#Love Letters Day 9 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdycheol · 2 months ago

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Love, On Air || Choi Seungcheol (valentine's special)

♡ Pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

♡ Genre: best friends to lovers, romance, fluff, slice of life

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

note: Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖 This is a special Valentine’s edition based on the poll results(so if you voted—congrats, you manifested this 👀). A massive shoutout to @facethesunflower for proofreading and making sure this didn’t turn into a total disaster. 😆 Hope you enjoy this fluffy, slightly dramatic, finally-they-confess moment.

Remember: if your best friend is acting suspiciously like Cherry… maybe it’s time to connect the dots. 👀💕

The clock hits 9 PM. You take a deep breath, adjusting the headphones on your ears as the familiar hum of the radio booth wraps around you. The room is small, dimly lit by the soft glow of the equipment and the neon sign flashing LIVE on the wall.

"Alright, we’re live in 3... 2... 1..."

Your hand hovers over the soundboard as you smile into the mic.

"Good evening, lovely listeners, and welcome back to The Heartbeat Hour, your go-to late-night show where we talk all things love, relationships, and everything in between," you say, your voice smooth and warm, like a cozy blanket on a cold night. "I’m your host, __ , and tonight is extra special because we’re in the heart of Valentine’s week. So, buckle up, folks—this week’s all about confessions, crushes, and, of course, giving you some advice to help you sort through your feelings."

You press the button for the first song request, the soft strains of a romantic ballad filling the room. As the music plays in the background, your eyes scan the requests that have been flooding in. The chat box is constantly ticking with messages—listeners asking for advice, sharing their love stories, or seeking songs that speak to their hearts. You feel that rush, the adrenaline of knowing you’re connected to so many people in real time.

"Now, I’ve got a message here from a listener who needs a little help," you say, pulling up the request. "This one’s from 'Cherry,' who writes in: ‘I’ve been crushing on someone for a while, but I’m not sure how to confess. Any advice?’"

You let out a small breath, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk as you think. This one’s a classic. You've seen it all before, but every confession still feels fresh. You smile softly into the mic.

"Ah, 'Cherry,' I get it. Confessing your feelings can be scary, but it’s also one of the most real things you can do. Here’s my advice: Keep it simple. No need for grand gestures, no elaborate speeches. Sometimes, the best way to let someone know how you feel is through a small, sincere gesture. Maybe write a note or give them a little gift that shows you’ve been thinking about them. And when you tell them how you feel, just be honest—there’s no such thing as a perfect confession. Just be you."

You pause, feeling the warmth of the words settle into your heart. The music swells in the background, adding to the ambiance of the moment.

"Remember, 'Cherry,' it’s not about getting it perfect—it’s about being brave enough to say it. And hey, the worst that can happen is they don’t feel the same way. But you know what? You’ve still won because you were true to yourself. So take a deep breath and go for it. You got this.”

You let the silence linger for a moment, Cherry’s words still hanging in the air. Then, with a small smile, you reached for the controls.

"Alright, Cherry, and everyone out there holding onto feelings they haven’t found the words for—this one’s for you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to say what’s in your heart, or at the very least, remind you that you’re not alone."

With a soft click, the studio filled with the delicate, wistful melody of "From the start" by Laufey—a song that is the ultimate friends to lovers song for all delusional daydreams.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced out at the city lights reflecting against the glass. Somewhere, maybe Cherry was listening, hesitating over a letter they weren’t sure they’d ever send. Or maybe, just maybe, they had already begun writing.

After an hour of song requests, confessions, and quiet laughter shared through the airwaves, the LIVE sign dims. You take off your headphones, stretching your neck as the studio falls into silence. Another night, another show wrapped up.

Gathering your notes, you stack them neatly before grabbing your now-lukewarm latte from the desk. The faint chatter of coworkers drifts through the halls—other RJs wrapping up, producers discussing schedules.

"Great show tonight, ___," someone calls out in passing.

"Thanks! See you tomorrow!" you reply with a small smile, pulling on your coat.

Near the exit, your producer glances up. "Don’t forget—tomorrow’s segment is longer for the Valentine’s special. Get some rest!"

"Got it. Night, everyone!"

Pushing open the station doors, you step into the cool night air. The city hums in the distance, but here, it’s quiet—still. You take a slow sip of your latte, savoring the warmth against the crisp breeze.

And then, just a few steps away, you see him.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets, Seungcheol watches you. The street lamp casts a soft glow over him, catching the faint curve of his lips.

You stop in front of Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

He tilts his head, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. "I was just passing through."

You narrow your eyes. "Passing through? Your workplace is nowhere near here."

"Okay, fine," he chuckles, pushing himself off the car. "I thought I’d pick you up. It’s been a while since we had dinner together."

"Ah, I see. You missed me." You smirk, taking another sip of your latte.

"Don’t flatter yourself, " he scoffs, but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head before walking around the car. "Alright, alright. Let’s go before you start crying about how I never have time for you."

He pulls open the passenger door for you with a teasing bow. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you slip inside, and he shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s seat.

As he starts the engine, Seungcheol glances at you. "Nice show today."

You blink. "Oh? What’s up, Choiseung? You’re complimenting me?" You raise an eyebrow, grinning.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Forget it. Should’ve just let you believe no one listens to your rambling at night."

"Too late. I’m taking this to heart forever," you joke, leaning back in your seat.

A few minutes into the drive, Seungcheol reaches into his coat pocket and hands you a neatly folded envelope.

"Here."

You glance at it, then at him. "What’s this?"

"Just open it."

Curious, you unfold the letter inside. His familiar handwriting stretches across the page, carefully written, filled with warmth. It’s a simple note—thanking you for being in his life, for always listening, for just being you.

Your heart softens as you read.

"Ohh, Cheol... this is so sweet. Thank you so much, friend." You smile, touched by the gesture.

The moment the word leaves your lips, he freezes—just for a second.

Then, with a short nod, he looks away, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah… friend." His voice is light, but something about it feels off.

You don’t notice. Or maybe, you just don’t understand.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, turning into a street. "We should hurry before the restaurant gets packed."

You let it go, tucking the letter safely into your bag as the city lights blur past.

Dinner is simple—warm bowls of stew and easy conversation. You catch up on each other’s lives, laugh over childhood memories, and argue over who should pay the bill (which Seungcheol wins, as always). It’s comfortable, familiar—just like it’s always been.

But every now and then, Seungcheol watches you with something unreadable in his gaze. Something just beneath the surface.

Later, he pulls up in front of your place.

"Thanks for dinner, Choiseung." You grin, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Yeah, yeah. You can pay next time."

"I’ll believe that when it happens." You laugh, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight!"

He waits until you disappear inside, only driving off once your lights flicker on.

And then he waits.

Seated in his car, he watches as your silhouette moves around the room. It’s only when your lights finally turn off that he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before driving away into the quiet night.

The next day passes in a blur of work, coffee, and the usual routine. You go through meetings, reply to emails, and try not to fall asleep at your desk. It’s just another regular day—until night falls, and you’re back in the studio, headphones on, mic live, slipping into the comfort of your show.

"And that was 'Moonlight' to set the mood for tonight," you say, adjusting the volume on the console. "Now, let’s see what’s on your mind, listeners. Late-night confessions, random thoughts, love letters—I'm here for it all."

A familiar name pops up in the chat, and you smile.

"Ah, a message from ‘Cherry’ again," you muse, skimming through it.

"So, Cherry says: ‘I wrote them my feelings, but I feel like they didn't get the hint. Any advice?’”

You lean back, thoughtful.

"Confessions are tricky, aren’t they? But if words feel too heavy, why not try something else?"

You pause, then smile.

"Here’s an idea—make a playlist. Fill it with songs that subtly express your feelings, and share it with them. You can name it something meaningful, like ‘For You’ or ‘Songs That Remind Me of You.’ Maybe they’ll get the hint, maybe they won’t, but either way… music has a way of saying what we can’t."

A soft melody plays as you set up the next song, your voice lowering.

"Speaking of confessions… Cherry, this one’s for you."

___

After the show, you gather your things, stretching as the familiar hum of the studio fades into the quiet of the night. Stepping outside, the cool air brushes against your skin—and there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting.

"You again?" You arch a brow, teasing.

Seungcheol smirks. "What can I say? Madam needs her personal chauffeur." He pushes off the car, opening the door for you with a playful grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you slide in. "More like my chauffeur needs his daily dose of validation."

He chuckles, shutting the door before rounding the car. "Can you blame me? Gotta make sure my most important passenger gets home safe."

You shake your head, biting back a smile as he starts the engine. The familiar warmth of routine settles between you, comfortable and unspoken.

