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yuta-nakamots · 3 years ago

Text

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings - alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice.

Taglist - @astroboy-lele @in-my-neofeelings || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu who unfortunately deactivated.

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

104 notes · View notes

dreamscript · 8 years ago

Text

Word for Word (M)

“Less talking. More fucking. Yeah?”

You swore you’d never sleep with him again, but people change. For better or for worse--who cares? Nobody’s trying to commit, anyways.

➟ jungkook x reader

➟ college/fratboy/fwb au.

➟ 3.4k of collegic glory & newly redacted frat names ↳ tw: smut.

Jeon Jungkook is a fuckboy through and through. If you look through all his social media photos, all you see are countless images of him sandwiched between two girls, his muscular arms wrapped around their shoulders. Two different girls in each picture, never the same. Most of the photos are dark, dimly lit party scenes with the flash in their eyes, but sometimes there are filter-saturated beach pictures in which Jungkook’s shirtless and hugging girls in bikinis.

(Quite frankly, at times you weren’t really sure who to be jealous of: Jungkook or the girls. Both looked really fucking good. But it’s not like you were really Instagram stalking him and actually cared about his pictures or anything. Totally not.)

His friends aren’t any better. Their entire squad is worshipped by a surprisingly large portion of the male population; your guy friends spend way too much time scrolling through the photos, gushing over the girls, gushing over how much they’d like to be Jeon Jungkook, gushing about any of his friends. And the girls think he’s hot (and, okay, so do you). They flirt and tease, show up at his frat; smiling, giggling. They drink, party, fuck around. Come and go. After all, in this generation...

“...having a fuck buddy used to be such a scandalous thing, you know?” your friend says. “But like now, it’s kind of just like ‘oh, you have a fuck buddy? Is he hot? I bet he’s good in bed. That’s so cool.’ It’s kind of like that kinda thing now. Because it’s basically like having a significant other, but with no strings attached.”

You nod and take a sip of your drink. “Yeah. Commitment’s kinda scary, isn’t it? Having to devote so much of your time to just one person--like hell, I don’t even devote that much time to studying so I can graduate!”

Your friend cackles madly and raises her coffee cup in a mock toast. “Preach, oh my god same.”

You knock your cup against hers and gulp your drink. “Okay, but speaking of classes, I actually should get going. I’ve a presentation later today and I kinda need to prepare. I wrote the entire script last night. And honestly? I’ve been running on some mystery combo of Monster, Red Bull, and who knows what else that my dormie handed me. She’s quiet but super helpful in her own way.”

“Jealous. Mine never leaves the room and is always blasting kpop or something else of the sort. She’s not bad, but I kinda wish I had a dorm mate who would hand me caffeine-packed, heart-attack-inducing energy drinks,” your friend jokes.

You give her a tight smile.

“Yeah, alright, fine.” She makes a dismissive gesture. “You going to the ▒▒▒ party tonight?”

“Yeah.” You stand up, gather your things. “D’you know any of the brothers there? I heard it might be a closed party.”

She makes a face. “Really? I was hoping you knew someone.”

“I mean, I do,” you say, slowly. You think of Jungkook, snapback backwards on his head, wearing a tank that shows off his absurdly toned arms. How he holds his cup high up in the air whilst dancing and shoots all the girls smirks and grins. Including you. You’d been avoiding going to the ▒▒▒ house for a while, but the memories seem fresh in your mind--almost tangible. “But I don’t know him well enough. I’d prefer to get turned away than to call him. A pride thing, I guess. We might have to scout out for other open parties just in case, or head to the bars.”

Your friend pouts. “Aw, come on. Well...fine then. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to bring a jacket because you know how gross those places can get, but whatever. Anyways, what’s your deal with him, though? I thought you guys like...were...a thing. A while ago.”

“We had sex once.”

“Yeah. Was it really that bad?”

“Well, let’s just say it was...not the best experience I’ve had in bed.” You’d promised yourself that it wouldn’t happen again because A, he was actually kinda terrible and B, his snobbish compliments to himself-- “God, I’m so hot, feel these abs girl”--during sex became a little annoying.

You’d thought that someone as good looking as he was would actually know how to seduce someone effectively, but unfortunately all the good looks only made his head big. Freshman you was not that great at choosing who to have sex with, apparently.

“Really? People tell me he’s hot as hell and like, really good.”

