They Dont Know About Us @pjmsneverland - Tumblr Blog

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But giving up my independence goes against my core…

#neverland talks

It’s giving druglord! bts

#neverland talks #bts #I should write something for this omg?!?

Jimin has not let up on me since this era started like omg?!

#jimin effect #neverland talks #bts #park jimin

My whole family watching bts World Cup performance and immediately spotting my bias. I worked hard for this

#world cup #bts #neverland talks

allthingswhumpyandangsty

foliexaxdeux

Hell Yeah - 01

Pairings: Demon!BTS x f!reader, Yoongi x reader (main), everyone x everyone

Summary: You accidentally summon a demon after a few drinks with your friends and manage to make him mess up his ritual to get back home. Now you're stuck in hell with a morally grey squad of demons who take you in (some more welcoming than others) and promise to try and bring you back to where you belong. Getting to know them during your warm holiday down south makes it clear though, that you're not the only one in need of help.

Genre: Fluff, smut, reader has multiple sexual partners, everyone is horny as hell, a bit of reverse harem (but not every single member), it's hinted at that reader isn't Korean and doesn't really know about the culture, it's also hinted that she's around the same age as BTS, reader has a cat!!, strangers to lovers, found family, comedy, but also trauma and angst, crack in terms of their idol lives being re-written to fit into hell (Bang PD is the devil for example), fantasy elements (demonic powers, the underworld, magic)

Fic Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, blasphemy, lots of trauma. See Hell Yeah Masterlist for a full list of warnings (beware)!

Chapter Warnings: Cursing and a lot of it, Yoongi's blatant hatred of AI, reader has a meltdown when she realizes she's stuck in hell, Tae being a funny perv

Word count: 11.4k

Hell Yeah Masterlist | Masterlist | > Next

01 - Down South

"What the fuck!" you shriek as an unknown man materializes out of thin air in the middle of your living room. Scared shitless, you scramble back on the floor from where you were sitting until your back hits the couch.

outrokoo

𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙨 | 𝙟𝙟𝙠 • 08

˙⋆✮ They say having feelings for your brother's best friend is never a good idea...

But loving Jungkook feels like the easiest thing in the world.

He's been by your side for as long as you can remember, so it's only natural for you to feel devastated when your brother, Dohyun, tells you that Jungkook is about to get married.

For the first time ever, loving him doesn't feel easy at all.

paining: brother's best friend!jungkook × f!reader

genre: unrequited love(?), brother's best friend trope, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn

wc: 9k

cw: age gap (jk is 32, reader is 22 ops), tension, reader is WHIPPED, pining, initial unrequited love (my fav), eventual smut (!!adding new warnings when needed!!)

>>english is not my first language

chapter 7 | masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You decide to meet Yoongi after he finally realizes that calling you would be far more effective than flooding your phone with endless apologetic text messages. Hearing his voice on the other end of the line feels strangely unfamiliar after everything that happened, yet there is something undeniably sincere in the hesitation that lingers between his words. After a brief conversation, you reluctantly agree to see him, deciding it would be safer for him to come to your apartment rather than meeting somewhere outside. The thought of accidentally running into Sophie again immediately twists your stomach into knots, and the possibility of crossing paths with Jungkook is even worse. You don’t think you could handle another confrontation.

The entire afternoon passes at an agonizingly slow pace. You keep finding yourself glancing at the clock, wondering whether agreeing to this had been a mistake. Part of you wants to hear what Yoongi has to say, but another part still remembers every single word he threw at you that day. Words spoken in anger may disappear into thin air, but they have a cruel habit of lingering inside the person they were directed at.

When the doorbell finally rings, the sudden sound echoes through the apartment much louder than it normally would, startling you from your thoughts.

Layla immediately jumps off the couch, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She flashes you a dramatic thumbs-up before quietly disappearing into her bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind her as though she knows the conversation you’re about to have isn’t meant for anyone else’s ears.

You shake your head in disbelief, unable to suppress the small laugh escaping your lips. Even in tense situations, Layla somehow always manages to lighten the atmosphere, if only for a brief second.

Taking a slow breath, you make your way to the entrance and open the door.

Yoongi stands there with his hands tucked awkwardly inside the pockets of his pants. He looks exhausted, the faint shadows beneath his eyes suggesting he hasn’t been sleeping much either. His usually composed expression has softened into something much more vulnerable, almost uncertain.

“Hello” he says quietly.

“Hi” you answer, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in.”

He nods with a faint murmur of gratitude before slipping off his shoes and following you into the living room.

Neither of you knows how to begin.

You both sit down on the couch, leaving a polite distance between yourselves. Your hands rest awkwardly against your thighs while Yoongi leans forward slightly, his fingers nervously intertwined. The silence stretching between you isn’t hostile, but it certainly isn’t comfortable either. It carries the weight of everything that has been left unsaid, every misunderstanding and every regret that neither of you has fully processed.

Yoongi is the first to break it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you probably don’t want to hear me out, and I honestly appreciate that you agreed to see me.”

You press your lips together, fighting the urge to smile despite yourself. Watching him avoid your gaze feels oddly endearing. In moments like this, it’s almost impossible to remember that he’s several years older than you. He suddenly seems far less intimidating than usual, almost like a little kid who’s just been scolded by their mother.

You know exactly who Yoongi is.

