought he could be. He was being a good sport, especially when you came to the realization your boss was a huge Islanders fan. He had Anthony by his side all night, no doubt pestering him about the season. You felt awful, and while Anthony had a smile on his face you couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting him in the situation in the first place.

“I met that boyfriend of yours,” Your coworker Stella says, nudging you with her elbow, “He seems like a keeper.”

“Oh he’s-” You went to deny any indication that Anthony was your boyfriend but you knew Stella better than that, and just like she did at everyone Monday morning team meeting, she was interrupting you before you had a chance to finish your sentence.

“And don’t even tell me it’s not serious he couldn’t stop talking about you,” Stella grabs your arm, and you raise your eyebrows and look at Anthony. He catches your eye, sending you a wink while he goes back to listening to whatever your boss was rambling about, “See? So cute.”

The night was going smoothly, and by the time dinner rolled around you were done for the night. One too many glasses of wine had your head resting on Anthony’s shoulder while your boss's wife made a toast. His hand was resting on the exposed skin on your thigh and if you weren’t convinced you were overthinking it - you may have thought Anthony was putting in a little more effort.

“I’m sorry my boss was chewing your ear off,” You whisper, catching Anthony’s attention, “I don’t want you to think I brought you because you’re you and he likes your team.”

“I don’t think that,” Anthony assures you, his lips just inches away from kissing on the forehead, “And he doesn’t hate you, he told me liked you.”

“He likes you, seems like everyone does,” You muse, after having gotten compliments all night about what a joy your boyfriend was you were sure Anthony was a better date than he was an actual companion.

“Better date than Ben?” Anthony asks, and you nod with a grin on your face.

Anthony wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. In the short time since he invited you into his place he only learned how annoying you can be, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t think it was cute. It was cute that you thought Mat and Rose could actually fall in love. It was cute that you never kept quiet when you were both sneaking around because something got you excited. And it was downright adorable to watch you laugh at your boss’s wife who was teasing her husband in her speech. He liked you, and he never thought about it until he saw the heartbroken look on your face when you told him your date stood you up.

“Ready to go home?” Anthony whispers, your eyes were getting heavier from the wine, and he wasn’t sure how much longer you would hold up until you fell asleep on his shoulder. Not that Anthony would have minded at all, he might even have preferred it.

By the time you’d gotten back to your apartment building, you made it clear why you limited yourself on wine at events. Anthony kept refilling your glass before you had a chance to stop him, and now he was practically chasing you down the hall because you insisted on running away for no reason at all.

“For a professional athlete you’re pretty slow,” You poke Anthony in the chest, who was currently fishing through your purse for your set of keys. He finally finds them turning them into the lock and opening the door, “Beauuuu.”

“Yes?” Anthony asks, grabbing your waist while you tripped over your heels.

“Do you think Mat really likes Rose?” You ask, the question wasn’t really for Anthony at all. It was coming from a guilty feeling that had been stewing inside of you for a few days. Rose seemed smitten, and a part of you knew a lot of those dates were just planned by you.

“He does, it’ll all work out,” Anthony assures you, because the frown on your face told him that if he didn’t he was about to have a crying Y/N on his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to make you cry.

“Promise?” You ask, finally slipping off your heels and leaning against the doorframe. You wanted him to stay, use the age old it’s late excuse for a few more hours where he was close to you. His apartment was across the hall, and asking him to stay would be silly. You watched him head out the door, turning around to give you one more look and answer your question.

“Yeah I promise.”

***

This entire thing had gotten out of hand, and Rose and Mat’s relationship was becoming a chore. You had stopped them from killing each other twice in the past week, texting Anthony almost exact directions on how Mat was going to fix whatever stupid he said. Mat didn’t know, or maybe he did and he didn’t care to say anything about how with your help his relationship with Rose would be over before it started. Now, you were hiking across the city for flowers so Mat could apologize to Rose for forgetting her mother’s name as if she didn’t talk about her family constantly. You finally got them to Mat’s wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead when a text came that rocked your world.

I think I love Mat, he literally had these delivered after I got mad at him.

Attached was a picture of the flowers, and a guilty feeling churned in your stomach while you made your way back to your place. You stopped in the hallway, looking at Anthony’s door biting your lip and thinking about what the consequences of this all really was - and it was eating at you.

