eleven || pjm
“After you and Jimin break up to pursue your separate goals to achieve life’s success, Jimin tries to rekindle the spark that’s been flickering ever since the split.”
🕚 Pairing: Jimin x ex!Reader (f)
🕚 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Angst, song-inspired, exes to lovers (why do I always do this trope?)
🕚 Word Count: 5.0k
🕚 Warnings: Major character death, brief description of death scene (blood, body position, scene itself) -> It’s not detailed
🕚 Betas: @hoebii and @moccahobi // The amount of feedback and comments I received were so overwhelming. I’m so honored to have you both beta this piece. I feel like I don’t deserve to have such amazing betas D: Thank you both for making this piece sparkle. The common denominator comment was “oh no oh no oh no” lol. Thank you for the great reactions.
🕚 Author’s Note: This is inspired by YUNGBLUD and Halsey’s song 11 Minutes (feat. Travis Barker). I really love the story they created and the mv always gets me so emotional. Dom’s explanation of the song is so heart-wrenching that I just wanted to write about it. I hope you enjoy it. I’ve had a really bad case of writer’s block lately, so I’m trying to break through that. That being said, I apologize if it’s a little bleh. Also, who would’ve thought fanfic would allow me to work on my editing skills. Kinda’ proud of the banner.
🕚 Song: 11 Minutes by YUNGBLUD, Halsey (feat. Travis Barker)
“Modern society teaches us that being successful or powerful is kind of more important than loving someone else.” - Dom, YUNGBLUD
Success and power are vital in one’s life. Success means being financially stable while having power means having the opportunity to claim what you desire from anywhere, anyone, and however one might see fit. Those are life’s top priorities.
Be successful. Be powerful.
While love is powerful, it doesn’t equate to success. Find success. Obtain power. Then maybe you can find love.
Jimin scoffs as the shit advice lulls in his mind. He forms a trench in the middle of his living room. It was easy to believe those words once upon a time. A time where he sought advice from those around him in the crowded confines of high school. From teachers to advisors to parents to friends.
But where did happiness come into play?
Was it supposed to be when he found success? Was he supposed to feel happy during his journey to success? Or maybe when he gained enough power to use others as carpet? When was he supposed to smile?
No one provided an answer to that.
The light from his phone blares in the darkness of his apartment that was near campus. His thumb hovers over the telephone icon as he debates with himself. He hasn’t spoken to you since you both went your separate ways three years ago. His eyes dance over the grey circle with your initials in the middle that replaced the years-old photo of your smiling face. He always found your smile painstakingly beautiful, but now it hurt in another way. He wasn’t sure how long he could cradle his trembling heart in his hands before it crumbled in his palms.
Taking a deep breath, he slammed his thumb on the screen harder than necessary.
Then a click.
“Hello?” Jimin’s voice is hoarse, filled with emotions he is slowly coming to understand. Resentment. Guilt. Fury. Sadness.
“Jimin?” Comes the soothing voice he’s heard echoing in his dreams. The dreams that involved you both in high school, sharing laughs in different locations—the classroom, the cafeteria, your home, the café near his home, your parent’s lake house. All the places he remembers fondly with you. It all comes flooding back with his name falling from your lips.
There’s a pang in your chest and you’re filled with disbelief as you wait for his reply. His name flashing across your screen yanked you back into the past so fast you were dizzy. There’s an inkling of happiness that feels foreign to you now. A feeling that was felt so regularly was shriveled throughout the years. Your heart hammers in anticipation, yearning to hear the voice you told yourself to get over repeatedly.
You were meant to be the “it” couple from high school. That couple that was disgustingly perfectly molded for the other. You were the couple that had their faces plastered in the yearbook’s superlative section for “Couple Most Likely to be Together in 100 Years.” It was silly to Jimin, but not to you. He wished that turned out to be true.
“H-hey,” he repeats, dazed with the memories of you.