You know he is a good person. He’s been there for you more times than you can count, offering quiet support without ever asking for anything in return. He’s easily become one of the people you trusted the most, which is precisely why his words hurt so deeply. Betrayal stings the most when it comes from someone whose opinion genuinely matters.

You don’t interrupt him.

Instead, you simply nod, silently encouraging him to continue. You can tell from the way his shoulders remain tense that he hasn’t said everything weighing on his heart.

“I never wanted to hurt you Y/n…” he says after taking a deep breath. “I need you to know that I care about you. I really do. You’re my friend, and I value you more than I’ve probably ever said out loud. Seeing Sophie again… it hit me a lot harder than I expected. I know that’s not an excuse, and I’m not asking you to pretend it is. I just… I completely lost control. I let my emotions get the best of me, and you ended up paying the price for something that had nothing to do with you.”

This time he finally forces himself to meet your eyes. The hope you find in them almost catches you off guard. He’s waiting for some kind of reaction, even if it’s anger.

When none comes, his expression gradually falls. His shoulders sag almost imperceptibly as doubt slowly replaces hope. He shifts uncomfortably where he’s sitting, interpreting your silence as confirmation that perhaps he’s already ruined everything beyond repair.

“…Alright.” he whispers.

The word barely reaches your ears.

He slowly stands, giving you a small nod as though accepting a punishment he believes he deserves. Without another word, he turns toward the door, convinced that there’s nothing left to say.

“You were an asshole, Yoongi.”

Your voice stops him instantly.

His entire body stiffens before he slowly turns around. His head hangs lower than before, and he can’t quite bring himself to fully meet your gaze anymore.

“I would’ve never said those things to you.”

For a long moment, he simply stands there.

“I know.” he admits quietly.

There isn’t a trace of defensiveness in his voice, only regret.

You let out a slow sigh, mindlessly tracing invisible circles against the fabric of your shorts with your fingertips. Forgiveness has never been easy for you. Not because you enjoy holding grudges, but because trust always feels fragile once it’s been cracked.

“But…” you continue after another long pause, “…I understand why it happened.”

The words surprise even you.

“It’s also my fault for keeping everything a secret. I convinced myself I was protecting everyone, but all I really did was create misunderstandings. I should’ve known that hiding something this important would eventually come back to haunt me. I was selfish.”

Yoongi immediately shakes his head before you’ve even finished speaking. He walks back toward the couch and sits down again, this time leaving much less distance between you than before.

“No.” he says firmly. “Don’t do that.”

His voice is steadier now.

“You don’t get to blame yourself for the way I treated you. I should’ve trusted you enough to tell you the truth from the beginning instead of keeping everything to myself. None of this is on you.”

You stare at him for several seconds. For the first time in what feels like forever, the tightness in your chest begins to loosen.

You hadn’t realized just how heavily this entire situation had been weighing on you until now. Carrying guilt alongside disappointment had become exhausting, and hearing him refuse to let you shoulder all the blame feels like finally setting down a burden you hadn’t even noticed you were carrying.

A small smile slowly finds its way onto your face.

It’s hesitant at first, but genuine. Without thinking too much about it, you lean forward and wrap your arms around him.

Yoongi freezes for only a brief second before hugging you back just as tightly. The embrace feels familiar.

“I forgive you.” you mumble against his shoulder. After a brief pause, a teasing grin appears on your face. “Just this once, asshole.”

His laughter fills the room, warm and relieved, the sound carrying away the last remnants of tension that had lingered between you all afternoon.

As he hugs you a little tighter, you realize that forgiveness doesn’t erase the pain someone caused. It simply means deciding that the relationship is worth giving another chance, despite the scars left behind. And sometimes, that decision is far more difficult, and far more meaningful, than holding onto resentment ever could.

Eventually, the conversation begins to drift away from everything that had happened between the two of you and settles into something much lighter. It feels refreshing, almost nostalgic, to talk without constantly weighing every word before saying it. You’re simply catching up. You fill Yoongi in on everything he’s missed over the past days.

You tell him about your new apartment and how, despite all the chaos that came with moving, it’s slowly starting to feel like home. You describe the little things you’ve grown unexpectedly attached to: the large windows that let the afternoon sunlight flood the living room, the tiny balcony where you and Layla occasionally sit late at night, and the peaceful silence that settles over the apartment after long, exhausting days.

From there, the conversation naturally shifts to the upcoming trip with everyone else.

The excitement you once felt has been replaced by a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Between unresolved feelings, complicated friendships, and everything that’s happened recently, the vacation feels like it has the potential to either fix everything that’s going on inside your head or make it infinitely worse.

Yoongi listens carefully before letting out a quiet sigh.

“I honestly wouldn’t want to be in your position.”

You let out a small laugh.

“I don’t blame you.”

A comfortable silence follows. Not the awkward kind that demands someone fill it, but the peaceful sort that only exists between people who’ve known each other long enough to understand that silence isn’t always something that needs fixing.

You hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed Yoongi.

Your friendship has never been loud or overly affectionate. Neither of you has ever been particularly good at expressing emotions with words, yet somehow you’ve always understood each other anyway. It has always been one of those rare relationships built on trust rather than constant reassurance. Quiet, subtle, almost invisible to outsiders, but remarkably strong beneath the surface. Some bonds don’t need daily conversations to survive. They simply wait until the right moment to pick up exactly where they left off.