As you drive, soft music fills the space—a melody unfamiliar yet strangely intimate. You pause, listening. It’s not his usual sound. Gone are the heavy beats and sharp rhythms he prefers. Instead, the speakers hum with gentle tunes, lyrics drenched in longing.

You glance at him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Since when did your taste in music change this much?"

His fingers flex over the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. "Dunno. Just felt like switching things up."

You hum along absentmindedly, letting the melody wrap around you, comforting in ways you don’t fully understand.

Seungcheol exhales quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, sneaking a glance your way. Because this playlist isn’t just a mix of songs—it’s a confession. One he can only hope you’ll hear.

As Seungcheol pulls up in front of your place, he shifts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to unlock the doors just yet. Instead, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, stealing a glance your way.

"__, since tomorrow’s the weekend... you wanna hang out?" His voice is casual, but there’s something just a little hesitant in the way he says it.

You turn to him, brows raised. "Sure. Where?"

Seungcheol clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. "Nothing much… just the amusement park. Maybe a café after, y’know."

You blink before breaking into a small smile. "Huh, it’s been a while since we’ve gone there."

He nods, still avoiding your eyes. "Yeah. Thought it might be fun."

You tilt your head, watching him for a second before nudging his arm. "Well, if you’re paying, I’m definitely in."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go overboard with the snacks."

You laugh, reaching for the door handle. "No promises. See you tomorrow, Choiseung."

As you step out, he waits, watching until your lights flicker on inside. Only then does he drive off, the soft hum of the playlist still playing in the background.

The next day, the weekend air carries a hint of excitement as you step outside, spotting Seungcheol waiting by his car. Dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, he looks effortlessly relaxed—except for the way he keeps checking his phone, as if trying to act nonchalant.

"Wow, you’re actually on time today," you tease, walking up to him.

He scoffs, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Please, I was born punctual."

You snort. "Sure, if 'punctual' means making me wait at least ten minutes every time."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes but opens the car door for you anyway, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just get in, before I make you walk to the amusement park."

You laugh, sliding in as he rounds the car. Soon, you're both on the road, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

"So, what’s the plan, tour guide?" you ask, glancing at him.

He shrugs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Nothing fancy. Just rides, food, and you trying not to chicken out on the roller coasters."

You gasp dramatically. "Excuse you, I do not chicken out—"

"You literally backed out last time," he deadpans, making you groan in protest.

The banter continues, filling the car with laughter as the amusement park comes into view, the vibrant lights and distant screams of thrill-seekers setting the perfect scene for the day ahead.

As Seungcheol parks the car, you glance at the towering rides ahead, the excited chatter of parkgoers filling the air.

"Alright, where to first?" he asks, stretching as he steps out of the car.

You scan the park, lips pursed in thought before pointing towards the roller coasters with a challenging grin. "Since you’re so confident, let’s start with that."

His eyes widen for a split second before he huffs. "I wasn’t the one who backed out last time, remember?"

You laugh, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. "Exactly. Time to redeem myself."

The line moves faster than expected, and soon, you're seated, the bar locking in place. You grip the handles tightly, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol. He looks relaxed, but the way he exhales deeply before the ride starts doesn’t go unnoticed.

The moment the coaster shoots forward, your screams mix with laughter, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you grip the bar for dear life. When it finally slows, you glance at Seungcheol, only to see him looking at you instead of the ride’s descent.

"What?" you ask, breathless.

He shakes his head, a small, fond smile on his lips. "Nothing. Just glad you didn’t chicken out this time."

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you both step off the ride, your legs slightly wobbly from the rush.

The day continues with more rides, playful bets on who can win the most arcade games (he cheats, you swear), and an unnecessary but hilarious attempt at a claw machine.

"Face it, I'm just naturally gifted," he boasts, tossing you a small stuffed bear.

"Naturally full of it, maybe," you grumble, but take the bear anyway, hugging it to your chest.

Finally, as the night settles, you both find yourselves on the Ferris wheel, the gentle hum of the ride filling the comfortable silence. The city sprawls below, glowing under the streetlights, and in the distance, fireworks begin to bloom in the sky.

"Didn’t think today would be this fun," you admit, leaning back against the seat, the cool glass behind you a contrast to the warmth in your chest.

Seungcheol glances at you, something unreadable in his expression. He exhales softly, his fingers tapping against his knee.

"Yeah... I, uh—" He hesitates, licking his lips, his voice quieter now. "There's actually something I—"

But before he can finish, a particularly loud firework crackles in the sky, painting the cabin in flickering colors. You turn quickly, eyes lighting up as you take in the view.

"Oh, look at that one! It’s so pretty" you say, completely missing the way Seungcheol sighs, his half-spoken words swallowed by the moment.

He leans back, running a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze lingering on you instead of the fireworks. "It is pretty."

Eventually, you both find yourselves at a cozy café just outside the park, the scent of coffee and pastries filling the air.

After placing your order, Seungcheol suddenly pushes back his chair. “Be right back,” he says, flashing a quick smile before heading toward the counter.

You don’t think much of it, scrolling through your phone until the waiter returns with your drinks. As they set your cup down, you notice the delicate heart design floating atop the foam.

You tilt your head, stirring it slightly with your spoon. “Oh? Is this some kind of Valentine’s special?” you ask, amused. “Did you get one too?”

Seungcheol, who’s just returned to his seat, glances at his own plain coffee and shrugs. “Yeah… no.”

You raise a brow. “Huh. Guess they just like me more.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink, but you don’t notice the way he hides his small, satisfied smile. Because the truth is, he had asked for that heart—just for you.

The next evening, the soft glow of the studio lights casts a warm hue as you settle into your seat, adjusting your headphones. Outside, the city hums with life, but a sudden downpour has turned the streets into shimmering reflections of neon signs.

"Looks like we’re in for an unexpected downpour tonight," you say, adjusting your headphones with a small chuckle. "So if you're heading home, grab an umbrella—or better yet, find someone who’ll share theirs with you—if not, maybe this is your chance for a classic movie moment. You know, the whole ‘one umbrella, two people’ thing."

With a quick tap, you queue up a slow, dreamy melody.

"Wherever you are tonight—rushing through the rain or just watching it fall—I hope this keeps you warm. Stay safe out there." As the song plays, you sit back, stretching your arms with a sigh.

As the show wraps up, you take off your headphones, letting out a small sigh as the last song fades into silence. The studio, once filled with the hum of voices and music, now feels still. Gathering your things, you push open the door, stepping into the quiet hallway.

Outside, the rain still falls in soft sheets, blurring the glow of streetlights. You pause near the entrance, rummaging through your bag. No umbrella. Right. You meant to bring one this morning, but in the rush, it completely slipped your mind.

You pause at the entrance, contemplating making a run for it, when a familiar voice calls out.

"Figured you’d forget yours."

You blink as Seungcheol steps forward, holding out an umbrella, his usual smirk in place. His hair is slightly damp, his coat dusted with droplets, like he had hurried here without much thought.

A small flutter, barely noticeable, stirs in your chest. You shake it off with a teasing smile. "What, no chauffeur duty today?"

He chuckles, tucking a hand into his pocket. "Uhh, not tonight. I have to stay late for that project."

You tilt your head, a little surprised. "So you came all the way here just to give me this?" You motion toward the umbrella in your hand.

"Yeah," he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Before you can say anything else, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, sighs, then looks back at you. "I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

You nod, watching as he jogs toward his car, the red taillights fading into the rain.

For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the umbrella a little tighter. You don’t know why, but the weight of it in your hands feels different.

Then, shaking off the thought, you open it and step into the rain, heading home.

As morning arrives, the first thing that comes to mind is Seungcheol. You blink at your phone, thumb hovering over his contact.

Texting him isn’t anything new—you’ve done it countless times before. But for some reason, tonight, it feels… different. Maybe it’s your coworker’s words still echoing in your head, or maybe it’s the way he’s been occupying your thoughts more than usual.

Before you can overthink it, you start typing.

You: Did you get home okay?

A second passes. Then another. You bite your lip, debating whether to add something else.

You: And did you even sleep well? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night working.

You press send before hesitation can creep in. Almost instantly, the dots appear.

Seungcheol: Wow, checking up on me? I must be special.

You roll your eyes, already imagining the smug grin on his face.

You: Forget I asked.

Seungcheol: Wait, wait— I did sleep. Kinda. Had a long day, but I’m home now.

You: Good. Don’t overwork yourself.

Your fingers hover over the screen for a beat before you add one last message.

This time, he takes a little longer to respond.

Seungcheol: You too.

You lock your phone, exhaling softly as you sink into your pillow.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. But the warmth unfurling in your chest suggests otherwise.