You were fucked, completely and utterly fucked. It seemed wrong, like everything in your best friend’s love life was a lie you created because it was. So you panicked, and snuck away to Anthony’s without a second thought. You knocked twice, a sleepy hockey player appearing on the other side.

“Rose is in love with Mat,” You state, pushing Anthony into his own place and walking past him.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Anthony asks, watching you pace through his apartment.

“It’s not real, everything Mat knows about Rose is because you told him,” You explain, stopping in the middle of the room, “We planned their dates, we did everything, and when they realize they might not as much in common as they think Rose is going to be heartbroken and-”

“So, you got what you wanted? She’s always over there,” Anthony counters back, not mentioning the hot streak his teammate was on.

“You don’t see anything with this?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man you thought you knew in front of you, “That your friend is going to be with someone when their relationship is built on a lie.”

“You act like he’s going to marry her,” Anthony groans, not even realizing until after the words left his mouth about how awful that sounded. Your jaw had dropped, your eyes wide while you look at Anthony, “Wait Y/N-”

“I’m telling them the truth,” You say, a stoic robotic tone to your voice. You thought about telling Rose just minutes before you left your place, but you stopped yourself before you ratted out your friend. Now, it seemed like it didn’t matter. Anthony was going to be a selfish asshole regardless of what you did and you weren’t going to let that sham of a relationship continue, “I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid idea to begin with.”

***

You walked out of Anthony’s life after that, and in the week that’s passed since, he was miserable. He didn’t know what you told Rose, but he definitely heard the arguing you were having with her from across the hall. He knew he should have stepped in, but the way you looked at him when you left was the only reason he didn’t. You looked at him with such disdain, like the mere indication that he didn’t care about his own friend’s feelings were the most awful thing he could have done.

Maybe it was, either way the guilt was eating Anthony alive. He called, but you never picked up. He texted you, using some dumb excuse about needing to grab a package outside his door while he on a road trip but an answer never came. Hell, he even tried to email you. The only thing left to do was walk across the hall and knock on your door, if you were even still there.

“Dude you’re doing it again,” Mat says, tossing a chip at his teammate and catching Anthony’s attention, “Just go over there and apologize.”

“Did you apologize to Rose?” Anthony huffs, annoyed with Mat’s attempt at giving him any advice.

“I didn’t have to because this was your fault,” Mat explains, reminding Anthony of exactly what happened after you left his place. You told Rose everything, and after what Anthony heard as a nasty fight - Rose and Mat spilt up once they realize they actually had nothing in common, “And fuck you dude because I still apologized to Rose after that.”

“Fine, I’ll go over,” Anthony budges, stomping out of his own place and across the hall to yours. He knocked twice, hearing some shuffling on the other end. The door finally clicked open, and when Anthony was met with Rose’s face, his shoulders slumped.

“She’s not here,” Rose leans against the doorway, her arms crossed at Anthony, “We’re, uh, taking some time away from each other.”

“This wasn’t Y/N’s fault it was mine,” Anthony rushes to explain, the reality of ruining someone's friendship settling in.

“I know it was,” Rose assures him, because she’d forgiven you just three days after you told her the truth. That wasn’t enough for you to come home, because your own guilt was eating you alive, “She feels too bad, and she doesn’t want to see you.”

That was it, Rose’s words were enough to have reality really settle in. Anthony Beauvillier was a massive asshole, and the reason you weren’t back in your own apartment. He did that. He was going to have to live with that guilt. And he didn’t know how to fix it.

***

It had been a month.

You didn’t know why you knew exactly how many days it’s been since you stomped out of Anthony’s apartment and into your own to tell the truth. But, you did know that exactly thirty days prior that’s just what you did. You told Rose everything, from the stupid plan to your own stupid feelings that seemed to

cloud your judgement. She was upset, and she had every right to be. You knew that she could have kicked you out of the apartment and told you to fuck off, and she did. Three days later, a much calmer Rose was on the phone telling you everything was fine and you could come back home.