“Did you need something?” Your voice is low, wavering, and unsure. Almost as if you would shatter glass if you spoke too loudly. Surely, he wouldn’t be calling just to chat. Not after years of zero contact. While you were hopeful, you were also leary of his intentions. He was never a manipulator, but your walls were too thick to allow a single crack.
“N-no,” then hurriedly, “I mean yes. I-” Jimin struggles for his words. He takes a deep breath, pauses, then releases gradually.
“How are you?” He tries again. There’s silence on the other end that stops his heart. He pulls the phone from his ear to check if the call is still connected. It is.
“I’m fine,” you reply curtly. You’re still on the edge, teetering on if you should hang up or if you should hear him out. There’s a sliver of wishfulness that he’s calling to tell you he wants you again. That he misses your touch and the sound of your voice. But that puts your heart on the line, and it’s already too fragile.
Jimin misses when your reply would entail a dramatic story of how your day went, even if he was there at some of the events. The short answer arouses a sense of detachment and he wants to pinch himself for allowing this to happen.
His pace across his living room slows.
“That’s good,” he answers. “Are you almost on summer break?”
Jimin glances at his couch, legs aching from how much he’s moved them in the last hour, but he’s still too nervous to sit.
“Yes,” you say slowly. Jimin can sense your uneasiness.
“Would you want to meet up soon then? M-maybe we can visit the café.”
Jimin doesn’t need to elaborate on which café he is referring to. After lounging in the café near his house for hours upon weeks, it became the third home for you both—your own homes, each other’s, then the café.
The hope in your chest begins to bloom along with your anxiety. Your heart races at the idea of being in close proximity again. To see the face you could never rid from your memory no matter how hard you tried.
Belatedly, “I’ll be in town in two weeks. Does eight work for you? I’m busy in the morning.”
Jimin opens his mouth to reply eagerly but stops himself. He feels you’ll scurry off if he’s too brash.
“Whatever works for you,” he says, hoping you can’t hear the pounding of his heart over the line. “Eight is perfect.”
“Okay,” you respond. Jimin presses the phone closer to his ear as you speak, trying to decipher your emotions over the call. Were you excited like him?
“Okay,” he echoes. “I’ll see you then. I-I’m glad to hear from you again, Yn.”
“Me too,” your voice comes out as a whisper before the call flatlines.
Jimin’s hands are shaky when he pulls the phone from his ear. He locks his phone and tosses it on the couch, running his hands through his unkempt hair. His heart has yet to slow, making him feel the need to move in order to get the jitterbugs out of his system.
So he imprints his steps into his living room floor as he paces the small area again until the clock strikes two in the morning.
The café is a 15-minute drive from his house in his hometown. Ten if he speeds.
Despite this, he is running late.
Two weeks whirled past him. The short, quick text messages exchanged between the both of you had Jimin’s palms sweat. In his three years of college, he’s never been happier. The messages occurred daily but never longer than an hour. He wasn’t sure if you were too busy or if it was just a coincidence. No matter, he would take the thirty one-sentence messages rather than none.
The advice he remembered earlier rings in his ears as he rushes to find his misplaced car keys. His carefully fixed hair is becoming undone as he dashes around his home. Why did he consume their advice like they were scared words? Would things have been different if he followed his heart rather than his head?
An exasperated huff escapes Jimin’s parted lips when he finally catches sight of his keys. He snatches them up, storms his way past his front door, and slides into his car.
He can make that.
The ride stirs a mixture of emotions in his chest. The familiar windings of the road have him recalling memories of the two of you.
“Don’t you know the eight ball goes in last?” Jimin chuckled as his gaze lingered on the pocket the ball you hit rolled into then to your remaining solid balls scattered across the green cloth. Your glare told him no.
“Claws in, kitten,” he teased and plucked the black ball from the pocket. He placed it back in its previous location then took a step back.
“Oh, look, the Time Fairy appeared and rewound time. It looks like it’s your turn,” Jimin nodded his chin toward the table. “Again,” he mumbled with a small smile that was a borderline smirk.