At work, the usual hum of chatter fills the office. You’re halfway through your emails when a coworker slides into the seat beside you, a teasing grin already in place.

"I saw you yesterday," they start, leaning in slightly. "With a guy. Was he your boyfriend?"

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

"What? No!" The denial is immediate, instinctive. Too quick. You clear your throat, forcing a casual shrug. "Just a friend."

Your coworker chuckles, clearly amused. "Mmm, sure. You should’ve seen your face just now."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Oh, please. It’s not like that."

They raise an eyebrow, smirking as they lean against your desk. "Right. Just a friend, huh?"

You roll your eyes, waving them off, but as they walk away, their words linger.

Just a friend.

You’ve said it a hundred times before. So why does it feel different now?

The soft glow of the studio lights wraps around you like a familiar embrace as you settle in for another night on air. The playlist hums in the background, filling the quiet spaces between your thoughts as you scroll through messages from listeners.

One catches your eye.

“I think I’ve fallen for my best friend. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, creeping realization. One day, I caught myself smiling at my phone just because they texted me. I don’t know if they feel the same, and I’m scared to lose what we have. What do I do?"

You hesitate for a moment, the words settling heavier than they should. There’s a flicker of something familiar in them, something that makes you sit up a little straighter.

You take a breath and lean toward the mic. “That’s… complicated,” you begin, your voice even, steady. “Falling for a best friend is tricky. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One day, they’re just… them. The same person they’ve always been. And then suddenly, everything feels different.”

Your breath catches slightly. A part of you wants to laugh at the timing, but instead, you clear your throat and lean into the mic.

You exhale softly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your notes. "I think the scariest part isn’t even confessing—it’s the thought of what happens after. What if they don’t feel the same? What if things change? But… at the same time, isn’t it worth knowing? Isn’t it better than wondering ‘what if’ forever?"

The words come naturally, maybe a little too naturally, and you catch yourself mid-sentence, blinking at the realization. Your fingers tighten slightly around the papers in front of you.

You shake it off with a light laugh. "Anyway, I’m not a love expert. But if you’re listening… maybe ask yourself this—would you rather take the risk or live with the regret?"

As the segment transitions, you queue up the next song, the soft melody of Can't Help Falling in Love by Kina Grannis filling the airwaves. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

The idea of a team dinner had been floating around the office for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that your producer finally put his foot down.

“We’re going,” he declared, arms crossed as he leaned against your desk. “No more excuses, no more ‘let’s do it next week.’ Tonight, we eat.”

Your coworker snickered, spinning lazily in their chair. “You just don’t want to go home and cook.”

“Exactly,” he admitted shamelessly. “Besides, it’s been a while since we all hung out outside of work. You in?”

You hesitated for a beat, glancing at your screen before sighing. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’m in.”

And that was that. A few hours later, you found yourself walking toward the restaurant with the rest of your team, the air buzzing with conversation. Your producer was still arguing about food, insisting that this place was “decent at best” while another team member defended it with an almost personal level of passion.

You laughed at their banter, falling into step behind them—until something made you slow down.

A familiar figure stood just outside the restaurant, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Even before he turned, you knew who it was.

Seungcheol.

Your brows lifted slightly in amusement. “Are you a stalker?” you teased as you approached. “You’re literally everywhere I go.”

He turned toward you, chuckling under his breath. “No, I’m here with someone. My cli—”

“Shall we go?”

The voice belonged to a woman who stepped up beside him, her posture poised, her tone polite. She looked… elegant. The kind of effortless elegance that didn’t even need to try.

Your gaze flickered between them, something unreadable tightening in your chest before you smoothed your expression. “Who…”

The woman met your eyes and smiled. “Oh, I’m Lee Hana. I’m working with Seungcheol on a project.”

You nodded, lips curving into something light, something easy, even as something else tugged inside you. “Right. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer than it should. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” you blinked, shifting slightly. “Our team is having dinner.” You motioned toward the restaurant behind you. “You know, bonding and all that.”

He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Hana touched his arm lightly. “Shall we?”

There was a pause—brief, barely there—before he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” Then he glanced at you again. “Bye, then. Have fun.”

And then he was gone, walking away with her at his side.

You watched them leave, something unspoken pressing against your ribs. It’s not jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. But the feeling stayed anyway.

A voice broke through your thoughts. “Oh, isn’t he the umbrella guy?”

You turned to see your coworker standing beside you, glancing after Seungcheol with mild curiosity before their gaze shifted back to you. “Did he come here with a woman?”

You said nothing, but that seemed to be enough of an answer.

They hummed knowingly. “You really must be just friends.” And with that, they walked inside.

You stayed there a second longer, staring at the spot where Seungcheol had just been, before shaking yourself out of it and following them in.

The night air is crisp as you walk back home, the sounds of the city buzzing softly in the background. Your team dinner had ended a while ago, but instead of feeling full and satisfied, there’s a strange heaviness in your chest—a weight you don’t quite understand.

As you turn the corner to your apartment complex, you slow down, your steps faltering.

There, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, is Seungcheol.

Your brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”

At your voice, he straightens, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t look well back at the restaurant,” he says, his tone light but laced with something else—concern, maybe. “So, I thought I’d check on you.”

You blink at him. “You drove all the way here for that?”

He shrugs. “It’s not far.”

Liar. His office is nowhere near your place.

There’s a brief pause. The usual banter is on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, the words don’t come out as easily tonight. Maybe it’s because he actually showed up. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what to do with the way your heart stutters at the sight of him standing there, waiting for you.

You shift your weight. “Do you… want to come in for coffee?”

At that, he chuckles, shaking his head. “Coffee? At this time?” He tilts his head at you, amused. “You must really hate me if you don’t want me to sleep tonight.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then I’ll give you plain water. Just come in.”

His lips twitch into a smirk before he pushes himself off the car. “If you insist.”

And just like that, he follows you inside.

The door clicks shut behind you as you step inside, flipping on the lights. The familiar warmth of your home settles around you, but with Seungcheol standing in your living room, it suddenly feels… different.

“You can sit,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the couch as you move toward the kitchen.

He hums in response, wandering over but not immediately sitting down. Instead, he looks around, eyes flickering to the small details of your space—the stack of books on the coffee table, the blanket draped lazily over the couch, the half-full cup on the counter from this morning.

“By the way,” you start, keeping your voice casual as you pour warm milk, “who was that woman earlier?”

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment, but when he answers, it’s after a slight pause. “Just a client. I’m handling a project for her company.”

“Ah.” You nod, stirring the coffee a little too forcefully. “Looked like you guys were close.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Are you interrogating me right now?”

You scoff, bringing the mugs over to the table and handing him one. “No. Just making conversation.”

You drop onto the couch beside him, curling your legs under you. He’s been here so many times before, and yet tonight, the usual comfort feels a little different—like you’re hyper-aware of the way he leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the way he watches you over the rim of his mug.

“You seemed off earlier,” he says after a beat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you lie, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Seungcheol doesn’t press, just tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s figuring out a puzzle. “If you say so.”

After a while, he stretches, glancing at the time. “I should go.”

You nod, following him to the door. He lingers for a second, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Text me when you wake up, yeah?”

You frown. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just ‘cause.”

You roll your eyes, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes your chest tighten. “Fine.”

He smirks. “Good.”

And then, with a small wave, he’s gone.

You stand there for a second, staring at the closed door, fingers curling tightly around your cup.

The theater is dim, the soft glow from the screen casting flickering lights across Seungcheol’s face. The film has barely begun, but the hum of quiet conversations and the rustling of popcorn bags fill the space around you.

You’re not sure who suggested this movie. Maybe he did. Maybe you did. Maybe it was just one of those things—where he casually texted, "Movie?" and you didn’t even think before replying, "Sure."

The movie plays, but your focus wavers. You’re aware of him. Of the way his shoulder is just barely brushing yours. The way his fingers drum lazily against his knee. The way he shifts slightly every now and then, getting comfortable.

And then, his hand moves to the popcorn bag between you.

Your fingers accidentally graze his. Just for a second.

You don’t think much of it—until it happens again.

The second time, neither of you pull away immediately. It’s not intentional, not deliberate. Just… a pause. A moment that lingers for a beat too long before he finally retracts his hand.

Your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression neutral.

A few more scenes pass. You’re getting lost in the film when suddenly—

A jump scare.

It’s sudden enough that your breath catches, and before you can stop yourself, your hand darts out, grasping the closest thing—his arm.

Seungcheol doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say a word. Just glances down at your fingers curled around his sleeve.

You realize what you’ve done a second too late. Heat creeps up your neck as you start to pull away.