You didn’t want to, because you knew Anthony was across the hall living his life just the way he had been before you stepped into it. He was going to go out on dates with girls that weren’t you, and go off on road trips for games he needed to play. He could set Mat up with someone else if he really wanted to, but none of those things would ever involve you again. You packed your stuff, and moved into a new place after couch surfing by a few of your friend’s places.

“You’re depressed,” Rose kicks your leg from the other side of your new couch, a movie night to celebrate your new place was in full effect, “I told you I’m not mad about the Mat thing.”

“I know,” You sigh, staring at the glass of fruity pink wine Rose had brought over, “I just-”

“You miss him,” Rose muses, a knowing look on her face, “It was never about Mat and I, it was always using us as an excuse to see each other.”

“It was about you guys at first,” You defend, staring at the blonde across from you who was looking at you intensely.

“He came and looked for you, after a week,” Rose says, holding onto the tidbit of information she’d been saving for almost a month, “I think he wanted to apologize.”

“Well he didn’t so it doesn’t matter anymore,” You snap back, Rose melting back into the couch to avoid being the next stop on your rage tour. You didn’t want to care about Anthony or his stupid biceps again, but you never stopped thinking about him.

***

Anthony wasn’t doing much better, in fact, he was doing a whole lot worse. He felt like shit, he was playing like shit, and he seemed just like Mat was when he came up with that stupid plan. He tried to throw himself into hockey, push his body where it had never gone before because then he wouldn’t have to think about you. He wouldn’t have to think about how much of a romantic you were or how you helped with even if he didn’t deserve. Most importantly, he wouldn’t have to think about how heartbroken you looked when he told you he didn’t want to come clean because it didn’t matter.

Anthony was doing the same thing he’d been doing all month, stalking your social media profiles in an attempt to see if you were doing okay. He knew you moved, and if he wasn’t on the West Coast maybe he would have stopped you. A text from Mat came in, one that had him rolling his eyes.

My rooftop in twenty it’s an emergency.

***

What Anthony didn’t know was that the same text was sent from Rose’s phone to yours just a few minutes prior. You rushed over Mat’s, absolutely terrified about what you could have been walking into. Except, when you got up to the roof there was nothing. No Mat. No Rose. Just yourself and-

“Fuck,” Anthony whispers, opening the rooftop door to reveal you on the otherside. It was just you, standing there just as confused as he was by the cryptic text from his teammate, “Uh Mat texted me to come?”

A grin threatens to break out on your face, just as the gears were starting to shift in Anthony’s. You were being set up, of course not as well as you would have planned, but it was a set up nonetheless.

“You know what they’re doing right?” You ask, breaking the silence. Anthony just nods, running a hand over his face without saying a word, “I’m going to go-”

“No,” Anthony rushes out, grabbing your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? You made me cry for weeks and almost blew up my longest friendship and all you have to say is sorry?” You questioned him, waiting for Anthony to come up with something better than that.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn’t want to stop doing this because I didn’t want to stop hanging out with you?” Anthony exclaims, “Because that’s the truth. I was being a selfish asshole, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I feel awful for what I did to you. I was so scared to come and apologize because you have every right to tell me to go fuck myself and never speak to me again. The problem is, I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you talk about why you were a hopeless romantic, and take you home after you drank too much at a work thing. I-”

Anthony couldn’t finish his rant, because you pressed your lips against his before he had the chance. His hands were on your face, pulling you as closely as he could because he needed this kiss to show you that he wanted you. You finally pulled away, breathless while Anthony’s hands snuck down to your waist. His forehead was against yours, your noses bumping together while he whispered his next words.

“We’re not telling Mat this worked.”

“Oh definitely not, no more set ups?”

“Unless it’s me setting up our first date, consider it a promise.”

#anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #my writing

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avaantares · 2 years

Note

Hey! After seeing posts about it from you for a while, I wanted to check out tgcf, but I wasn’t sure what exactly it is other than cool vibes. Could you give me a little direction please?

Hi, Anon! Sorry if this reply is late; I'm not sure when your Ask came in, as I've had very spotty internet access while traveling, but today I'm on a train that has some form of wifi (though Tumblr still isn't loading completely, so I really hope this posts properly...).