A smile slowly spreads across your face before you lightly rest your head on his shoulder.

“I wish Layla could come with us…” you admit. “And, well… you too, of course.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes dramatically, lifting the glass of water you’d handed him a few minutes earlier. He takes another sip before answering.

“That would be an absolute disaster.”

He pauses, unable to stop a grin from appearing.

“…But a fun one.”

You laugh, already imagining the absolute disaster that would follow if the two of you ever spent several days together with Jungkook and Sophie.

Before you can reply, you hear slow footsteps approaching from the hallway. You barely glance over your shoulder. A moment later, Layla wanders into the living room completely unaware that Yoongi is still there.

Her hair has been twisted into a messy bun that seems to be defying the laws of physics, loose strands sticking out in every possible direction. Covering nearly her entire face is the bright green hydrating face mask the two of you had impulsively bought a few days earlier after convincing yourselves that a skin care night was exactly what you needed.

She looks completely relaxed.

“Babe, how’d it go with-”

She stops mid-sentence. Her eyes slowly travel past you before locking onto Yoongi. For a brief second, she doesn’t move, she doesn’t blink, she simply stares as the realization crashes into her all at once. He’s still here. You completely lose it.

Laughter erupts from your chest before you can even attempt to stop yourself. You double over almost immediately, clutching your stomach as another fit of laughter escapes you. Tears begin gathering in the corners of your eyes, making it nearly impossible to see.

When you finally manage to look up, you glance toward Yoongi. His expression is absolutely priceless. Pure horror. He looks equally confused and concerned, clearly wondering whether he should say something, apologize for overstaying his welcome, or quietly disappear through the nearest window.

“Holy shit!” Layla blurts out, horrified. “I was convinced I’d heard the front door close! I thought he’d already left!”

Your laughter only gets worse. She points toward the bathroom in complete panic.

“I’ll be right back!”

Without waiting for either of you to answer, she spins around and sprints down the hallway before disappearing behind the bathroom door, which closes with a loud click.

Silence settles over the apartment once again.

Yoongi slowly turns his head toward you, still trying to process what just happened.

“I remembered her being… a little eccentric.” he says, fighting back a laugh. “But this?”

He shakes his head. “She’s actually crazy.”

You stand up, still smiling to yourself, and carry his now-empty glass toward the kitchen. He quietly follows behind you, slipping his hands back into the pockets of his pants.

“There’s honestly no better way to describe her.” you admit, setting the glass inside the sink.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing about her.”

Only a minute later, hurried footsteps echo through the apartment again. Layla hurriedly comes running back into the kitchen. She stops abruptly in front of the two of you, breathing just a little too heavily, making it painfully obvious she’d rushed through washing her face and attempting to make herself look presentable.

The green mask is finally gone. Her hair, although still slightly messy, now resembles an actual hairstyle instead of an explosion. She awkwardly clears her throat.

“That was… incredibly embarrassing. I’m so sorry.” She laughs nervously before rubbing the back of her neck. “I actually don’t think I properly introduced myself the night we met at the club. I’m Layla.”

Yoongi smiles warmly before extending his hand.

“Don’t worry about it.” he says with an amused chuckle. “Honestly, it was pretty entertaining.”

He shakes her hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” The awkwardness disappears surprisingly quickly.

Within minutes, Layla is comfortably chatting with him as though they’ve known each other much longer than they actually have. Their personalities bounce off one another effortlessly, with Yoongi’s dry sarcasm meeting Layla’s complete lack of a filter in the most entertaining way possible.

You spend another half hour talking together, jumping from one random topic to another without ever really finishing any of them. For the first time that day, your apartment feels full again. Full of the comforting familiarity you’d been missing.

Eventually, Yoongi glances down at his phone before letting out a quiet sigh.

“I should probably head home.”

You walk him to the front door while Layla follows close behind. After exchanging one last hug and promising to see each other again soon, Yoongi offers you one final smile before stepping out into the hallway. The door quietly closes behind him.

You barely have enough time to turn around before Layla practically throws herself at you.

“I seriously did not remember him being that hot!”

You laugh, gently pushing her away before she can dramatically shake your shoulders.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” she asks innocently, although the grin on her face says otherwise. You simply roll your eyes, choosing not to answer. Mostly because she isn’t wrong.

“Well, he’s all yours if you want.” you say triumphantly, pointing a finger at her. “You’ve officially got my blessing, love.”

She groans dramatically, hiding her face behind her hands.

“I don’t need it! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“No, you didn’t.” you reply with a smug smile. “But you’re getting it anyway.”

.✦ ݁˖

It’s the next day when Sophie finally texts you all the details about the upcoming trip.

Her enthusiasm basically jumps off the screen as she tells you that the destination is Hawaii. She fills the message with far too many exclamation marks, already talking about beaches, sunsets, tropical drinks, and all the places she wants everyone to visit together. Reading her words makes you smile before you even realize it.

Hawaii might seem like a predictable choice, but the thought of sipping coconut milk on a warm beach, just like you’ve seen so many times in the movies, is enough to make your head spin with excitement again.