Your glaring lasted a few seconds longer before you lifted your chin and moved toward the table. Your eyes dropped down and found your next hit. You aligned the cue stick, narrowing your eyes as you calculate your angle, then made your shot.
Your shoulders slumped when the blue ball you were aiming for stopped a few centimeters short of the pocket. Jimin “accidentally” bumped into the table, causing the ball to slowly roll into the pocket.
“Wow! What a shot, kitten!” Jimin exclaimed, offering you his charming smile.
“I give up,” you whined and set your cue stick across the table. You peered up at your boyfriend with a pout. Jimin laughed at your dramatic expression, setting his stick with yours before enfolding your body into his strong embrace. His pillowy lips found yours easily, caressing yours in a soothing kiss—causing tingles to race throughout your veins. No matter how many times your lips locked, the love-sick feeling never ceased.
“You did great,” he mumbled into your hair after he pulled away. He sealed a second kiss to your forehead and you allowed your body to melt into his at the tender touch. “Just not as great as me.”
“Babe,” you groaned and pushed against his chest to leave his grasp. Jimin’s hold tightened.
“I’ll make it up to you and buy you whatever you want at the café,” he replied and began moving toward the exit with you by his side.
“But you do that already,” you argued and glanced up at him.
“Fine,” he paused as he held the door open for you before taking you under his wing as you strolled to his car. “I’ll let you pay this time.”
“Jimin,” you huffed, causing Jimin’s laugh to echo in the half-filled parking lot.
If he didn’t think success and power were more important than love, would he still be filled with regret? Would the regret have been about not achieving his career goals instead of letting you slip through his fingers? If you were on the same path, would you both be going to the same college as each other? Would you have stayed together even then?
Jimin’s knuckles turn ghostly white as he forces himself to slow his speed when he rounds the corner. The café is in his sights.
There is no point in dwelling on the what-ifs. It isn’t as if he hasn’t done this already. No matter how much he calculated his past actions, the equation never added up. There was always something changing—always another follow-up question.
Things were changing though.
It’s been long enough to realize the empty gap in his heart wasn’t due to him not making progress to success—he was—but it was the lack of happiness in his life. And the biggest source of happiness came from you. With the endless study nights, he rarely found time for himself. He isolated himself from others and dug his head in his books. He wasn’t sure if he was cramming his nights with textbooks to distract his mind from you or if he was really trying to stay on top of his classes. It was probably both, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit he needed you because that would mean he was lied to all those years ago. That you were both lied to. You didn’t need each other; you needed to be successful.
He couldn’t remember the last time his smile reached his eyes.
After being seated, his phone rings. It’s two minutes until eight.
“Hey,” he answers, voice sounding more cheerful than anticipated.
“Hi Jimin,” you reply, the sound of your blinker emitting in the background. “I’m eleven minutes away. Sorry, I’m running late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin replies, unhesitantly. “Take your time. I’m in a booth to the right when you walk in.”
“Sounds good,” you pause and Jimin can hear the churn of your wheels as you take a turn. There’s a silence that signals he should hang up, but he can’t find the strength to. There’s an odd sense of comfort listening to your breath on the other line.
“I-I missed you,” you stutter after a moment, hesitant to reveal how you truly feel. Speaking it would make it true, and it worries you. After denying you still cared for the man for three years, it was difficult to allow yourself to be optimistic. You’ve been distancing yourself to keep your heart from fracturing for a second time, but as the days passed you just wanted to yank down your walls. So many jumbled thoughts were on the tip of your tongue. You had missed him all day. His face would appear every time you shut your eyes. He was prominent in your mind.
“I’m glad you called,” you added when you realize this meet-up was his doing. If it weren’t for his call two weeks ago, you would be hiding in your house as you shoved all the memories of you and him that this city resurfaced.
Jimin’s heart clutches in a way he hasn’t felt for years at your words. He stares outside the window, watching as the last bit of sun disappears along the horizon.