You roll your eyes. “Either they were so wasted they didn’t remember anything and just made shit up, or a miracle happened and Jungkook learned how to actually fuck someone right while keeping his narcissistic comments to himself. For the record, I think the first one is a lot more likely.”

Your friend laughs. “Alright, well, get ready to meet him tonight.”

“Ha ha, so excited.” You mutter, taking your leave.

Thirty minutes into your class and you’re standing at the front, positioned in front of the podium, with a powerpoint projected behind you.

“Why do people find the ‘bad boy’ trope so appealing? Psychology Today tells us that women may be attracted towards these ‘Dark Triad’--otherwise known as ‘DT’--men due to two factors: sexual selection and sexual conflict,” you say. The next slide has a graph representing a study relating to the theory, which you go on to explain in great detail.

Your gaze flits across the room as you attempt to find a place to focus on: the wall, the chairs, the table, your peer’s faces. Your eyes catch Jungkook’s and he’s smiling wide, a dark grin on his face. It’s probably because he’s enjoying the presentation. A lot. Because it’s about him. And people--especially those like him--love hearing about themselves.

You curse inwardly when you realize that you’re stroking his ego with this presentation. Then again, you figure that there isn’t much more room for his ego to grow any bigger.

“And finally,” you say, moving onto your final slide. “It is important to keep in mind that many of these studies have been conducted with the younger generations, in which short term flings are popular, thus making the concept of play boys even more appealing.”

“Thank you,” your professor says. She jots down something into her notepad and glances around the small, introductory class. “Any questions?”

There are a couple, nothing particularly alarming or that would make you want to shrink in a hole and die because you have no fucking clue what the answer is. Thank god. You catch Jungkook shrugging on his hoodie, the large, lumpy Greek letters flashing under the light of the room. Insufferable.

You think of tonight’s party. You then think of ditching. And then you start to think of your friend’s look of betrayal, jaw hanging open and eyes wide. She’s going to be wearing a cute top and matching skirt. Her makeup’s going to be on point (for once). You feel bad--maybe you shouldn’t ditch, maybe it won’t be all that bad (after all, there were some incredibly hot, decent guys in the frat).

Jungkook sees you watching and winks.

If it wasn’t for Jungkook and his cocky, fuckboy attitude...

“If that is all, thank you very much,” the professor says. “Next, let’s have Jeong Inseong present…”

You pick up the plastic bottle ungraciously, practically dumping the whole thing of cheap vodka into your cup. It’s been a long night. You’ve spent who knows how long on the dance floor, and have managed to finally find your way to the messed up drinks table, somewhat covered in sticky liquid. You tell yourself that it’s all alcohol as you set the half-empty bottle back down, though you know it could very much well be other things. Because you told yourself the sticky shit in the bathroom of your first-ever frat party was alcohol, only to find out that it was actually--

“I had no idea you’d be here.”

Oh lord, here he is. Jungkook. You roll your eyes and take a sip.

“Did you have an invite? I heard they were being really strict out there, even to girls. You could’ve told me you wanted to come from the start, you know.”

“It’s fine. Your bouncers started letting in pretty much any girl after 11, anyways. And I only came because of my friend.” Thankfully--or perhaps, unfortunately--the bus had run late, so you and your friend had arrived later than expected.

“Well, alright then,” he says, running a hand oh-so-casually along your thigh before resting it on your hip. “Also, I didn’t get to tell you this, but that was a nice presentation today.”

You roll your eyes (again) and turn around. “Thanks, Jeon.”

He smirks. “It had an especially interesting topic. Care to tell me how you came up with it?”

“While reading Pride and Prejudice, actually,” you reply. It’s true, really. You’d been skimming through the book when a question came up in your mind, which was answered by another question, and another and another until finally you ended up with four tabs of cat videos, one tab blaring 2010 pop songs, and another tab containing an old Buzzfeed article about far-fetched reasons as to why narcissism gets you laid.

Jungkook looks slightly taken aback. “Oh? Really? Why were you reading that book?”

“I had to proofread some high schooler’s essay and decided I needed a bit of a refresher to, you know, spot any blatant bullshitting.” You take a sip of your drink and give him a look. “I went from being a comp lit major to a plain old English major since the last time we talked. As a result, I might have to stay an extra semester, so I took up a side job for the extra money.”

“Ah, I see.” He takes another drink from his cup. Even though it’s a plain old, stereotypical red solo cup, the way he sips from it elegantly has you thinking for a brief second that it could be a sophisticated wine glass. It’s kind of a dumb thought so you blame it on the fact that you’re beginning to feel the buzz of alcohol.