For the rest of the day, the thought lingers quietly at the back of your mind while you wander around the mall in search of new bikinis. You can’t remember the last time you actually needed one. It’s been years since you spent an entire day at the beach, swimming until your skin wrinkled from the saltwater, drying off under the warmth of the sun with sand stubbornly sticking to your legs.

As strange as it sounds, the idea of finally being able to swim in the ocean again excites you even more than the trip itself. The thought of warm water, endless blue skies, and the feeling of floating without worrying about anything feels almost therapeutic. Maybe it’s exactly what you need after everything that has happened recently.

You slowly browse through countless racks of swimwear, holding different bikinis against yourself in front of the mirrors. Some are bright and colorful, covered in tropical patterns that perfectly match the destination, while others are simple, elegant, and timeless. You find yourself spending far more time choosing than you expected, debating over colors you would normally never consider wearing.

Summer has fully settled in by now. The unpredictable chilly weather from only a few weeks ago has completely disappeared, replaced by heavy heat that seems impossible to escape. Even inside the shopping mall, where the air conditioning is blasting at what feels like the lowest temperature possible, you still catch yourself fanning your face every now and then.

Eventually, you take a break, rewarding yourself with an ice cream and watching people walk past while you sit on one of the benches outside the food court.

That’s when your thoughts inevitably drift somewhere they’ve been returning far too often lately.

The dream.

It comes back with surprising clarity despite several days having passed. Every detail still feels strangely vivid, almost as though it had actually happened instead of existing only inside your head. The emotions attached to it certainly haven’t faded.

You still haven’t seen Jungkook since that evening.

Part of you is relieved by the coincidence, but another part almost wishes you had already run into him just to get the awkwardness over with. Instead, every passing day only gives your imagination more room to make things worse.

The mere thought of facing him makes a nervous shiver travel down your spine.

You’re irrationally convinced that one careless glance, one awkward smile, or even the slightest change in your expression could reveal everything you’ve been trying so hard to keep hidden. As ridiculous as it sounds, you’re certain you’ll feel guilty around him despite the fact that none of it actually happened.

It was only a dream.

At least, that’s what you keep reminding yourself.

Still, your mind stubbornly refuses to let it go.

What unsettles you the most is how effortless everything had felt in that dream. Jungkook had looked at you as if he already knew exactly what was going through your head. There had been no confusion, no hesitation, no possibility of hiding behind excuses. He had confronted you so naturally that, even after waking up, the memory continued to make your heart race.

You wonder if he would ever notice in real life.

Would he recognize the way your eyes always linger on him? Would he pick up on the nervous laughs, the constant overthinking, or the way you always seem to become hyperaware of every little movement whenever he’s nearby?

Or would he remain completely oblivious, treating you exactly the same as always?

The uncertainty is almost worse than knowing the answer.

Without warning, the image from your dream flashes through your mind again. Jungkook pulling you effortlessly onto his lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Heat immediately rushes to your cheeks.

The lingering sensation of his lips is impossible to forget. Even now, the memory feels vivid, as though your mind refuses to let it fade. The taste of his kiss had seemed almost divine, so impossibly real that waking up hadn’t been enough to erase it.

Your subconscious mind really outdid itself this time, choosing the one thing it knew would leave you completely flustered.

You can’t help wondering why it felt so real. Why every little detail seemed so convincing, down to the warmth of his touch and the way your heart had pounded against your chest.

It gets you thinking… What would you do if any of it actually happened?

If Jungkook ever looked at you that way in real life, would you find the courage to meet his gaze, or would you panic and look away? Would you let yourself believe it was real, or would you convince yourself you had misunderstood everything?

The more you think about it, the more impossible it seems. And yet, despite knowing it was nothing more than a dream, a small part of you can’t stop imagining what it would feel like if, just once, fantasy and reality blurred together.

You lower your gaze to your melting ice cream, suddenly finding it far more interesting than the people walking around you.

“…Get a grip.” you quietly mumble to yourself with an embarrassed smile, shaking your head as if that alone could force the memory to disappear.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it only makes your blush deepen.

.✦ ݁˖

Dohyun invites you over for dinner, although you know the invitation is nothing more than an excuse Celeste, your brother’s wife, comes up with to finally get you through their front door after weeks of complaining that you never make time to visit anymore.

The second you step inside, she’s already walking toward you with the brightest smile on her face, throwing her arms around you before you even have the chance to say hello.

“Y/n! I’ve missed you so much! You never come by anymore.”

She squeezes you tightly before pulling back just enough to look at you, her bright blue eyes fixed on yours with such dramatic disappointment that you almost have to fight the urge to look away.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with everything lately that I barely have enough time to sleep.”

The apology comes naturally because it’s the truth. Between the café, Yoongi, and everything else occupying your mind lately, visiting your brother has somehow ended up at the bottom of your priorities, even if you’ve thought about coming more times than you can count.

Celeste sighs drastically, though the warmth never leaves her expression.

“I’ll forgive you this time.”

She links her arm with yours before leading you toward the kitchen, already talking about dinner before you’ve even taken your coat off.

Dohyun is standing in front of the stove with a wooden spoon lazily stirring whatever is inside one of the pots, looking far more confident than someone with his complete lack of culinary abilities has any right to look. You can’t help but laugh.

You know your brother well enough to recognize the performance immediately. There isn’t a single chance that anything you’ll be eating tonight has actually been cooked by him. If anything tastes good, it will be entirely because of Celeste. The spoon in his hand is nothing more than a prop, one he’s probably been holding for less than thirty seconds before you walked in.