“I missed you too,” he breathes out shakily. He swears he hears a sound akin to relief from your end.
“I’ll see you soon then.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”
Three words die on his lips as the call disconnects. It’s too soon to say those words again but after years of ending a phone call with them, it felt strange not to. Maybe he could get back to that point in your relationship. It would come easy to him to fall back into that pattern with you. It’s not like that feeling left his heart. His entire body was stained by you. He was a fool to think he could scrub you off him.
The prospect of being able to hold you in his arms or feel the softness of your lips made his heart somersault. Hell, just being able to be in a six-foot radius made him giddy.
The thought of you moving on already is in the back of his mind. He knows it’s a possibility, but he would solve his emotions when that moment transpired. He’ll rather fantasize about you smiling and telling him you loved him than you frowning and saying you didn’t. Perhaps he is being delusional, but he would hold on to the hope you still wanted to rekindle what you both had.
As the minute ticks by, he grows disheartened. It’s been more than eleven minutes and you haven’t stepped foot inside the café. The coffee he ordered himself is becoming cold.
Perhaps there was traffic. There wasn’t any when he traveled, but maybe you were taking a different way. Or maybe he sounded too eager on the phone. Did that scare you?
The onslaught of questions pours on him as he bows his head and fiddles with his phone. You’ll call any second and tell him how you’ve hit every red light and were running later than planned. He’ll sigh in relief, tell you it’s okay again, and maybe he’ll get you to stay on the phone longer. The sound of your voice was comforting to him and it made warmth spread throughout his body.
The café is closing.
The staff tells him he has to leave and ushers him out so they can clean and go home. Jimin is distraught. His phone remains without notifications. He had heard you driving so surely you didn’t stand him up. But perhaps you were driving somewhere else and used that as an excuse to say you were on your way. No. That didn’t sound like something you would do. You wouldn’t go through that hassle instead of telling him a simple no.
Regardless, you don’t show.
It crushes him more than he’ll admit.
He sits in his car for a few minutes, thinking of what could have happened. He decides to drive the route you probably took if you were to go to the café from your home. Maybe he can find you stuck in traffic. It’s a silly idea, but he doesn’t want to believe you stood him up.
Just his luck.
There is traffic.
The cars in front of Jimin move at an agonizing pace. He’s tempted just to ring your cell and ask where you are, but he’s fearful he was right and you played him. He drives at an odd angle to see if there’s construction. Instead, he sees blue and red lights flashing in the middle of the four-lane road. There are three police cars and two ambulances, but none of them have their sirens on.
When he nears the accident, he spots parts of debris from the vehicles scattered along the road. He slows down more as he passes, partly due to being careful of not hitting anything or anyone and because humans are curious creatures.
Illuminated by the street and emergency lights are two cars—one bigger than the other. The smaller one is flipped on its top, some of its windows broken. The bigger car is upright, the head crunched significantly. Something about the flipped car pings familiarity but he’s not sure why. Whatever it is though, it’s strong enough to make him detour and park next to an empty cop car. He can hear the police direct him to get back in his car and leave when he steps out.
Jimin tells them something, but he’s not even sure what he’s saying. He’s too zeroed in on the upend car.
It’s not until he rounds a police car to get a better look that it clicks.
There’s an “I ❤ Billiards” sticker on the car’s bumper that he pranked you with. The packaging had said it was easy to remove, but from the torn, jagged edges and scratches across the surface, that was a lie. Despite the initial groans and whines from you when you first spotted it, he knew you were secretly fond of it. The sticker was more tattered from the last he saw it. It was as if you had tried to unstick him from your life, but similar to the strong adhesive, it wasn’t completely successful. There were still remnants of him.
Jimin walks dazedly to the front of the car. He staggers on legs that feel like twigs, struggling to support his weight. The soft pink of his cheeks is draining before he sees it.