But then—

His arm shifts just slightly, just enough that your hand slides from his sleeve to his wrist, fingertips brushing against his skin.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The moment stretches, unspoken, unacknowledged. Not quite intentional. But not exactly not intentional, either.

And suddenly, the movie is the least interesting thing in the room.

The movie ends, and the crowd slowly shuffles toward the exits. You stretch your arms as you step out of the dimly lit theater, the cool night air greeting you.

"That wasn’t as scary as I thought," you say, glancing at Seungcheol.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sure. That explains why you nearly ripped my sleeve off."

You roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "That was one time."

He smirks. "Uh-huh. And what about the other time? And the time after that?"

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real bite behind it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Okay, whatever. Where are we eating?" You change the subject swiftly, and Seungcheol hums, pretending to think.

"Ramen?" he suggests.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, and you nod. "Sounds good."

It’s a short walk to the small ramen shop tucked away on a quieter street. The place is cozy, warm, and familiar—one of those late-night spots you’ve both ended up in more times than you can count. The moment you step inside, the comforting aroma of broth and spices fills the air.

Seungcheol orders for both of you, as he always does, rattling off your usual without even asking. The cashier doesn’t even blink, already used to it by now.

You shake your head with a small smile. "One day, I’m going to switch things up just to mess with you."

He leans against the counter, grinning. "No, you won’t."

He’s right, and you hate that he knows it.

The two of you settle into a booth, the conversation flowing easily between bites of food. Seungcheol steals a piece of your fish cake without asking. You retaliate by swiping a sip of his drink. It's effortless, familiar.

By the time you step back outside, the streets are quieter. The late hour drapes the city in a peaceful hush, the occasional headlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

Neither of you say much as you walk, but it isn’t an awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when words aren’t needed.

At some point, Seungcheol slows his pace, falling into step beside you instead of slightly ahead.

The street lights flicker above, the air crisp but not too cold. You rub your hands together out of habit.

A beat passes before Seungcheol exhales through his nose and, without a word, reaches out.

His hand brushes yours, just barely.

You think it might be an accident until he does it again.

This time, he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

The apartment is quiet when you step inside, the familiar space wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. You toe off your shoes, set your bag down, and exhale, as if the night still clings to your skin. The soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound filling the air, but your mind is anything but quiet.

You wander into the kitchen on autopilot, reaching for a glass, but your fingers hesitate over the cabinet handle. The thought slips in, uninvited.

What if he already knows?

The question lingers, settling into the corners of your mind like an echo. You shake your head as if that alone could shove it away, but it doesn’t work.

Maybe it’s the way he laughed tonight—soft, genuine, like the sound itself belonged to you. Or the way he leaned in closer, just enough that his warmth almost touched you. Maybe it’s nothing at all, just the way he exists around you—familiar, steady, yet suddenly… different.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to chase the feeling away, but it’s stubborn. Because now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t unsee it. Every teasing remark, every lingering glance, every small, meaningless moment—it’s all been leading to this.

And the worst part?

You don’t even know when it started.

You sink onto the couch, pressing the cool glass against your palm, grounding yourself. You try to convince yourself it’s nothing. You’ve always been close. He’s always been there.

But tonight, when his hand brushed yours and he didn’t pull away… when he said goodnight like he meant something else…

Your heart had stuttered.

You bite your lip, staring at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to settle.

...What if he already knows?

The studio is quiet except for the soft hum of the equipment. The city lights flicker through the window, casting faint shadows against the booth. You scroll through the messages, eyes landing on a familiar name.

Cherry.

“I tried everything you said—gave them a letter, took them out, spent so much time together. And honestly? I swear they like me too. But… nothing. What do I do?"

You let out a breath, tapping your fingers lightly against the desk.

"Okay, first of all—don’t give up. I know it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t read between the lines, but sometimes, people need things to be said plainly. No metaphors, no subtlety. Just… real words."

You lean back slightly, eyes flickering toward the dim window of the booth, where the city blurs in the distance.

"Because here’s the thing—what if they do feel the same way? What if they’re just as scared as you are? Wouldn’t you rather know than spend your days wondering?"

The words come easily, almost too easily, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re really just talking to Cherry anymore.

You exhale and push forward.

"So here’s my advice, Cherry. Tell them. No hints, no half-confessions. Just look them in the eyes and say, ‘I like you.’ And if they don’t feel the same? At least you’ll know. At least you won’t have to live with ‘what if.’"

Your hand hovers over the controls for a moment longer than necessary before finally pressing the next song cue.

The melody flows through the studio, soft and steady. And yet, your heart is thudding slightly faster than it should.

The night air is cool against your skin as you step out of the building, the faint hum of the city filling the quiet. Work is done for the day, your coworkers already heading their separate ways after a few lingering goodbyes.

You stretch your arms slightly, exhaling as you adjust the strap of your bag—only to freeze mid-motion.

He’s there.

Standing just outside the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket—except for one, which lingers behind his back, hiding something.

Your heart stirs, something instinctive. “Seungcheol?”

His lips twitch in a small, almost nervous smile. “Hey.”

“You’re waiting for me?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, stepping toward him.

“Yeah.” A soft exhale. “I had to.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Why?”

Seungcheol hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then, with a slow exhale, he pulls his hand from behind his back—revealing a bouquet of flowers, delicate and vibrant under the streetlights.

Your breath catches.

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your breath catches.

He holds it out to you, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but... I saw this and thought of you.”

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

The world feels like it slows down.

His eyes flicker with something—uncertainty, vulnerability, an honesty so raw it makes your chest tighten.

“I tried not to,” he continues, voice steadier now. “I thought maybe it would pass, that maybe we were just friends and I was misreading things. But then you started showing up in my thoughts at the most random times. I’d hear a song and think of you. I’d pass a café and wonder if you’d like their coffee. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it… it was always you.”

Your fingers tighten around the flower.

“So I’m done pretending.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

You swallow, fingers tightening around the flower as your heart stumbles over itself. The weight of his words settles over you—not heavy, not suffocating, but something warm, something undeniable.

For a long moment, you don’t speak. You don’t know if you can.

Seungcheol watches you carefully, his usual confidence laced with something softer, something uncertain. You can tell he’s waiting, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

So you inhale slowly, steadying yourself.

“You—” Your voice falters slightly before you clear your throat. “You’ve liked me for a long time?”

He nods, lips curving into a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah.” A beat. “I thought you knew.”

Your breath catches.

Did you?

You think back—to the lingering glances, the easy laughter, the way he’s always been there, steady and constant. The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. The way your heart has been shifting, your feelings unraveling into something you weren’t ready to name.

“I…” You pause, lips parting, your heart beating so fast it’s dizzying. And then you laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid.”

Seungcheol blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

You meet his eyes, and this time, there’s no doubt, no hesitation.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

For a second, everything is still.

Then Seungcheol lets out a sharp breath—a laugh, almost disbelieving—and suddenly, that teasing smile you know so well is back, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something real. Something unshakable.

“Yeah?” His voice is quieter, laced with something warm.

You nod, lips pressing together. “Yeah.”

And then, he pulls you in—his hand resting at the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair.

His lips press against yours, gentle at first, then firmer, like he’s been holding this in for too long. His other hand stays over yours, the bouquet still between you, petals brushing against your skin.

The city buzzes in the background, but all you can hear is the quiet rush of your own heartbeat. And in that moment, with his warmth, his touch, his everything—

It just feels right.

You pull away just enough to look at him, breathless, your forehead still resting against his. His hands remain on your waist, warm and grounding, as if neither of you wants to let go just yet.

And honestly? You don’t think you ever want to.

A soft laugh escapes you, light and airy. “You know… a listener of mine also loves their best friend,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly. “They tried everything—subtle hints, letters, taking them out—but their best friend was too dense to get it.”

Seungcheol chuckles, his thumb brushing over your wrist. “Sounds familiar.”

“Right?” You sigh dramatically. “So, I told them to just confess. No hints, no half-confessions, just… real words.”

He hums, nodding thoughtfully. “Good advice.”

“Yeah,” you grin, looking up at him. “I wonder how it went for them.”

Seungcheol pauses for a second, then leans in just a little, his voice playful yet quiet. “I’d say pretty well.”

You blink. “Huh?”

His lips quirk up, and suddenly, the way he’s looking at you feels a little too knowing.

And then, before you can process it, he says it—just two words, but they hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I know.”

You stare. “What?”

He grins, tapping a finger against your forehead lightly. “Your listener. Cherry.”

Your brows furrow. The pieces are there, but your brain refuses to connect them. “What about them?”

He hesitates, as if savoring the moment, before finally confessing, “It’s me.”

Silence.

You tilt your head, processing his words. “...You’re Cherry?”

Seungcheol nods, clearly holding back a laugh at your expression.