Anyway… HI, FRIEND, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT TGCF

What it is:

Tian Guan Ci Fu, or Heaven Official's Blessing, is a Chinese danmei (M/M romance) novel by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, the same author who wrote Mo Dao Zu Shi, on which the popular Chinese drama The Untamed is based. (You have doubtless seen that on my blog, as it's another of my obsessions!)

The story follows Xie Lian, a royal prince who, in his youth, ascended to immortal godhood because of his profound skill with the sword. However, he later fell into disgrace and was banished from heaven, abandoned by his allies, and divested of his spiritual power, vanishing into obscurity for centuries.

Eight hundred years later, Xie Lian unexpectedly regains his godly status, throwing the heavens into chaos. Anxious to pacify his fellow gods, he accepts missions to solve problems in the mortal realm -- but the assignments bring him into conflict with other powerful gods and repeatedly entangle him with heaven's greatest enemy, the Ghost King Hua Cheng.

The secrets and conspiracies Xie Lian begins to uncover are inextricably linked to events in his own past, forcing him to confront the fear and guilt he's tried to bury for hundreds of years. On the path to exposing the truth, he makes friends, makes enemies, shakes the foundations of heaven itself, falls in love, and… collects a lot of garbage. (It's his day job. No, seriously.)

Why I like it:

The novel (technically, novels; the story spans five volumes) ranges from light comedy to painful angst to soft romance to some extremely dark moments (trigger warnings may apply), so there's something for every mood. Xie Lian's 800 years of backstory provide plenty of room for twisty plot threads and mystery. The characters are engaging, as well: Xie Lian poses as a warm, fluffy cinnamon roll, but is secretly a tortured charcoal briquette who could actually kill you (my favorite kind of character!), while Hua Cheng can and will murder you with a sideways glance, but is in fact a closeted Cinnabon. The supporting cast is also a lot of fun.

Another plus is that the romance isn't the entire plot -- the story stands on its own merit, while the relationship progresses almost incidentally along the way, making it feel more natural. The romance is essential to the plot and guides characters' choices throughout the story, but it doesn't feel forced in a "NOW KISS" sort of way.

(I just realized that this entire description is probably incomprehensible outside of Tumblr. What would we do without the cinnamon roll analogy? LOL)

Ways to experience the story:

TGCF is currently being released in English by Seven Seas Entertainment. The first two volumes are out now (available in paperback or e-book from your book retailer of choice, or from many public libraries).

There is also an absolutely GORGEOUS manhua (comic), which would be my top recommendation for anyone who is interested in the story but doesn't want to commit to reading five books. It's more complete than the donghua (below) but a faster read than the novels -- plus you get to look at STARember's stunning artwork! The official English translation is free to read on the Bilibili mobile app and website, though you have the option to support it financially (and unlock new chapters faster) if you want to. (Note: The manhua is still in progress, currently updating on a biweekly schedule.)

As mentioned above, there's also a donghua (animated series). The first season, which covers volume 1 of the book, is available on Netflix in many regions, and a second season is slated for release later this year. The animation is very pretty; however, I will caution that the donghua tends to gloss over (or just leave out) some important story elements, so while it's a decent introduction, it's not necessarily the best iteration of the story.

Finally, there is a live-action drama slated to come out… sometime within the next year (I don't think there's an official release date yet), so if you try the story and like it, watch out for [what we assume will be titled in English] Eternal Faith!

I hope that answered your questions! Feel free to hit me up if you have more.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #ask

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Text

Neighbours

Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, cursing, kissing, mentions of cheating, death of a parent, alcohol.

Category: Mix of angst and fluff

Word Count: 4k

Author's Note: Idea came from @m0rcia‘s garvez idea from the Hotchner fam au :)

-----

During High School

The boy next door.

Oh how you hated him, something about him just irritated you. Tall, dark and annoying is what he was, there was no other way to put it. It wasn’t always like that though, truthfully you and Derek had gotten along rather well as children.

Things started to change around the start of high school, you didn't hang out as much and you had both gotten your own friend groups. His focus was on football and yours was on school. The two of you used to spend hours upon hours outside throwing around that stupid football of his. You’d both go home covered in mud and grass stains but you didn’t have the same desire to be tackled into the mud as you did when you were younger.