The sight has him immediately reaching for the cop car for support, but it does nothing to stop the buckling of his knees as they collide with the concrete. The pain in his knee caps is nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
The flashing red and blue is reflected in your eyes that stare blankly into his. One arm lays limp outside your shattered window while your head rests at an uncomfortable angle. There’s blood on your body but he can’t see its origin from his blurry vision. He swears he can spot the slow rise and fall of your chest, but he knows in the back of his mind he’s just hallucinating. Your eyes are a void to your emotions and he can see the remnants of remorse. The look resembles how you looked at him the last time he saw you.
“Have you figured out which college you want to go to yet?” You questioned while you sat up from his warm embrace. Jimin’s hand glided down your back as you repositioned yourself to straddle his lap. He followed your lead and shifted so his back was propped against your headboard.
“Yeah, it’s in Seoul so it’ll only be a three-hour drive to see you.”
You gave him a smile, but Jimin could tell it wasn’t filled with the happiness he expected. He didn’t like the way his chest clenched involuntarily.
“That’s great, babe,” you said, flickering your gaze to his chest briefly. Jimin could sense your detachment and it scared him.
“What’s wrong? Three hours isn’t that bad. I’ll come to you so you can stay in your dorm.” Jimin reached up, wrapped his hands around your wrists then gently tugged you to his chest. Before you could protest, he encircled your back with his arms. Jimin waited for your body to relax, as it usually did when you were in his arms, but it never did.
Silence filled the room. The pounding of your heart was loud enough for Jimin to hear and he wondered what happened to have you so distressed. As he opened his mouth to reassure you again, you spoke.
“I got a scholarship,” you blurted. Your eyes closed as you rested your head against his toned chest. Despite wanting to mold your body into his, you couldn’t block the anxiousness from seeping in.
“What?” Jimin asked and pulled you away slightly to look at you. “That’s great news, kitten. You’re too intelligent to not get one.”
You hummed, a shy yet melancholy smile forming on your lips. Jimin scrunched his eyebrows when he noticed your lack of excitement.
“Isn’t that good, Yn?” He questioned. You bit your bottom lip in thought. Jimin could see the war you were battling internally and it caused red flags to sprout.
“I-It’s in the States,” you stammered and searched his eyes.
Jimin’s arms tensed around you. His crestfallen expression had you break eye contact. It was simply too painful to watch his face crumble.
“I-” Jimin started but stopped himself. He what? He’d fly every weekend to visit you? Once a month? He didn’t have that kind of money.
“I can call you every day. We can video chat,” Jimin said suddenly, eyes filled with hope that had you falling more in love.
“Yeah,” you answered, but you didn’t believe your own words.
Jimin knew it was wishful thinking. Every long-distance relationship he’d heard of ended in failure. The video calls were sufficient for the first few weeks, but as the semester got crazier, the less time the couple had for each other. They would end up drifting apart regardless of the attempts to salvage whatever was left.
“I would’ve denied it if it weren’t for the scholarship,” you added. “The university also has the major I want. My counselors believe I can be really successful there.”
While there was a glint of excitement in your eyes, the sorrow overpowered it. Jimin nodded in understanding. He was told Seoul was his best opportunity to excel in his career field. How could he pass up the opportunity to be first in his classes? With the tough competition in his field, he could use any leverage he could get to rise to the top.
“I’m happy for you,” Jimin replied. He meant it. He was genuinely proud of you and you knew that. But it didn’t make anything easier.
“Thanks,” you mumbled. Silence loomed over you both as you each got lost in your own thoughts. Your eyes trailed over his features. From his plump lips to his scattered moles across his forehead. You memorized every detail of his face and as each detail filed itself in your mind, your heart grew heavy.
“We’re not going to make it, are we?” You questioned and moved your gaze slowly to his. His eyes were dark, swirling with affliction and dread. You could already see his defense walls rising.
“I’d like to,” Jimin answered softly. “But I… It’s unlikely.”
“I love you,” you declared abruptly, the urge to tell him one last time too strong to ignore. There was a desperation to your voice Jimin has never heard before.