For a second, you just stand there, staring at him.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, you lightly smack him with the bouquet in your hands.

“Ow—hey!” He feigns pain, stumbling back slightly, but the wide grin on his face betrays him.

“You idiot!” You hit him again, though there’s no real force behind it. “You made me give love advice for your own confession?”

He catches your wrist, still laughing. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can retaliate, he tugs you forward, pulling you into another hug.

This time, it feels different.

Familiar, warm, but with something new. Something neither of you have to question anymore.

You sigh against his shoulder, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you.”

He grins. “Believe it, Baby.”

1K notes · View notes

dailynnt · 3 days ago

Text

NOT THEIR WEDDING CAR

๋࣭ Summary: At your sister Ma Ri’s wedding, as her maid of honor, you stand next to Jungkook, the groom Jimin's chauffeur his best friend. Jungkook’s presence brings you back to the past, when he used to bully you at school, despite your secret feelings for him. The evening takes an unexpected turn when you try to avoid the dance and run away, and Jungkook follows you. He offers you sex without obligation, and instead of refusing and walking away, you take him up on his offer. And he can't think of a better place to do it as the wedding car of the newlyweds. Not their wedding car becomes a place to release your long-hidden feelings and passion.

๋࣭ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

๋࣭ Age restrictions: 18+

๋࣭ Size: one shot

๋࣭ Tags: from enemies to lovers (but not quite), wedding atmosphere, school years (mention), internal conflict, jealousy, sexual tension, detailed description of intimate scenes, swearing, dom!Jungkook, sex, unprotected sex, refusal to orgasm, happy ending?

๋࣭ From author: Well guys, it's me again with a new story for you. Honestly, I'm so nervous to post it for you because I don't really know if you're going to like it. The idea for this fanfic came to me after I was talking to my sister about her wedding (She's not getting married, it was just a purely theoretical conversation). I wrote this story with such passion, and then I gave it to my sister to read, and she criticized it, to put it mildly. I was supposed to post this story two days ago, but when I heard that this fic has a 'Jungkook-bastard' (because of the letter situation) I thought hard about whether it was worth posting 😩 I rewrote this story a little differently and DECIDED to post it. I hope you like it as much as I do 🥺 I put my soul into this story 🥹 Give me a few words in the comments how you like it 🙏🏻 And a few more words about "One Night..." I have half of chapter 9, but something happened to my inspiration and I can't finish it 🫨 But I promise I will post it soon because I see how much you love this story 🥺🥰 I thank you my dear army for your support and love 💘 I bow low and appreciate everyone 💜❤️‍🔥

๋࣭ Dedication: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie my biggest love ❤️‍🔥

๋࣭ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹 The text describes intimate scenes in detail, so if you are under 18, please do not read this story! It is also important to remind you that safe sex is protected sex!

"Did it really happen?!" shouted Jin, approaching the newlyweds with a box in his hands. He was wearing an elegant black tuxedo, and his wife was next to him in a delicate lavender dress. Her look harmoniously complemented the wedding palette chosen by your sister Ma Ri.

You, wearing the same colour dress, stood next to Jungkook, the groom's chauffeur and Jimin's best longtime friend. But every cell in your body was tense. You tried to remain calm, but his presence seemed to scratch you from the inside out.

From the moment you learned that he would be part of the ceremony, you felt an old anxiety stirring in your chest. And although you promised yourself to leave the past behind-your sister's wedding, happiness, love, the beauty of the evening-all of this was supposed to overshadow his figure...

Still, every meeting you had during the wedding preparations left a residue in you. During each meeting before the wedding, he looked at you - attentively, calmly, his gaze was too studying. But you were good at pretending not to notice.

Now that he was standing next to you, you couldn't just ignore him. His warmth was palpable, the scent of his perfume was wafting on the wind, and you secretly enjoyed it every time.

But suddenly you felt Jungkook's chest touching your back. He was accepting a gift from the guests, and by accident-or on purpose-he touched you. You looked back at him, even though you didn't want to.

It seemed as if your brain refused to work-everything in you reminded you that this was the same Jeon Jungkook. The guy who had once trampled on your youthful feelings and forced you to defend yourself for years.

In those school days, you were quiet, invisible, a little strange to others. You loved literature, art, and captured the smallest details of the world around you. And he... he was the star of the sports team. Cheerful, noisy, always in the center of attention. But at some point, it was you he paid attention to, started mocking, teasing, calling you a "nerd," stealing your food or book, making loud jokes about your clothes. Others were laugh, and you burned inside-not only with resentment, but also with feelings that you were afraid to admit even to yourself. Because you liked him. You liked him a lot.

But everything changed one day. You decided that a guy like Jungkook shouldn't occupy your thoughts, he shouldn't be a person you like, because he sees you as just a subject for fun. You got tougher with him, started snapping at him, but it backfired and Jungkook started showing up more often and teasing you more than before.

Your sympathy for Namjoon, your neighbor in literature class, was an attempt to forget about Jungkook. To calm your heart. Namjoon was different: smart, calm, attentive. You talked a lot about books, discussed poetry, and eventually you thought you could become something more. And you decided to do it. You wrote a love letter on Valentine's Day to confess your feelings to him, dreaming that maybe he liked you too.

But that letter did not reach Namjoon. He didn't come to school, and you carried that letter with you in your backpack, intending to put it in Namjoon's locker after school.

But Jungkook made your confession public. He pulled your love letter out of your backpack and read it out loud in front of the whole class.

You walked into the classroom and heard him standing in the center of the classroom reading the last lines of your letter.

"Namjoon-ah, I hope our feelings are mutual, but if not, I will always be on your side."

He laughed, everyone laughed. And you stood there, stunned, feeling your heart clench and your eyes fill with tears. Then you decided: never again. No more trust. Not to open up. Especially not to him.

And now - six years later - he is standing next to you again. In his usual manner: with a smile, with the same energy, as if nothing had happened.

"Jungkook, kid," Jin clapped him on the shoulder. "You and Y/N look more like brides than themselves brides!"

Laughter erupted around you. You tried to put on a smile, but every muscle in your body resisted. Everyone was having fun, but you wanted to disappear. You automatically looked at your sister, and Ma Ri was smiling guiltily, saying: "Hold on, please..."

"Your jokes are as flat as the floor, as usual." Jungkook laughed as he led Jin and his wife to the table.

"Y/N, think about it: Jungkook is the perfect husband. He cooks delicious food, is caring, attentive..." Jin babbled on while Jungkook, smiling, gently pushed him in the back.

"I'll think about it..." you shouted. And as Jin walked away, you grumbled under your breath. "In my next life. If I go crazy."

"I wouldn't wait for the next life. I'm good in this one," a low voice said above your ear.

You flinched. You didn't expect him to be so close. You turned sharply and met his gaze. That smile. The same playfulness that had once made your cheeks flush-but then you'd thought it was mockery.

You took a half-step back, feeling your heart pounding furiously. And at that moment, Namjoon appeared, smiling, with his wife by his side. She was pregnant, looking happy and calm. Their love was obvious.

Your soul cracked once again.

Namjoon hugged you warmly, like an old friend. And you... you just couldn't forget. After all, it was he who, though not intentionally, had triggered that greatest humiliation.

Jungkook was your happy to see his school friend. He was smiling. He hugged Namjoon like a brother. And maybe he didn't even remember what he did to you six years ago.

But for you... it still hurt.

The evening had long since turned informal: the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and the sky was lit with the first stars. The guests no longer needed to observe any formalities - laughter was heard from every corner, glasses clinked with champagne and wine, and dancing picked up speed to the rhythmic music pouring from distant speakers.

It was about ten in the evening when you found yourself at the table, feeling tired in every cell. Heels no longer felt like a weapon of beauty, but like torture. You unconsciously rubbed your ankles before finally changing into sneakers, breathing a sigh of relief.

Champagne cooled your palm, and a sip of alcohol softened your thoughts. It was easy. Too easy... Until your brain brought you back to one name.

Jungkook.

His smile haunted you all night. Ruthless, confident, irritatingly calm. He would appear out of nowhere, invading your personal space, meeting your eyes, or sitting too close. It could not help but annoy. But... something inside did not resist as much as it should have.

One more sip and you held the glass and concentrated on forgetting about him. But even the alcohol was not strong enough to drown out the magnet he had become for your thoughts.

When slow music started playing and Jimin announced into the microphone that it was time for a couple dance, you instantly felt that someone would definitely come to ask you to dance. But you had neither the energy nor the desire to do it. Instead of waiting, you picked up the phone and slipped out into the restaurant's backyard.