Senior year was coming to an end, everyone had picked a path for their life and you were, well, stuck. You had no clue what you wanted to do or where to go from there. The whole neighbourhood was gushing about Derek, the school’s star football player and his plans to go to Northwestern with his football scholarship. Of course your parents also knew all about Derek and his scholarship, meaning that you got compared to him every single night until you figured out what you were doing with your life.

Graduation day was absolute hell. It was hot and you were uncomfortable in the heels your mother forced you to wear. You sat in the smouldering heat with all of your classmates, listening as your wretched principal spoke.

Clearly, you loved high school.

It came the time to throw the caps, because your school did things like that. You un-energetically threw your cap in the air, watching as it hit the floor. Something hit your back as you bent to pick up your cap. Turning around, you were met with none other than Derek Morgan himself.

“Sorry y/n”

“Watch where the fuck you throw shit”

“Okay mama, relax with the attitude” he squeezed your shoulder, “I’m sorry”

“Are you though?” you rolled your eyes and pushed his hand off your shoulder.

“I am s-”

“Save it” you shake your head as you walk the other way. He didn’t say anything to you again after that day.

The night before he left, his mom threw a little party for him. It started as a little party and ended with the whole graduating class in Fran’s backyard. You had gone over with your parents, but you didn’t speak to Derek. You said hello to Fran and his sisters, and a few friends you saw at the party. Your parents left early and you stuck around to hang out with some friends.

Around 3am, you decided it was time to head home. It was only Derek with a few of his guys and their girlfriends hanging around, your friends had just left. Fran was in the kitchen trying to clean up the house, you stepped in and knocked on the wall.

“Need some help Mrs. Morgan ?”

“Oh sweetie, call me Fran and I'm alright. Why don’t you head home ?”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. If it’s just the kitchen, I can finish up and you can go to bed ?”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked before setting the garbage bag down.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Get some rest” you smiled back.

She kissed your cheek before heading to her bedroom. You liked Fran, she was always nice to you and checked up on you, even if you and Derek stopped talking.

The backdoor clicked shut while you were washing the dishes. “Hey, I didn't realize you were still here” Derek spoke quietly, “where’s mom?” he asked you. “In bed, I told her I'd finish cleaning up” you told him, not turning around.

“Thanks, I can take over if you wanna get home” he mumbled with his mouth full. You glance over your shoulder to see Derek practically inhaling a slice of pizza.

“You still don't chew?” you asked him, shutting off the sink and wiping your hands off.

“What’s that supposed to mean ?” he said, his brows furrowed and his mouth full. You gave him a small smile and shook your head.

“You actually smile?” Derek asked you, a look of genuine amazement on his face.

“Shut up” you picked up a slice of pizza and hopped up onto the counter. Derek stood beside you, leaning against the counter. The only thing between you and him was the empty box of pizza. The two of you ate in silence, no tension, no anger, just there in the moment.

Derek looked over at you, “what happened to us?” he questioned you.

“What do you mean?” you hopped off the counter.

“You used to say we’d be in each other’s lives forever when we were younger” he watched as you moved about the kitchen.

“I’m still here Derek” you told him.

“But you’re not though” he uttered, looking at you.

“It’s just different now” you picked up the empty box and threw it out.

“How? I’m still me and you’re still you” He grabbed your hand.

You scoffed and shook your head, “expect you’re not just you anymore. You’re the popular football player that everyone loves and I'm just.. me”

He looked at you, he looked sad. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t do that. Don’t say it’s not true, because we both know it’s true.” Derek didn't say anything to you, he pulled you closer to him. You were now standing in front of him, he was still against the counter.

“Y/n, you’ll always be important to me, you know that right ? I know we drifted, a lot more than I’d like to admit but I still care about you, I still check on you” his hand cradled your face, you were looking up at him.

“Really ?” you asked him quietly, so quietly he almost didn't hear you. He nodded and leaned towards you. You leaned in too, his lips inches away from yours.

“Can I?” he whispered, you nodded. His lips were on yours, your arms were over his shoulder, one of your hands resting on the back on his neck. Derek’s hand was still on your cheek and the other one on your waist.

If it wasn't for his sister coming down and catching the two of you, it would have gone on a lot long. “Ahem” she cleared her throat, you and Derek pulled away from each other and turned towards her.