As soon as he notices you’ve finally arrived, he abandons his imaginary role as chef and walks over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a brief hug before immediately letting go again.

“Just so we’re clear..” he says with the same teasing expression he always wears around you, “she’s the one who insisted you come. Personally, I would’ve been perfectly happy if you’d stayed home.”

You roll your eyes before folding your arms across your chest, unable to stop yourself from smiling anyway.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

He clicks his tongue dramatically, muttering something under his breath that makes Celeste shake her head with an affectionate smile before nudging him out of her way so she can actually finish cooking.

While she adds the last few ingredients to dinner, you move around the kitchen together, setting the table as the conversation flows effortlessly from one subject to another. She asks how work at the café is going, whether your manager is still impossible to deal with, whether the regular customers are behaving themselves, and somehow manages to make you laugh more than once as you complain about the increasingly ridiculous requests people seem to come up with every single day.

The sudden ring of the doorbell startles you, making you flinch. The fork in your hand nearly slips from your grasp before you manage to steady it. Celeste immediately brightens.

“Oh, he’s here!”

You barely have enough time to wonder who she’s talking about before footsteps echo through the hallway.

A second later, Jungkook appears in the kitchen with the same effortless smile that you’ve come to know so well.

“I brought wine!”

Your smile remains on your face purely out of instinct. You weren’t expecting him to be here.

Not even remotely. And suddenly every bit of calm you’d managed to build over the past few minutes disappears without warning, because standing in the same room as him is already difficult enough on a normal day, but standing in the same room as him after that dream feels almost unbearable.

No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself it meant nothing, no matter how many times you’ve told yourself that dreams are just dreams and should stay exactly where they belong, your mind keeps dragging you back to it, making it impossible to separate reality from the embarrassing memories your stupid brain has decided to create. It’s exhausting. More than anything, it’s humiliating.

Jungkook greets everyone one by one exactly as he always does. He wraps Celeste in a warm hug, exchanges a firm handshake with Dohyun before finally making his way toward you.

Your stomach drops the moment you realize he’s leaning down to greet you with a kiss on both cheeks.

Complete panic takes over before you can even react.

“Hello, sweetheart.” The nickname is nothing unusual. He’s called you sweetheart more times than you could ever count, always with the same casual affection, always without attaching any hidden meaning to it whatsoever.

So why does hearing it now suddenly make your entire body tense?

Your thoughts scatter in every possible direction.

You’ve spent years making sure he never notices anything.

You’ve always forced yourself to behave normally around him, making sure that your voice and your actions never betray the slightest hesitation that could reveal what you’ve spent so long trying to bury. You’ve become so good at pretending that sometimes you’ve almost managed to fool yourself.

But that stupid dream has ruined everything.

It has unsettled you in ways you hadn’t thought possible,making something you’ve done hundreds of times suddenly feel impossible.

Trying to return the greeting before the silence becomes awkward, you instinctively turn your head toward him at exactly the wrong moment.

Instead of moving past each other naturally, you both shift in the same direction. For one impossibly long second, your faces end up only a few inches apart.

Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

Close enough that your brain completely forgets how to function.

A startled squeak escapes your lips before you quickly stumble backward, almost tripping over your own feet in a desperate attempt to put some distance between the two of you.

“Sorry.”

The apology leaves your mouth automatically- barely louder than a whisper.

Without giving yourself the chance to look at him again, you immediately turn back toward the table, pretending to be completely focused on adjusting the cutlery, straightening glasses that don’t actually need straightening…anything to keep your hands occupied long enough for your racing heartbeat to calm down.

Behind you, you hear a quiet chuckle. Not mocking, just amused by the awkwardness of the moment.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on what happened. He simply walks back over to Dohyun as if nothing unusual has happened at all, immediately slipping into whatever conversation your brother and his wife were already having.

Their voices continue in the background, blending together until they become nothing more than an indistinct murmur.

You don’t catch a single word. The only sound you’re capable of hearing is the relentless pounding of your own heart echoing inside your ears.

At this point, you’re convinced you’re actually losing your mind. Because this isn’t you. You’ve never been like this around him. And whatever that dream has done to you, you have to shake off the lingering effects of it before anyone catches on. Especially Jungkook.

Because if this keeps happening every time he simply stands a little too close to you, surviving the rest of this dinner is going to be far more difficult than you ever imagined.

.✦ ݁˖

Eventually, everyone settles around the table, the dishes Celeste has prepared are now arranged neatly in the center, filling the room with the comforting smell of home-cooked food. She watches everyone with quiet satisfaction as you begin helping yourselves, insisting that nobody leaves the table hungry before she even thinks about serving herself.

For the first few minutes, the only sounds are the clinking of cutlery against plates and the occasional compliment directed at Celeste, who pretends not to care despite the proud smile that keeps finding its way back onto her face.

“So… Hawaii, huh?”

Dohyun is the first to speak, glancing across the table at Jungkook with an amused smile that immediately tells you he already knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s about to get.

Sure enough, Jungkook’s face lights up almost instantly. His eyes brighten with unmistakable excitement, and although he tries to sound casual, there’s no hiding how much he’s looking forward to it.