“I love you more, kitten.”
Jimin’s voice was gentle and angelic. You were so engrossed in the way his voice engulfed you that you didn’t realize the fallen tear on your cheek. Jimin was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, the coldness of his ring making you shiver slightly.
“I should go,” he whispered, almost reluctantly. You nodded meekly and climbed off his lap. He gracefully maneuvered off your mattress and strolled to your door.
“I can walk you out,” you offered and forced yourself to meet his eyes. In the brief time it took to move from your bed to your door, Jimin had his own tears sliding down his rosy cheeks. You mimicked his earlier actions and smoothly wiped at his cheek. He faintly leaned into your touch.
“It’s okay,” he murmured then with a deep breath, stepped away from you. His hand was on your door handle when you gripped his wrist.
“Wait. Please,” you begged. “C-can you,” you trailed off but glanced at his lips to indicate what you wanted. He seemed hesitant. His jaw clenched as he mulled over your request.
“Just this once,” he murmured and cradled the side of your face as he leaned in. “Just one more moment like this.” His breath tickled your face as he spoke.
The kiss was overwhelming. What started off as a gentle kiss quickly turned into desperate glides of lips and tongues. Both his hands were caressing your cheeks while yours clutched his lower back. There was no hatred in the kiss. You nor Jimin were upset with each other. You both had known this was bound to happen; high school couples rarely lasted after graduation. You told yourself it was just another hardship in your life. That letting Jimin go was the right thing to do. You didn’t allow yourself to imagine a life without him because then it would be too easy to follow him to Seoul.
Only when neither of you could breathe did you pull away. The gasps of breaths and harsh breathing filled your small bedroom. The rapid thumping of your heart matched his. He was the first to pull away.
He stared at you as he placed his hand on the handle again. Your eyes were wide, silently begging him to stay, but you knew this was for the best. This was destined to happen. This wasn’t going to work in the long run and you would need to focus on your studies more in college anyway. Maybe once you graduated from university could you try to reach out again. But who knows? He could forget about you by then. You had the briefest thought of if this was truly the route you wanted to take. Was everyone right to say you needed to be successful in order to thrive in life?
Before you could change your mind, Jimin opened your door and slipped behind it.
He had seen the turmoil behind your eyes. There was a flicker of tentativeness but he couldn’t allow himself to linger any longer than he already had. You had both known your fate. If you didn’t call it quits then, you would at graduation.
But maybe you could have made it work. Maybe if you both just tried.
From the look in your vacant eyes, he could sense the same thoughts had run through your mind. Were your last thoughts of him then? Did you die regretting listening to the same foolish advice he had been pondering over lately? Had you wished you told him you loved him one last time? Did you die wanting to hear him tell you he loved you more? He’s reminded of the way those words got caught in his throat earlier on the phone with you. Suddenly those three words tasted sour in his mouth.
His eyes refocus on you in the car.
He can’t breathe.
There’s a firm grip around his throat, blocking his airway. He feels as if the grim reaper is sucking his soul out of his fragile body. He might as well be.
Jimin can’t stop the sob that rips from his throat as his hands dig into the floor, unknowingly pressing into glass shards. He can’t feel the coldness of the concrete, the impaling of the shards, or the saltiness of his tears.
The voices around him sound distorted. They’re slow, drawn-out, and distant; but they don’t echo.
There are hands around his arms that he staggers out of.
“Please,” he hears his voice faintly in his ears. Has he been speaking this whole time?
He doesn’t make it one step because the set of hands are on him again—more forcefully this time. He tugs on the restraint, freeing one arm, but that doesn’t aid him in his escape. He’s grabbed by a second person.
He drags his feet, creating a pathway in the debris when the people pull him away from the scene.
Away from you.
Cold metal is enclosed around his wrists before he’s tucked inside a vehicle. He belatedly registers that he’s been handcuffed and stuffed inside a police car. He stares outside the window. Your static face is still in view and he presses his forehead against the chilled glass.