“Hey you two” she had a smug smile on her face.

“Hi.. uh I should get home” you said quietly before heading towards the door.

“Let me walk you home” Derek followed you to the door, you shook your head. “I’m fine. Goodnight you guys, tell Fran I say thank you for having us over” you slide open the backdoor and step out.

The early morning breeze was chill but yet warm. It was starting to change to autumn weather, you walked across the street, the wind blowing the leaves down the street. You sat on your front porch when you got home, your mom stepped out.

“Are you now getting home?” she walked past you to the car.

“Yeah, I stayed back to help Fran tidy up. Where are you going ?” you asked

“Work, there was an emergency” she told you as she got in the car, you knew she was lying to you. Sometimes she forgot you weren’t a kid anymore, you knew she was cheating on your dad. She wasn’t very good at hiding it, but you had the things on your mind, like your kiss with Derek.

He was leaving for college in less than 12 hours, it made no sense to start something with him. You sat on your porch for the rest of the day, heading in to use the bathroom and get something to eat.

You watched the sun rise, felt the temperature change, watched Derek pack his boxes into the car, saw his goodbye to his sisters and his mother. He looked across the street, he looked at you before getting in his car. He didn't smile, he didn't come say anything.

He just left.

15 years later

You found yourself, once again, on your front pouch watching Derek. Only this time, he was unpacking. Fran had passed away last week, it was a heart attack. No one could have known but that didn't make it hurt any less.

You had seen him at the funeral, you didn’t say anything to him but he saw you. He gave you a small smile and you gave him one back. You hadn't seen him since your kiss 15 years ago.

He stepped into the house and shut the door, you headed inside too. Your house was just as empty as his. Your parents had moved to the Bahamas in an attempt to save their marriage, leaving you with the house. You took the year after high school to work before finally settling on teaching as a career. You taught at your local high school with the same horrible staff and wretched principal that you hated all those years ago. You understood how the kids felt, it wasn't hard to connect with them.

Settling in on your couch with a bottle of wine and Netflix, the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” you called out, not wanting to get up but there was no answer. The doorbell rang again, “who’s there?” you shouted, thinking that whoever was at the door didn't hear you the first time, but again there was no answer. The bell rang a 3rd time, “fuck hold on! I'm coming” you groaned as you walked to the door. You pulled the door open,

“Are you deaf? you didn't hear me shouti-” Derek stood at your front door. “Oh, hi” you looked at him, he looked the same, only slightly older, more mature. “Hey, can I come in?” he asked, you nodded before stepping aside and letting him in.

You really had debated if you should let him in, but you couldn’t turn him away, especially not now, not after what he had just gone through.

He looked around as he followed you back to the living room. “House looks different” he took a seat on one end of the couch, “yeah, remodelled after they left” you sat at the other. Derek looked at you with a confused expression on his face, “left?” “they went to the Bahamas to try and save their marriage but I doubt that’ll work” you took a sip of your wine. You leaned the bottle in his direction, he took the bottle from you and took a sip.

“No glasses ?” he chuckled, leaning back into the cushions.

“Didn’t want to wash them afterwards” you turned the grinch back on. Derek laughed, you looked over at him, “what ?” “you still watch this shit?” “hey! the grinch is my favourite, don't start with me Morgan” he rolled his eyes and settled back into his spot.

15 minutes later, he rolled over onto his stomach and sprawled himself over your couch. “I'm hungry, what do you have to eat ?” he looked at you, “order a pizza” you mumbled, your eyes still on the tv.

Half an hour later, a weight lifts off the house and your front door opens. Derek returns to the couch with a box of pizza. You watched as he set the box down and opened it, he looked over at you.

“It’s rude to stare” he smiled and you shook your head “don't flatter yourself”

He picked up a piece and practically inhaled it. “Seriously dude, would it kill you to chew ?” you watched him as his face changed into confusion.

“Okay, I need to know what you mean by that! I've been hearing it my whole life” he pouted. You let out a loud laugh, “you never chew, you just inhale your food” you told him, his mouth making an O shape.