“So, Miss ‘plain old’ English major, do you have anything more to say about that presentation? Hm? Maybe something more sexual in nature?”

It’s such a ridiculous way to come onto someone but Jungkook’s a prime example of a person who can bypass all sorts of typically socially awkward situations simply because he looks really attractive. He presses closer to you, and you can’t deny how fucking hot it makes you feel.

“Well, I can tell you that although women may think bad boys and the like are more attractive--comparatively, of course--it doesn’t necessarily mean that they would be more likely to have sex with them.” You bat your lashes at him and feign a bright smile.

He falters slightly but smirks to cover it up. There it is again: getting past the awkward feeling of being sassed with a simple, killer look. “Really? That’s unfortunate.” He leans in close, whispers into your ear. “But maybe we could change up that statistic?”

You make no move to push him off of you as he begins to mouth at the shell of your ear, instead gripping his waist. “Oh please, is this going to be another replay of freshman year? You were a flop back then,” you tease. The way he’s mouthing you right now is making heat pool at the bottom of your stomach. You’re going to make another mistake and you know it, and you’re struggling to decide whether or not you should care.

Jungkook groans. “Freshman year was freshman year. Times have changed. Drastically.”

“What, did you take sex ed? Shit like that doesn’t make you any better at it. Like standardized test prep.” This time, you push him off slightly, enough so you can smirk at his face and throw back your drink. It burns. It’s bitter. But it gives you all the courage you need to face him again. Intoxicated, but not incapacitated. He grips your hips tightly, with both hands, and brings your bodies together again.

“Then let me prove it to you,” he says, and leans to mouth at your neck, your collarbone. “Let me prove it to you that I’ve gotten better.”

If you accept, you’d be conforming right with most of your presentation’s findings, giving into the pride and cockiness and narcissism of Jungkook. And for a second time. And yet, right now, you’ve decided you could care less, as he tilts your chin up to kiss you, hot, wet, sloppy. The alcohol makes you feel loose and frankly you’d like more of it, but maybe not, because, if anything, Jungkook’s more intoxicating.

“Alright, playboy,” you say, reaching to play with the collar of his shirt. “But you better be as good as the rumors say you are.”

He chuckles darkly as he brings you in for another open-mouthed kiss. You trail your lips over his skin and over to his ear--

“Let’s take this into the bedroom, shall we?”

He complies. He always does.

As soon as the door is shut and locked--because nothing’s more embarrassing than being caught having (tipsy) sex by strangers--Jungkook’s mouth is on yours again.

Hot breath, skin to skin; you moan into his mouth. When the two of you break apart there’s a thin trail of saliva that connects your lips, but neither of you could care less, and it’s actually kind of hot…

You grind your hips against him and he groans, pushes you back against the bed, only to struggle with taking off his pants. You giggle, reaching over to help unbuckle his belt, slide his jeans off. Tease with the hem of his boxers. Slide them down, casually, sensually.

“You’re such a tease,” he murmurs, taking off your bra, throwing it aside. You run a thumb over his collarbone as you lay on the mattress in your panties, and your panties only.

“Oh, I’m the tease? You--ah--”

Jungkook’s roughly shoved a finger inside of you, working it in and out. He chuckles darkly and lifts your hips up slightly, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it aside. He returns to his ministrations, now using two fingers and making scissoring motions. You moan.

“Want me to eat you out?”

“Only if you can make me come.”

You don’t even have to lift your head to know that he’s smirking. “Oh, I can do that plenty of times, in more ways than one if that’s what you want.” Before you can snark back at him, he slides down between your legs and all of a sudden your mind’s whirling, your head a hazy, lusty mess of pleasure. You can feel his tongue working inside of you and holy shit it feels so good, and then he kisses your clit and sucks it, roughly. You moan.

“You like that, huh, princess?” He licks at your clit as he shoves his fingers back inside you once more, curling his digits and pumping them in and out. You can’t reply, too breathless for words, as you feel the heat burning and twisting and curling and then there’s this overwhelming sense of pleasure that floods your mind as you orgasm, convulsing around his fingers.

He licks you one last time and pulls himself up to you. His mouth glistens obscenely. Panting, you catch your breath.

“Good boy,” you say, voice a bit hoarse. You sit up and smirk. “Now, my turn.”

He grins. “Does this mean--” he strokes his length and you bite your lip as you take in sight the thick girth of his cock, the precome leaking from the head “--you’d like to suck me off?”