He squeezes his eyes shut and feels the streak of tears fall for the first time. Memories of the two of you replay in the darkness of his vision. He slams his head against the window in anguish. He needs to feel something other than this suffocating guilt.
When he opens his eyes, you’re still there.
Would things have been different if he didn’t believe the advice and sought success and power? Would he still be able to cradle you in his arms and kiss your lips swollen?
There’s nothing stopping the torrent of questions from drowning him. Everything he envisioned for the two of you came plummeting around his feet. He wonders if he will ever be able to find true success without you.
A shuddering whimper racks his body as he continues to torture himself by staring at your lifeless body.
He desperately wishes he could sell his soul for a bit more time with you.
“We don’t realize how much we need something until it’s taken away from us. We are so distracted and focused on what’s next, we can fail to see what is actually in front of us.” - Dom, YUNGBLUD
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1 + 14 on the angst list for jungkook? pleek
Once Was || jjk
"The arranged marriage forces you and Jungkook to realize the promise you made to each other is not as unbreakable as it seems."
From prompt list: “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” + “You’re choosing (her/him/them) over me?”
💍 Paring: Jungkook x Reader
💍 Rating/Genre: PG-15; Angst, arranged marriage au
💍 Warning(s): Heart break 😔
💍 Word Count: 2.1k
💍 Author's Note: Only proofread this once, which is abnormal for me since I usually do that 100 times. That being said, ignore any errors please hehe. Thank you so much, anon!!! I had fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it. It was nice to do something I don't normally do.
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The ring on your finger felt heavy.
Despite the sun shining on the silver band, it appeared dull in your eyes. The promise ring that once meant the world to you now was nothing but a piece of jewelry. You slowly slid the ring from your left hand, replacing it with your wedding ring.
It had been six months since you were forced to marry Jung Hoseok. What felt like a nightmare slowly morphed into a paradise. Your heart beat faster whenever Hoseok beamed his smile towards you. You felt jittery at every graze of his fingers on your skin. He had become your home.
However, there was guilt in your chest. If he were to ever find out about your rendezvous in the middle of the nights, he would not be pleased. Hoseok was a cheerful person, yet you have seen him angry. You did not want to be on the receiving end. Not because he was violent, but because his glare alone would be enough to have your knees buckle.
Though, falling for Hoseok was not the plan. Although your hand was forced, you were determined to find a way out of the marriage for your heart did not belong to Hoseok.
It belonged to one of the guards, Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook was a handsome man. His body was strong, yet his heart was soft. He was the first person you had noticed when your parents dragged you to Hoseok’s home. He had captured your heart within the few weeks of meeting him. Quick glances towards one another turned into lingering smiles. It wasn’t long until you found yourself hidden in the shadows with his mouth on yours. Your heart swelled at his touches and his sweet words had you swooning. Even though guards were allowed to have romantic partners, you both agreed it wasn’t a smart idea to go public when you were both from different social classes.
Two months into your relationship was when things crumbled around your feet.
Your parents had informed you you were to marry Hoseok, a royal with wealthy pockets. You were never a part of the meetings your parents had with Hoseok’s parents. Only then did you find out your parents were making a deal. A marriage to unite two wealthy homes in exchange for peace, information, and of course, more money.
You were scheduled to meet Jungkook that night in the gardens. He was already there when you had arrived. He had appeared nervous, but you never noticed. Your mind was too clogged with distress at the news.
You had run into his arms, tears swelling in your eyes as you clung to his solid body fr comfort. He shushed you softly. After telling him the news, he had tried to ease you.
“This won’t change things between us,” he had spoken. His hand brushed away the tears sliding down your cheeks.
“W-what do you mean?” You hiccuped, grabbing his hands in fear he would leave you. He smiled at you and slowly kneeled on one knee.
He had pulled out a simple black box. Inside was a silver band, both of your initials engraved on the inside. It was minimalistic. It had no diamonds that you were used to, but that didn’t matter.