Once again, you could yourself in the company of Derek Morgan, in the middle of the night, eating pizza, in silence. Shifting positions on the couch, you turned to him, “I'm really sorry about Fran, she was a wonderful woman” you spoke quietly, unsure if you regretted what you just said. He nodded, “she was, wasn’t she?” he gave you a small smile.

“I saw your sisters when at the service, they didn’t come help you pack up ?”

“They’ve got their lives, work and their families. I told them I'd handle it”

“Hm, you’re not busy with work ? What happened to Mister Big Shot that went to Northwestern?” you joked, he chuckled.

“Well, Mister Big Shot that went to Northwestern” he mocked, “got a law degree and works for the FBI now” he admitted to you proudly.

“What the hell, are you serious ?” you were genuinely shocked, he nodded. If someone told you that Derek went on to be a football player, you’d believe them with no questions asked, but Derek, as a FBI agent, was something you never ever thought would happen.

“The same Derek that rolled around in mud his entire childhood and was in trouble all the time, works for the fricking FBI ?” you laughed, “yup, that would be the one and I wasn't always in trouble!”

The two you ended up sitting on the couch till about 3 am. “Can I ask you something ?” Derek turned to you, “of course” you looked over at him.

“What happened to us? I want the truth. We’ve both grown up, the least we can do is talk about it.”

“I don’t know, we just drifted.” you looked at the wall, you couldn’t bare to look at Derek right now. His hand rested on yours, “y/n, c’mon, the truth.”

“We just didn't fit into each other’s lives anymore. You went from Derek that would play dolls with me to Derek that was the popular football player. All the girls loved you, they practically swooned over you in the hallways, the guys were constantly talking about you and your games. I didn't want that attention. I just wanted you as you, not everything that came with it. The only way to let you go was to push you away I guess” you admitted to him, he sighed.

“See, if you had told me that-” you cut him off, “what ? you would have ignored all the girls ? stopped being the star of the football team ? don’t lie to yourself Derek. We both knew you loved it, it’s who you are. You would have never given that up, especially not for me.” you looked over at him, his eyes were on you. He looked at you like he had never seen you before, like you were this fascinating thing that deserved all of his attention.

“That moment we had in the kitchen that night, that meant nothing ?” he moved closer to you. “Of course it meant something but you didn’t even say goodbye. You just upped and left, Derek. All the times you came home to visit, you didn’t even say hello”

“y/n, I tried. I came every time I came home. That day, I didn’t say goodbye because I thought I had upset you with the kiss, but I came every time I came home, to see you and try and talk. Your mom always said you weren’t home and she’d tell you.”

“What? She never told me anything”

“Well there you go. I tried, I promise you I did.”

The two of you sat there, the tension was so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife. “Y/n” he called for you, you were too deep in your thoughts to hear him. “y/n” he called out again, his finger pulls your chin towards him.

“Hm?”

“You know I care about you, right ? I never stopped”

“Okay” you mumbled and got up.

“That’s it? We’re not going to talk about it ?” Derek stood up

You walked into the kitchen, ignoring Derek and his questions. You leaned forward on the counter, your hands gripping the edge to try and ground yourself.

Why hadn’t she told me he came ? He just wanted to talk, what’s her problem ?

“Y/n, come on. Can we talk?” Derek rested his hand on your shoulder, you shrugged your shoulder and pushed his hand off. “Get out” you mumbled, “what ?” his eyes burning into your back. “Get. Out.” you said a little louder, “Why ? I just want to ta-” you turned around, you grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him out of the kitchen and to the front door. “Out” you opened the door,

“I'm so confused, why?”

“Derek, shut up and get out!”

You pushed him out of the door, he stood there looking back at you with a look of shock and confusion on his face. You slammed the door shut before heading to the bedroom to find our phone, expect it wasn't there. It felt as if you tore apart the entire house looking for it. When you found it, you dialled the one person you knew could answer your questions.

“Hello ?” She answered

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that Derek came to see me ?! and not just once, BUT EVERY TIME!!” you yelled into the phone

“Honey, calm down” your mother said to you.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! you lied to me for 15 years, you watched me sulk for 2 whole years about Derek kissing me and just leaving when you knew he had come to talk to me!”

“He’s no good for you” she said as if that was a fact.