“Sophie and I have always wanted to go there.” he explains, resting his forearms against the edge of the table. “We figured it would be the perfect opportunity to finally cross it off our bucket list, especially if we get to spend the time there with the people we love.”

Without saying a word, you reach for the bottle of wine beside your plate and slowly fill your glass, keeping your eyes on the dark liquid as it rises while quietly listening to the conversation around you. You have to admit it’s an incredibly thoughtful idea. Most couples would probably choose to leave on their own, taking advantage of the chance to spend a few peaceful days together before getting caught up in the chaos of the wedding. Instead, they’ve decided to turn it into something everyone can share, inviting the people closest to them to create memories together before one of the biggest days of their lives.

It’s genuinely a very kind gesture.

“The hotel’s incredible!” Jungkook continues with an excited laugh, shaking his head as though he still can’t quite believe they’ve actually booked it. “Seriously, you guys have no idea. We’re going to have so much fun.”

Celeste immediately starts asking questions, wanting to know every little detail she hasn’t already heard. Has he planned any excursions? Have they already decided what you’ll be doing each day? Before long, however, the conversation naturally shifts away from Hawaii altogether and settles on the wedding instead, with Celeste enthusiastically asking about final fittings and all the little details that still need to be taken care of before the ceremony.

You remain mostly quiet, occasionally taking another sip of wine while absentmindedly moving food around your plate, but every time someone mentions the wedding, you feel something inside your chest tighten ever so slightly.

Almost two months. The thought slips into your mind before you can stop it.

Almost two months, and everything will finally become real. Once Jungkook is married, there won’t be any room left for impossible fantasies or foolish hopes you’ve never allowed yourself to voice. Whatever feelings you’ve carried in silence for all these years will have nowhere left to go except the furthest corners of your mind, where you’ll force them to stay until they eventually become nothing more than distant memories.

The wedding will be the point of no return.

As painful as that thought is, maybe it’s exactly what you need. Maybe accepting reality completely will finally allow you to leave all of this behind.

“Sweetheart, what about you? What’s new?”

The sound of Jungkook’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts so suddenly that you almost flinch.

When you look up, you find him watching you with genuine curiosity, his attention entirely focused on you now while everyone else waits for your answer.

Almost instinctively, you shift in your chair.

The appetite you had only moments ago disappears without warning.

“Yeah… uh-” You clear your throat, forcing yourself to smile. “I’m doing okay. Just working, as usual.”

You hide behind an easy answer. Simple enough that nobody has any reason to question it. The truth, however, is that work hasn’t been the only thing occupying your thoughts lately.

For quite some time now, you’ve been seriously considering going back to college, although this time you would choose a completely different path from the one you walked away from years ago.

Whenever your mind drifts back to Law school, you don’t remember the lectures or the exams first. What comes back instead is the overwhelming exhaustion that slowly swallowed every part of your life, until finding the strength to get out of bed every morning felt like climbing a mountain. You remember forcing yourself to sit through classes that left you feeling emptier every single day, convincing yourself that if you just kept pushing a little longer, eventually things would get better. They never did.

Little by little, you stopped recognizing yourself.

Walking away had felt like admitting failure.

For months afterward, you carried that guilt everywhere, convinced you had given up because you simply weren’t capable of finishing what you’d started. Only much later did you understand that leaving had probably been the healthiest decision you’d made in years.

Your therapist helped you see that.

Week after week, she gave you the space to untangle thoughts you hadn’t even realized were weighing you down, helping you rebuild yourself piece by piece until life slowly stopped feeling like something you merely had to endure. She didn’t just help you recover, she helped you remember that you were allowed to choose a future that actually made you happy.

Somewhere during that process, a new possibility quietly began taking shape.

You found yourself wondering what it would be like to become the kind of person who could offer someone else the same support you had once needed so desperately. The idea of studying psychology had never crossed your mind before, yet the more you thought about it, the more it felt like something that genuinely belonged to you instead of something you were trying to convince yourself to love.

Nothing has been decided yet. For now, it’s simply an idea you’ve been carefully protecting.

Saying it out loud somehow makes it feel fragile, as though sharing it before you’re absolutely certain might make it disappear altogether.

So you keep it to yourself. When the time feels right, everyone will know.

Until then, work is a much easier answer.

“That’s very good.” Jungkook says with an encouraging smile, completely unaware that behind those few ordinary words lies a future you’re still too afraid to speak into existence.

.✦ ݁˖

The rest of the evening passes almost effortlessly, the conversation flowing from one topic to another without anyone ever having to force it. Laughter fills the room so often that, after a while, it becomes part of the background, blending with the sound of glasses being refilled.

You find yourself laughing too.

Watching Dohyun and Jungkook together has always been strangely comforting. Every now and then, you forget just how deeply they care for each other until you see them sharing stories only the two of them could possibly understand, interrupting one another to argue over details that happened years ago before inevitably bursting into laughter halfway through the disagreement.

Their friendship has never needed to be explained.

It’s visible in the way they look at each other whenever one of them starts telling an old story, already knowing exactly how it’s going to end. It’s there in the effortless teasing, in the familiarity that only comes from growing up side by side, from making mistakes together, from witnessing every version of the other person without ever choosing to leave.