As you walked past the guests chatting outside, you noticed Hoseok and Taehyung smiling. They waved at you - Taehyung beckoned you to join them, but you made up an excuse, saying you had to make an urgent call. In reality, you just didn't want to take any chances: Jungkook could appear at any second, and you already felt like there were too many of him that evening.

At the end of the garden, on the territory of the restaurant, there was a small swing covered with green ivy. Silence, comfort, the evening scent of summer - it was a corner of peace. You heard muffled voices from the parking lot, which was hidden behind a hedge.

The swing creaked softly as you sat down. You took a deep breath... and for the first time that day, you really relaxed. The events of the day had taken too much out of you - you dreamed of a shower, a bed, and of being relieved of the burden of being a "maid of honor."

Flipping through the news feed on your phone, you didn't immediately notice Jungkook coming from the corner of the parking lot. He walked slowly but confidently, with the same calm strength in his steps that always made you nervous. When he saw you, he raised his eyebrows, as if a little surprised, but not confused. Just interested.

"I thought I was the only one who found this place," he said, coming closer. His voice sounded easy, but his eyes said something else. He was looking at you with undisguised interest.

You shrugged your shoulders, ignoring his words. Your silence didn't stop him - of course not.

Jungkook sat down next to you uninvited. The swing was tight, so your thighs almost touched. He spread his legs wide, leaving no space between you.

His movements weren't forced - he acted as if he owned the place. As if he didn't need your permission.

His right hand was thrown over the back of the swing, and he held a glass of champagne in his left. You tried to keep your distance, but he leaned a little closer.

"Would you like a drink?" his voice was even, almost gentle.

"It's your glass," you answered, not taking your eyes off his fingers that were holding the stem of the glass.

"I just took it. I haven't drunk it yet. If you want..." he held it out to you.

You looked at it silently for a few seconds and then took it. A little more alcohol wouldn't hurt, you thought, trying to erase the tension between you.

You took a few sips, looking at the landscape in front of you. Jungkook was sitting next to you, not looking away.

He was close to you again. Too close. His gaze was filled with something heavy, and with every passing minute, he could feel how your silence was only increasing the tension between you. You didn't even realize that his appearance here was no accident.

As soon as Jimin announced the slow dance, Jungkook moved in your direction to invite you, but you left the room before he could approach you. He followed, saw how you avoided Taehyung and Hoseok, and seemed to want to avoid him as well. But he was looking for this meeting.

He couldn't explain how it happened, but you were back on his mind. You had changed. You were not the same as when you were at school. You looked even more beautiful than he remembered. It confused him - at the same time, it made him admire and annoyed.

Why couldn't he forget you? Why did even your eyes make him nervous?

He remembered the time when you were just walking by, so quiet, calm, and unruffled. And despite the fact that almost every girl was trying to attract his attention, you didn't. You didn't seem to notice him at all.

He pretended not to care how you laughed at Namjoon's jokes, but inside he was cramping with jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. It was only when he found that fucking love letter in your backpack, which he wanted to be addressed to him and not to the other one, that he was really angry.

He had no right to read it. But he read it anyway. He wanted to punish you for not paying any attention to him, a guy who showed a lot of interest in you. He did it because you were out of his reach.

He knew that you would hate him. And his soul was torn when you started avoiding him even more. But now, sitting so close, after all these years, he felt something completely different. More than just jealousy.

You were sitting just centimeters away. And your every movement, your every breath, even the trembling of your hand with the champagne glass-everything mattered.

"Did you come here to avoid dancing?" Jungkook finally said.

You quickly glanced at him and took a sip of alcohol.

"No. I just wanted to get some fresh air," you answered, even though you both knew it wasn't true.

Jungkook rocked the swing with his foot, which helped him to contain the maelstrom of emotions inside.

"You've changed, Y/N," he said softly, as if in passing. In fact, he wanted to know something completely different, but he couldn't get to the point right away. "At school, you looked like a gray mouse. And now... now you look amazing."

You hummed, raising an eyebrow.

"A compliment with a side of insult. It's your style."

"And you're still as prickly as ever." Jungkook tilted his head a little closer to your side, and you felt the air between you grow thick. "Harsh, but honest. In high school, you were too quiet... and cute. And now I can't look away."

His voice sounded calm, almost casual, but his eyes were studying your face. And when you looked away, he noticed. He liked it. More than he should have.

"You don't have to pretend like you care about what I've become," you replied coldly, not meeting his eyes.

"But if I do?" his voice became a little lower, velvety.

You laughed mockingly, and it hurt Jungkook more than he wanted to show.

"I would advise you not to be interested in me. Because it's obvious that you haven't changed."

"So you're still mad at me? Because of that letter?" he smiled defiantly, guessing. You were outraged by his behavior and raised your eyebrows.

"Wouldn't you be offended if someone got into your backpack and read something very personal?"

"I'm not defending what I did. But tell me honestly, you didn't think I did it out of malice, did you?, did you?" his voice became deeper, a little hoarse. "I was genuinely surprised that you liked Namjoon..."

"Why wouldn't I like him? What's so surprising about that?" you asked. Jungkook felt his heart speed up, and jealousy stabbed him again.

"I don't know," he shrugged, then took your glass from your hand and took a sip without looking away. "Why haven't you ever looked at me as someone you might be interested in?"

You blinked, stunned by his words. It was so unexpected, as if the ground had slipped from under your feet.

"You've always mocked me... Do I look like a masochist?"

"Mocking? Come on, I wasn't mocking you. I was just... I was trying to get your attention. But you acted like I didn't exist," Jungkook admitted.

"It's a weird way to get attention, to be honest. And now you think your words are supposed to make me forget everything that happened?"

He straightened up beside you, his gaze sliding over your face. He set his glass on the ground near the swing and leaned in a little closer.

"What if I apologize?"

Your anger rose in a wave. Did he really think that an apology could erase years of pain, tears, and frayed nerves?

"And why do I need your apology now?"

"Obviously, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have mentioned it until now."

You sighed and looked away, rolling your eyes.

"Go to hell with your apology."

Jungkook laughed a low, guttural laugh that sent a chill down your spine.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

You glanced at him irritably. You could have lied to get him to leave you alone, but you unconsciously wanted him to stay close to you. You didn't know if he had a girlfriend, but if he did, he would definitely come with her to his best friend's wedding.

"Why are you interested in this?" you were in no hurry to answer.

"It's a simple question, just answer it," he asked.

"No," you said shortly after a second of silence.

Jungkook smiled at one corner of his lips.

"Good. Because that would have interfered with my plans."

"What plans?" you frowned, already feeling incredulous.

He didn't answer. He just moved closer, his hips touching yours. His warmth contrasted with the coolness of the evening.

"Y/N, how do you feel about sex without commitment?" he said calmly, almost casually.

Your eyes rounded.

"Are you out of your mind? Is this your idea of repentance?"

"No, repentance is a separate topic," he shrugged. "You've had my attention since the start of wedding, and I can't think of anything else but your sexy body all day."

His words hit you. Your heart pounded somewhere in your throat, and your breathing needed to be steadied immediately because it was out of whack.

"Is that what this is about?" you pulled away, clutching the phone. "You just wanted to have a quickie fucking with that girl you used to humiliate because you finally found me attractive?"

"I've always found you attractive." His voice was deep, warm, almost a whisper, sliding over your skin like silk. "It's just that right now you look so good that it's hard for me to resist. And I think you know it."

These words hit you like thunder - suddenly, powerfully, with no chance to escape.

You wanted to throw another sharp remark at him, but your tongue seemed to be stuck to your palate. His eyes... They burned through you. And although you were furious, your heart was pounding madly, and the skin on your arms was covered with goosebumps. He sat too close, his warmth crept up on you, enveloped you.

"Don't look like that..." you said, looking down. Your voice trembled, and it made you angry. But even more so was what he noticed.

"Like what?" he was getting closer, and his breath touched your cheek. "Like I want you?"

You inhaled sharply, because at that moment he reached out and touched your wrist. Lightly, but this touch was enough to make your body feel as if it had betrayed you. Heat ran down your back, and your stomach clenched with some wild anticipation.

Although your brain was screaming "Run!", your body was brazenly whispering "Just a little more..."

He looked too good. Too desirable. And the worst thing he saw was that he knew it.

Jungkook looked you over, never taking his eyes off you, and continued with a slight tilt of his head:

"You're so hot and I can barely contain myself. And Y/N…your dress," he touched the edge of your dress, where there was a slit on thigh, "doesn't make it any easier for me," he leaned down to your ear and whispered, "I want to take it off you so badly."

His words filled the space between you, enveloping the atmosphere with even more tension.

You listened, own heart beating faster and your thoughts confused. His proximity made every nerve in your body seem to light up. You tried to stay cool, to not let him realize how he was affecting you.