“What the hell does that mean? Not like you’d know what was good for me anyways. You don't care about anyone but yourself” you just hung up on her, you weren't in the mood to deal with her and her nonsense.

You paced back and forth through the whole house for a few hours. You had downed an entire bottle of wine while you paced, you knew what you needed to do.

Come on, it’s just Derek.

You headed out of the house and across the street.

God, what if he hates me now ?

You walked back towards your house.

Oh, he won't hate me.

You headed back to his house.

This is stupid.

You turned around to walk back to your house when you heard his voice.

“Are you gonna stand out here all night like a mad woman ?” he leaned against the door frame. You walked up to him, he stood there looking at you. “I’m sorry I kicked you out earlier.. I just needed a minute to process things” you admitted, Derek chuckled. “Considering that it's 4am, I'd say you had more than a minute to process. I’m making tea, want some?” he asked you, you nodded, “tea sounds good” you walked in.

The house hadn't changed, expect for the addition of a few new picture frames. There were some of his sisters and him from what looks like his college graduation, some of his sisters and their families and the one that stood out to you was of Derek, Fran and some little skinny white boy. You picked up the frame and turned to Derek.

“Come all this way and flirt with me but you have a boyfriend ?” you asked, holding back a laugh.

“Haha, very funny. That’s Spencer Reid, we work together”

“He works for the FBI ? He looked like a baby” you laughed and set down the frame.

“He’s grown a lot since then” Derek laughed and headed to the kitchen, you followed him. “God, it felt like just yesterday we were running around here with Fran cooking and yelling at us” you said, hopping up on the counter. “Yeah, we had some good times” Derek smiled as he handed you a mug of tea.

The two of you drank your tea quietly, you broke the silence.

“I talked to my mom” you looked over at Derek, he turned to face you.

“Oh yeah? What’d she say ?”

“Nothing important, just tried to lie to me yet again”

“About ?”

“Apparently you’re ‘no good for me’ whatever that means” you roll your eyes, Derek shifts closer to you and he changes the topic.

“You’re a teacher now ?”

“I am” you smiled, “ I don’t remember telling you that though, you work your FBI magic on me?” you chuckled, he smiled at you.

“Mom told me, actually” your head tilted to the side, he realized you were confused.

“I feel weird admitting this to you, but she used to tell me what you were up too. She said she came to your graduation too” he fidgeted with his fingers.

You smiled to yourself at the memory of Fran at your graduation. Your parents had already moved away and you didn't have anyone, you mentioned it to Fran as a by-the-way thing and she showed up.

“She did, but you’ve been keeping tabs on me or everyone you graduated with?”

“Just the ones I've made out with” he had a smirk on that annoying face of his

“Oh so half of the graduating class?” you held back a laugh. A loud “hey!” and a light smack to the arm was what that comment got you. Derek picked up the empty mugs and put them in the sink, on his way back to his spot beside you, you stretched your legs out, one was on each side of him.

“What’s the plan here Ms. L/N?”

“Not sure Mr. Morgan”

“Actually, it's Agent Morgan to you” he stated causing you to roll your eyes. His hands rested on your thighs, “just two friends, chilling in a kitchen. Maybe they might kiss” you mumbled looking at him, he looked back at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah they might”

“Exact- wait what ?”

His hand cradled your face, your lips inches apart. “Can I ?” “Stop talking and kiss me alrea-” His lips on yours ended your sentence. Your heart pounded in your chest, you could only focus on how Derek’s lips felt against yours. You had been dreaming for another moment like this since your last kiss with him, it felt as if time stopped and it was only the two of you while the world melted away.

Derek’s eyes had opened, taking the beautiful women in front of him. Taking in the moment just to make sure he wasn’t imagining what he had dreamt of the last 15 years and for the first time in those 15 years, he didn't feel angry or sad when he looked at you, he saw the one he had been waiting for.

It felt like forever before either of you pulled away for a breath. Your hands clung onto Derek’s shirt like he’d disappear if you let go, his hands found their way to the back of your neck, toying with the hair at the nape of your neck. The two of you, wrapped up in each other, smiling at one another like children.

“Not so bad huh ?”

“Not so bad Morgan”

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Taglist: @aaronhotchnerr @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @ssa-holmes @katexrichardson @sluttytears

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