They begin reminiscing about college, laughing over disastrous group projects, impossible exams, nights spent surviving on instant noodles and energy drinks because neither of them had enough money-or enough common sense- to take proper care of themselves. Celeste rolls her eyes every few minutes, clearly having heard these stories countless times before, yet she still smiles as though she’s listening for the first time.

You quietly watch them while tracing the rim of your wine glass with your fingertips.

The thought slips into your mind before you can stop it- if Dohyun and Jungkook had never become friends, your life would have looked completely different.

You probably never would’ve met him. Maybe your heart would’ve belonged to someone else by now, you would’ve fallen in love with someone capable of loving you back.

Maybe you would’ve spared yourself years of silently carrying feelings that were never yours to confess.

Life would’ve been easier, and the thought should comfort you. Instead, all it leaves behind is an emptiness you don’t quite know how to explain.

Because imagining a life where Jungkook doesn’t exist somehow hurts even more than imagining one where he never becomes yours.

By the time dinner is over, it’s much later than anyone had realized. Plates have long been emptied, glasses abandoned wherever the conversation happened to carry them, and the evening slowly begins coming to an end.

After helping clear the table despite Celeste’s insistence that she’ll take care of everything tomorrow, you finally make your way toward the front door, stepping outside.

You and Jungkook say your goodbyes almost at the same time, thanking Celeste for dinner while Dohyun reminds you (for what feels like the hundredth time) that you should visit more often.

You promise you will. Whether you actually manage to keep that promise is another matter entirely.

The two of you start walking side by side toward your cars at an unhurried pace, the quiet residential street almost completely empty at this hour. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It rarely ever is. Which is exactly why his voice catches you completely off guard.

“So… I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You glance at him, curious.

“Why don’t you want me to know who the guy you like is?” For a split second, you genuinely forget how to breathe. Your body almost comes to a complete stop before you force your feet to keep moving.

This is a nightmare. You need to get away from this conversation before it goes any further.

Lately, he’s been asking too many questions.

Questions that seem harmless to him but feel dangerously close to the truth every single time they leave his mouth.

The fear you’ve been trying so hard to ignore suddenly settles heavily inside your chest.

What if he’s starting to suspect something?

What if you’ve already slipped up without realizing it?

What if all those little moments you thought you’d hidden so carefully haven’t been nearly as invisible as you convinced yourself they were?

“Well…”

The word hangs awkwardly in the air while your mind desperately searches for something, anything, that sounds believable. Nothing comes.

The longer you stay silent, the worse it becomes.

Every passing second feels like another opportunity for him to look a little closer.

Another chance for him to see straight through you.

“I’m… embarrassed.” you admit quietly, forcing the words out before your silence says too much. “I don’t want you to pity me.”

He stops walking altogether. Before you even have time to react, his hands gently settle on your shoulders, turning you toward him until you’re left with no choice but to meet his eyes.

“You know I’d never do that.”

His voice is calm. Reassuring.

“You can trust me.”

For a moment, you simply stare at him.

The streetlights are too far away to do much, leaving the stars above to cast the softest light across his face. His eyes seem impossibly bright beneath the night sky, warm and open in that way that’s always made it so easy to believe every word he says.

He’s breathtaking.

Kindness has somehow found a permanent home inside him, because every expression he makes is genuine.

The longer you look at him, the more impossible it becomes to imagine a version of your life where you never fell in love with him.

You know there never was one.

The outcome had been decided long before you ever realized what was happening.

“I know that, Kook…” you whisper, forcing a small smile onto your lips. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

He studies your face for another second before finally letting his hands fall back to his sides.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t insist. He never does. The two of you start walking again, and this time silence settles between you for good. You knew this would happen. You should’ve never opened up to him in the first place.

The day he asked whether there was someone you liked, you should’ve laughed, denied everything and taken that lie with you to your grave if necessary. Instead, you’d let yourself feel safe. That has always been the problem.

Jungkook has never made you feel out of place. Never made you feel foolish. With him, words seem to come easier than they should. Before you even realize it, you’ve already confessed things you swore you’d keep to yourself forever.

You reach his car before either of you says another word. A warm breeze brushes past, gently lifting strands of your hair before carrying them across your face. He unlocks the car but doesn’t immediately reach for the door.

Instead, he turns back toward you.

“You know I’ll always be there for you, Y/n.” His voice is quiet, almost swallowed by the night around you. “You don’t have to be scared. Not with me. I’d never judge you. There isn’t anything you could tell me that would ever make me think less of you.”

Your chest tightens so suddenly it almost hurts.

That’s who Jungkook has always been.

No matter how difficult life becomes, he somehow always knows exactly what to say to make the people he loves feel safe. He has spent years reassuring you without ever realizing how much those words mean, constantly reminding you that you can lean on him whenever things become too heavy to carry alone. He’s always been there. Every single time.

It doesn’t matter how much pain loving him has caused you over the years- you’d go through it all over again if you knew Jungkook would still be by your side.

You keep telling yourself that everything will get better once the wedding is over. You repeat it so often that it should feel true by now. Somewhere deep in your heart though, you know it won’t.

Instead, you feel as though your entire life has begun revolving around a date that doesn’t even belong to you, as though you’re counting down to a moment that will change everything while having absolutely no place in it.

It’s like you’re standing on the outside of someone else’s story, watching it unfold exactly the way it’s supposed to while desperately wishing your own heart would stop acting as though it has any right to break.