Sex with Jungkook? It was your pipe dream from your youth that never came true in your mind at the time. And now, after all these years, you're sitting next to him and his eyes are burning with desire to have you.

It's like you're in a different reality, but you're still the same quiet girl from high school next to your high school sweetheart. He offers you sex without commitment and finds you attractive. You suddenly feel your confidence grow. And that greedy look in his black eyes lights a fire in you.

You smiled, looking into his face-for the first time without fear, without hesitation. There was something sly in your smile, something frank, that made Jungkook squint his eyes a little, catching the change in you.

You straightened up and squeezed your knees slightly, as if to gather all the strength left in your trembling fingers. You glanced down at his fingers, which were resting on your thigh, stroking it lightly. Then they slipped boldly under the fabric of your dress. You held your breath. Jungkook moved closer to your lips.

"Do you want me to do it? Or should I go?" his fingers touched the most desirable place, and you felt the dampness soaking your panties. He ran his fingers down the center, his lips were close, but he never kissed you.

"I want you to go..." you said, lowering your voice with growing excitement, "damn..." you exhaled as he pressed a little harder, kissing your chin. "But more, I want you to continue."

Jungkook smiled, his breathing heavier and his eyes darker, hungry.

"That's the sweetest yes I've ever heard," he whispered before eventually erasing the last inches between you.

His lips touched yours slowly, as if he wanted to taste you from the first notes, to feel your every reaction. At first it was a soft, patient kiss, but you responded to him - eagerly, hotly, with the same passion that had long been burning inside you. Your fingers instinctively dug into his shirt, pulling him closer.

His hand, which had been sliding under your dress, stopped at your hip, and the other one wrapped itself in your hair, tilting your head at a comfortable angle to deepen the kiss. He was no longer holding back. His tongue darted in, meeting yours, and the reciprocity caused a moan to rise in Jungkook's throat. It sounded wild, low, completely uncontrollable.

He pulled away from your lips and both of you were breathing rapidly.

"Let’s go," he said, and grabbed your hand and led you behind a hedge of green ivy. He walked a little ahead of you, intertwining your fingers together. You looked at his broad back and felt excited about what was going to happen next.

"Where are we going?" you asked out of curiosity. He gave you a quick glance over his shoulder. His broad smile told you that he knew what he was doing.

"Somewhere where they won't even think to look for us," he answered you.

You went to the parking lot, which was outdoors. The guests' cars filled every parking space, and some of the guests were forced to park right outside the restaurant.

You thought Jungkook was leading you to his car, but when you pulled up next to the bride and groom's wedding car, you were embarrassed. Jungkook pulled out the keys to the Mercedes-Benz GLS and you heard the locks click into place.

"Are you serious? The wedding car?" you hissed. Jungkook opened the back door and touched your back and pushed you forward.

"What? It's the only car I have keys to," he said somewhere above your head. A voice in your head screamed at you that you were crazy. This is your sister's wedding car, and you're going to have sex here. And with whom? With Jungkook.

You sat down on the seat, but Jungkook, who climbed in after you, forced you to move on. The door slammed shut with a characteristic thud, and only then did you realize what was coming.

The door locks clicked, the car keys flew to the front seat, and without giving you a chance to think about what was going to happen next, Jungkook threw himself at you with a kiss.

His tongue entered your mouth, finding yours. His lips moved confidently against yours, and you finally allowed yourself not to think about the consequences, but just to enjoy this man's touch. You returned the kiss with no less need and pulled him closer to you.

Jungkook felt his cock getting harder with every movement of your tongue against his.

His fingers went under the hem of the dress and already knew where to go. This time, he wanted to feel your flesh, so when Jungkook touched your folds, pulling the laundry aside, he moaned softly along with you. You were so wet and so desirable to him.

You spread your legs so he could have the best access to your pussy. Your underwear was in the way, so he didn't break away from the kiss and skillfully removed it. Your thong slid down your legs, gathering near your sneakers.

You parted your lips to breathe in some air. But Jungkook couldn't stop. His tongue trailed down your neck, leaving a wet trail. Then a light bite. And then another. He knew where to press, where to suck, to leave a mark. And only after that, he kissed you soothingly. Every movement was almost like a fine art, and you realized that it was no accident. He's not just passionate - he's experienced. He knows how use body like others know music or weapons.

His fingers never stopped stimulating your most sensitive spot, and then he pushed them into your passage.

"You're so wet for me, baby..." a soft whisper, and you were breathless.

"Jungkook..." your tone became pleading, but not because of shame - because of anticipation.

He lowered himself, pinning you to the back seat. The hem of your dress gathered at your hips, exposing it, which he inspected with great greed.

He knelt down between the seats, spreading your thighs wider, and looked up, right into your eyes.

"I got the best dessert today," he said before touching you with his tongue.

Your moan came out uncontrollably. He was attentive to your every reaction - what drove you crazy, what made you shiver more. His tongue worked rhythmically, sometimes slowly, sometimes slightly playfully. Your clit felt so excited and you already knew you were going to orgasm.

Jungkook let you rise up - and let go a little. And then again. Your back arched as he kept you on the edge, as if toying with your pleasure. You moaned as you buried your fingers in his soft hair. His tongue was so skillful, you were pleasantly surprised. No one had ever eaten your pussy so well. And just as you were about to orgasm, he stopped.

You looked at him with desperation in your eyes. And he just smiled.

"Did you think I would give you everything at once, princess?"

He got up and sat down on a chair, pulling you onto him. You climbed onto his lap, feeling his hardness in his pants. His cock rested against your pussy, and you feel that you will leave a mark on his pants.

Jungkook pulled you in for a kiss and you tasted your cum on his tongue. You put your hands on his strong chest and then decided that you wanted to feel his skin. As you kissed, your fingers skillfully undid each button.

When you managed to get the shirt off, Jungkook helped you take it off. You watched in fascination as his muscles moved in time with his movements. How they tensed and relaxed.

His naked body was perfect, as if it had been created by God. You ran your nails over his tattoos, which covered his entire right arm from shoulder to wrist. Jungkook wore piercings and had tattoos, and he was so damn hot in that look. You never thought he could be into that kind of thing.

"Did it hurt?" you ask, lowering your nails, repeating the patterns on your hand. Jungkook smiled, showing his straight teeth.

"Not at all," he replied shortly, running his hands over your buttocks. You suddenly squeezed your legs around his hips, and gave a light push to calm the throbbing between your legs.

"I like your tattoos," you said in an innocent voice. Jungkook looked at you and felt his heart speed up.

"And I like you," came out of his mouth. You turned your gaze to him and narrowed your eyes in disbelief.

"You said it's sex without commitment, and what do I hear?" you thrust your hips again, causing Jungkook to let out a muffled groan.

"It will be, but why I can't say what I feel?" he squeezed his hands around your buttocks, pressing you against his crotch more. Your nails dug into his skin on his shoulders, and you moved on his hips, trying to reduce the sweet agony between your legs.

"Feel?" you repeated gasped, grinding against his hard cock into pants. "And what do you feel?" you asked. Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment. He was in pain and too tight in his pants. He must to pull out his cock and finally put it in your sweet pussy.

"I feel like you're going to beg for mercy now, because I'm going to fuck you senseless." he said in a deep voice heavy with excitement. Your cheeks were flushed, but you didn't let on that you were embarrassed. Jungkook reached for the zipper on the back of your dress and undid it. You froze as the dress fell down, gathering on your stomach.

Jungkook's eyes were clouded with lust at the sight before him. Your naked breasts, your nipples erect with excitement, and the goosebumps that covered your delicate skin. It all made his cock twitch.

His lips were on your breast in a moment. He took his palm over the one he had been kissing and squeezed it. You reflexively clenched your legs again to get some pleasure. He bit your nipple and you screamed.

Jungkook smiled slyly and slowly moved to the other nipple. You moaned at his stimulation. He teased you to the limit. You were burning with the thought of him filling you with his cock.

He finally left your poor nipples alone, which would surely be bruised, he sucked the skin so hard and pressed it with his fingers.

"I want to fuck you, let me take off my pants," he asked. It took you a while to realize what he wanted, and only when he lifted your buttocks did you climb out of he. You sat down next to him, watching him take off his black classic pants. You had definitely left your wet mark on them, but it wasn't visible.

Jungkook took off his pants, followed by his Calvin Klein boxers. When his cock was free of the tightness of his underwear, you saw how horny he was. Semen was dripping from his tip. A large vein was clearly visible along its length, and you wanted to touch it with your tongue.

Jungkook took his cock in his hands and rolled it several times. You touched your hands to his palm and he froze. His eyes met yours and he couldn't help but smile at your needy gaze.