“No,” you reply, crawling over to him. You push him onto the sheets and straddle him. “I’m going to ride you.”

“Oh? For some reason I--”

“Shut it, playboy,” you say, hands splayed across his toned chest, and grind teasingly against the tip of his cock. Jungkook groans and presses his head against the pillow. “Less talking, more fucking, yeah?”

“F-uck,” he bites. He brings his hands to your hips, fingers sliding against sweaty skin. Deftly, you push his hands aside and roll your hips, earning another moan. “Ready, Kookie?”

And Jungkook relents, he gives in, resolve crumbling to nothing. He lets you ride him. You, sinking slowly down onto his length, muscles tightening around him. You, letting out sweet, satisfied moans as you adjust around him and then rub at your own nipples. He bucks his hips up involuntarily at the sight, so turned on and overly eager to get his release.

As you pick up the pace--breasts bouncing, movements getting erratic--Jungkook attempts to match it, bringing his hips upwards in motion with yours. As he senses you nearing your edge, he reaches slightly to rub at your clit roughly.

You squeak in surprise at first and the moan, pressing your hands firmly against his chest. “Jungkook...are you close yet?”

He grunts in response. God, he’s close. He’s right at the edge and it feels so fucking great…

“Cum inside of me if you are. Now.”

He doesn’t need anymore prompting before he releases, riding out the orgasm in rhythm to your hips. You cum soon enough, shuddering slightly and muscles squeezing tightly against his cock. Jungkook continues to rub at your clit to help prolong the orgasm.

“F--uck.”

With all the grace you can muster, you tumble off of him, your tipsy, fucked-out mind still buzzing with the warmth of all the pleasure. Jungkook grunts as he wraps an arm around you and tugs the covers up. You whine.

“Kook, I’m hot.”

“I know,” he says. He nips at your ear and you roll your eyes.

“I meant temperature wise.”

“You’ll be fine.” He doesn’t let go, and lets himself easily drift off into sleep. You snort and follow suit.

Skin feeling slightly sticky, throat dry, mind hazy, you fumble around in the sheets and groan upon seeing Jungkook’s sleeping face. Right in front of you, mere centimeters away. He lets out a puff of breath from his nostrils and it’s so utterly adorable it kinda makes you mad. You resist the urge to flick his forehead.

He hisses and immediately moves to cover his forehead. Impulse control is poor. Too bad for him that you don’t regret it, though. Probably wouldn’t ever. “Wha’ wassat fer?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. You retract your hand and shrug, propping yourself up on the pillow.

“Dunno. Good morning to you, sleeping beauty.” You hop out of the bed and stumble over to where your clothes are, a crumpled mess, flung about the room. One by one you pick them up whilst running a hand through your hair. It’s probably mess right now, just like you. And not a hot one, either.

“That’s right,” Jungkook says, flopping onto his side. “I’m the most beautiful man there is.”

You roll your eyes as you tug on your panties, clip your bra on. “That was sarcasm, dumbass.”

“No, it was the truth,” he murmurs into the pillow. He then turns his head to the side and manages to open his eyes, blinking them slowly as he watches you dress. You snort.

“Yeah right.”

He makes a whining noise and scrunches his nose in an adorable way. Runs a hand through his bedhead--now that’s a hot mess. You turn away to shrug your shirt on.

“We should continue this.”

You turn and give him a disbelieving look.

“I’m serious,” he says, propping himself up on the bed. The cover slides down his body, revealing his toned abdomen. “That was literally the best sex I’ve had in so long.”

“And what makes you think that was the best sex for me?” The emphasis on me comes mostly from the added grunt as you attempt to tug your pants up your kind of damp, alcohol-reeking, (frankly) not exactly appealing body (at least, at the moment).

“I--” he stops and turns his head away, embarrassed.

You laugh. “You’ve improved, Jeon.”

He looks at you shyly now. “Thanks? Uh, so…?”

You shrug. “If it’s just sex, that’s fine with me.” You look at him. “After all, commitment’s kinda scary.”

He looks happy, stares at you kind of mindlessly. A bit offsetting but nothing you can’t get used to. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Commitment’s kinda scary.”

a/n: oops i accidentally deleted the content of this fic when i was revamping my blog, so i re-filled it all in with an older version i had, which i edited. i couldn’t find the old gif so i left things as is!! oops

#networkbangtan #btswriters #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts #jungkook #writing #smut #fwb au #college au #playboy au #word for word #x: trying not to fail life #featured

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