You look at him and, despite yourself, a small smile finds its way onto your face.

His expression remains neutral for a second, almost curious, before he unconsciously mirrors you, the corners of his lips lifting into one of those wide, teeth-showing smiles.

Your heart shatters quietly. This is the smile Sophie gets to come home to every evening after work. This is the smile waiting for her at the end of an ordinary day, the smile that belongs to her life, her future.

Is this the same smile he’ll have on his face when he’s standing at the altar, waiting for her to walk toward him?

Will this same expression light up his face the first time he holds one of their future children?

The images appear so vividly inside your mind that they almost feel real. For years, you’ve waited for a miracle that was never coming.

You’ve spent countless nights lying awake, whispering desperate prayers into the darkness, begging anyone who might be listening to let things somehow work out differently, to let the impossible happen just once, to let him choose you. Nothing ever answered.

Your lips begin trembling before you even realize it. The warmth behind your eyes builds so quickly that it catches you completely off guard.

You try to stop it before it fully settles in, but it’s already there. you blink once, then twice, hoping it will clear, but it doesn’t work. It lingers anyway, impossible to push away, rising quietly no matter how hard you try to hold it back.

A single tear escapes despite your efforts, slipping silently down your cheek before falling onto the pavement between your feet.

“Sweetheart…”

His voice is barely above a whisper, and you can’t look at him. If you meet his eyes now, you’re terrified he’ll finally see it. Not the tears, but the love behind them. The years you’ve spent hiding every glance, every heartbeat, every impossible feeling.

You lower your head, desperately willing yourself to stop crying, but before you can say anything, you suddenly feel his arms wrap carefully around you. The embrace is gentle. Uncertain at first, as though he’s trying to comfort you without overwhelming you. His familiar scent surrounds you almost instantly, leaving no room for anything else. Without thinking, you cling to him firmly, burying your face against his chest until you’re no longer sure whether the tightness in your lungs comes from crying or simply from being so impossibly close to the one person you’ve spent years trying not to love. You don’t know what finally broke inside you.

You don’t know why tonight, of all nights, your emotions refuse to stay where you’ve always managed to keep them. All you know is that no place in the world has ever felt as safe as his arms. You could stay there forever if life were kinder.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” he murmurs softly above your head, his hand gently rubbing slow circles against your back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you immediately reply. The words come out in a breath that feels thinner than you expect, almost unstable. Admitting it out loud somehow makes everything inside you a little harder to hold together.

Jungkook eases out of the hug just enough to look at you properly, not creating distance, just shifting so he can see your face better. His hands stay on you for a moment longer before rising with quiet care, fingers gently cupping your face in a way that feels so casual it almost makes your chest ache.

He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t fill the silence immediately, just studies you for a second, his gaze soft but focused, as if he’s trying to gather all the pieces of you that are falling apart together.

Then, with a patience that never seems to run out when it comes to you, he wipes away what’s left of your tears, his thumb brushing carefully beneath your eye, slow enough to feel unfair.

“Please don’t say that.” he murmurs, voice low and steady, completely unbothered by the tension you can’t seem to shake off, “nothing’s wrong with you, love. I promise things will get better.”

Love.

It lands in your chest in a way you don’t know how to explain, not because it’s new, but because he says it like it belongs there without question.

You want to believe him. You really do. But you know your own reality too well for that kind of comfort to fully reach you.

Still, you nod faintly, not because you agree, but because you don’t trust your voice to hold up if you try to argue with him.

After a moment, his hands slowly fall away, though the reluctance is clear in the way he does it. The absence of his touch hits you more sharply than you expect, leaving behind a quiet emptiness that settles under your skin without asking permission. The air suddenly feels colder, or maybe it’s just the sudden return of awareness.

You take a small step back, quickly wiping at your face as if you can erase the evidence of the moment before it settles too deeply between you.

There’s a pause. Not awkward exactly, just still.

Jungkook exhales softly, glancing toward your car before looking back at you.

“Text me when you get home.” he says, quieter now, the tone shifting back into something familiar.

You manage a small nod. “I will.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips, gentle and unforced, and he lifts a hand in a small wave that feels simple but strangely personal. “Drive safely.” he adds.

“You too.” you reply, voice steadier than before, though it still doesn’t feel entirely like it belongs to you. You both linger for a second longer than necessary, neither of you moving immediately, as if there’s an unspoken agreement. But eventually the silence settles into something final enough that it dissolves on its own. You turn first toward your car. He does the same a moment later.

No dramatic goodbye, no lingering hesitation that changes anything, just two people returning to their separate directions.

You get in. He gets in.

And when the engine finally starts, the night feels suddenly wider, like the space between you has expanded in a way you can’t quite measure but immediately feel. You don’t look back again.

And as you drive away, with the silence pressing against every corner of the car, a single thought settles in your mind with uncomfortable clarity: in a situation like yours, things hardly ever get better.

They just learn how to hurt in quieter ways.

───────────

author’s note:

They’re going to Hawaii! As I wrote in the chapter- predictable but sooo good :P

Also!!!!! I recall someone telling me how they could see y/n studying psychology and I was like “yeah i mean that could happen but who knows”… brooo I couldn’t spoil it for anybody but I was left speechless😭

Anyway I truly hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, as always please let me know what you think of it!💘