"Do you want to suck me off?" he asked playfully and so sexually that you felt your walls shrink. Jungkook spread his legs wider and lowered his hand, exposing his cock to you.

You lowered your head and touched his sensitive glans with your tongue, licking the salty cum. Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath. You ran your tongue in a circular motion over his glans, hearing him breathing deeply. You opened your mouth wide and finally took him in. Not deeply, only halfway in, because your gag reflex might work.

You moved your head up and down, sucking his cock. You had one hand on his thigh and the other holding own hair. You felt him put his hand on the back of your head and then you felt uncomfortable. You let go of Jungkook's cock with a clap and knelt down in front of his open legs.

You took him into your mouth again. But this time, deeper. Jungkook moaned louder, and he raked your hair into a fist and helped you move your head.

"Fuck Y/N you suck my cock so good," you heard overhead. You moaned, and you vibrated around his length. A squishy sound, his and your moans filling the entire space in the car. "I wonder if I had offered you the same thing at school, would you have sucked me off as well?"

You froze and then let go of his cock. You looked up at him. Jungkook's cock was shiny with your saliva, and you had traces of his cum on your chin and lips. You between his legs, looking up at him with indignation, was even better than all his fantasies about you.

"If you had asked me that at school, I would never have said yes," you said, raising your eyebrows. He took your chin in his hands and leaned in for a kiss.

"Why did you agree now?" he asked demandingly.

You looked down at him, barely touching the edge of his thigh with your fingers. His cock was still wet, glistening in the semi-darkness of the car, and it looked obscenely arousing.

"Because I'm not a schoolgirl now," you said, licking your lips slowly, defiantly. "I'm an adult girl and I can accept offers of sex without obligation from anyone."

Your voice was trembling, but not from fear, from desire and audacity.

"And if I want to suck your dick, I'll do it, even if I forget it was you in five minutes," you said to erase his boldness and confidence. And it looks like you'll never forget what happened today.

Jungkook's eyes sparkled. His jaw clenched slightly and his fingers still held your chin as he leaned in closer, his nose barely touching yours.

"Oh, from anyone?" he asked again. He slid his thumb across your lower lip, smearing away the remnants of saliva. His breathing became deeper.

"Turn around." His voice broke into a whisper, but there was so much power in it that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You were standing between his legs, and when you turned your back, he immediately pulled you back, pressing your ass against his even more aroused cock. His hands slipped under your dress, pulling it up until the fabric gathered around your waist.

"Sit on me, slowly." His voice was raspy. "I want to feel you take me."

You spread your legs wider and slowly lowered yourself onto him, feeling him stretch you as he entered you deeply.

Jungkook groaned hoarsely, his fingers digging into your hips. You bit your lip, feeling his big cock inside you. You sat still for a few seconds, getting used to each other.

Jungkook took your breasts in his hands and squeezed them, leaning against your ear.

"So you said that you could accept this offer from anyone... and you might to suck anyone’s cock..." he bit your ear and you rolled your eyes in pleasure. "And what if Namjoon had offered you, would you have accepted it?"

You opened your eyes and licked your dry lips. Jungkook felt you tense up. He pushed you with his hips and you let out a strangled moan.

"Imagine if he was sitting here. Entering you from behind. Would he have been able to take it without coming right away?" His hands had long since dropped to your waist. He didn't stop, pushing with his hips again. "Do you think he would know that you're going crazy when you're taken slowly from behind, touching your clit with fingers? Huh?"

He touched you there. His fingers pressed on your clit, driving you crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N," he whispered, "will you be able to imagine anyone else again after I'm done with you?"

His hand slid to your neck, squeezing lightly. With the other, he continued to caress your poor clit. Your head leaned back on his shoulder, your breathing became labored.

Each of his movements was crisp, viscous. You moaned louder, forgetting everything around you.

"Faster..." you whispered, "please, Jungkook..."

He jerked his hips sharply, entering you all the way.

"No, baby, it's not going to be fast. I want you to feel every second of me taking you. I want you to think about it when you touch yourself at night. I want you to remember that it was me who fucked you so well, and that it wasn't Namjoon or anyone else," Jungkook said as he shoved his cock deep inside you.

"Please..." you gasped out, trembling. "I want faster," you whimpered, clutching the car door with your hands as Jungkook moved slowly and deeply inside you.

His moan became animalistic as you trembled up on him.

"Tell me first, baby," he whispered into your ear. "Would he be able to make you drip like this?"

"N-no..." you whispered hoarsely, almost crying from the sensitivity, "only you... only you..."

His movements finally became faster, heavier. You couldn't hold back any longer, your body was shaking, every nerve was exposed.

And he felt it.

"Good girl," he whispered, kissing your neck, "now I want to feel you properly."

He lifted you up and walked out. His cock was hard and still erect. Jungkook laid you down on the seat, he lifted your legs and entered you a little sharper than the first time, knocking the air out of your lungs. He rested one leg on the back seat and used the other leg as a fulcrum.

He held your legs against his body and pressed himself against you as much as possible. You felt him so deeply, so clearly, that you could come just from the feeling of him filling you.

Your body rubbed against his, each thrust sounding like a sweet smack in the stifling air of the auto salon. The windows were fogged up. You would have thought that the world no longer existed outside them - only you.

"Look at me," he said as you closed your eyes in pleasure. Jungkook grabbed your neck, not roughly, but rather holding you in a warm trap. "I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock.

You moaned, take your eyes opened, dug your nails into his shoulders, and shivered as you felt him inside you start to move faster. His forehead was drenched with sweat, his eyes were glistening madly.

Suddenly, you heard muffled voices near the car, and then shadows appeared. You both froze, breathing heavily.

"Jungkook..." you said, looking at him, terrified.

"Shhh," he put his finger to your lips.

"If someone sees us..." you whispered as he took his finger away.

"No one will see..." he whispered back.

"Maybe, better..." he stopped you from continuing by kissing you. You returned the kiss, giving him the opportunity to deepen it. Jungkook moved his hips as he continued to fuck you. Slowly, deeply. It took you a while to realize that the voices had died down. You moaned right into his lips.

"Just moan quietly and no one will find us," Jungkook smiled.

You bit your lip, but your body didn't obey. Waves of pleasure rolled in one after another. And when you came - harder than ever - he squeezed your hips, his movements were fast, he was chasing his own orgasm.

Jungkook barely managed to get out of you and came on your stomach with a hot, deep moan that made you want to kiss him.

After that, you remained motionless. He rested his head on your forearm, your chest heaving heavily and your heart pounding like in fugitive.

Jungkook lifted head stared at you silently, not taking his eyes off you. His hand slid from your neck to your cheek, his fingers gently tracing your jawline, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to your damp forehead.

"Did you like it?" he asked huskily.

"Yes," you answered honestly.

"Would you like to do it once more?" he touched your lips, gently, lightly, with his tongue.

"Maybe," you answered smiling. "But let's go, they might be looking for us. We've been missing for a long time, someone might suspect..."

"You're right, we should go," he muttered as he got off of you. While you wiped your stomach with a napkin from the glove compartment, Jungkook dressed, quickly, but with that confident grace that drove you crazy. You followed suit, adjusting your dress and hair, trying to hide the traces of passion that had raged in the car a few minutes ago.

"Your lips are swollen," he said, watching you adjust your dress. "It makes you look even prettier. It is my merit." he sounds proudly.

"Shut up, Jungkook," you snapped, turning away so as not to give away how much his words touched you.

He went out first, offering you his hand. You gratefully accepted it and stepped onto the ground, looking around cautiously, and happily the area was empty. You carefully closed the car door, as if leaving a secret behind.

"Let's go drink to the happiness of the newlyweds... and their borrowed car," Jungkook suggested, smiling slyly. You giggled, walking forward. As you walked, you could feel the sweet aftertaste of orgasm in your body. The wind gently touched your legs as you walked ahead, a little confused, but with an inner heat that did not subside.

Jungkook walked behind you, and even without touching you could feel his eyes on your back, as hungry as they were in the car.

"You walk as if you've just been..." he began.

"If you don't shut up right now, I’ll throw my sneaker at you," you looked back over your shoulder with a squint.

"You won't do that," Jungkook huffed, laughing, and caught up to you, putting his arm around your waist. "I'd like to see your eyes when you cum... in bed."

"Idiot," you whispered, but the same light was in your eyes.

When you walked back into the room where the party was still going on, there was still light music playing, people laughing, dancing, raising their glasses to love. No one seemed to notice your absence.

"Bingo," Jungkook whispered, handing you a glass of champagne. "To the happiness of the newlyweds. And... to the best use of someone else's transportation."

You laughed, touching your glass to his.