“I-it’s a promise ring,” Jungkook had said nervously, not wanting to get your hopes up. “I had overheard the Jungs’ conversation before you arrived. I planned to ask you later but now seems like the right time. My love for you has not faltered because of the marriage. I know you love me, too. Your heart belongs to me, Yn. I promise we’ll find a way out of this. I promise I’ll never stop loving you.”
You had wanted to believe him—to trust that his words were factual. That everything was going to be okay and that this marriage wouldn’t break the bond you had with him. So with shaky hands and another hiccup, you had accepted his ring.
Since you had to wear Hoseok’s wedding ring, the promise ring resided on your right hand. To the public, it was just another decorative on your hand, but you and Jungkook knew its true meaning.
It wasn’t until now that you had slipped off Hoseok’s ring and replaced it with Jungkook’s.
But the feeling inside your chest was different than before. Jungkook’s ring made you uneasy. It had your brows furrowing with the thought something wasn’t right. Something about the ring no longer felt joyful.
Something about Jungkook’s ring on your left hand felt wrong.
Three raps on the door had you jump in surprise. You padded your way to the door, unlocking it, and slowly opening it.
A familiar figure hastily slipped inside and shut the door by pushing your back against it.
“Hey baby,” Jungkook whispered, a bunny-esque smile on display as he leaned down to peck your lips. “I missed you. You looked so beautiful today; it took everything in me not to pull you into a storage room.”
He chuckled at his words and kissed you again, this time, he kept his lips on yours. You followed his movements half-heartedly—always one beat behind. The usual smile you greeted him with was absent when he pulled away. The smile you tried to offer was pathetic and it didn’t take long for Jungkook to notice.
“D-did I hurt you when I pushed you? What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes quickly filling with worry as he eased his grip on your hips.
You shook your head. “No. I’m fi- I’m not hurt.”
Jungkook stared at you as he observed your face. You knew he could tell there was something off.
“What’s wrong then? You can talk to me,” he tried to soothe you. Your eyes flickered down to his chest. He was still in his guard’s uniform.
When you didn’t reply, he gently lifted your chin up with his finger. “Baby?” He questioned quietly. You could tell how worried he was from the way his eyes grew, making him appear younger with his Bambi-eyes.
Your throat tightened when you thought about it all. From the way your heart no longer beat for him, to the way his ring no longer brought you comfort. After weeks of brushing it off, you were slowly coming to terms with your new feelings.
Every kiss with Hoseok erupted butterflies in your stomach, while kisses with Jungkook now felt… Lackluster.
His words in the garden haunted you as his stare burned into you.
“You’re scaring me, baby,” he murmured, not sure what to do.
You kept your eyes on his chest when you replied. “S-sorry. I just… I think… We should-”
You broke off your choppy sentence with a sigh. The words were like acid. You knew it was going to break him, which ultimately made you want to back out. You could lie to him. You could pretend everything was fine.
But that was wrong and selfish.
Jungkook has always treated you with the utmost care and devotion. He didn’t deserve to be strung along.
“You’re so amazing,” you interrupted, eyes raising to his. He looked startled for a moment before a smile formed on his lips. He squeezed your hips and pulled you closer.
“You’re more amazing,” he said and pecked your lips again.
“T-thanks,” you answered awkwardly. You paused to gain courage. “I… I think you’re a great man. A man whose heart is too big for his chest. You’ve always been so supportive and you’ve made me feel so loved.”
Jungkook’s smile was faltering with every word you said. You dropped your eyes again, unable to see what you were doing to the man you once loved. He didn’t reply.
“You’ve taught me things that have made me a better person. You were the first man I ever truly loved and felt loved by. I’ll always appreciate that,” you continued and closed your eyes as you tried to recollect yourself. You could feel yourself on the verge of tears. The speech you had memorized was flashing behind your eyes, yet it did nothing to calm your nerves.
“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes met his. They were glossy, but his cheeks were dry. He was forcing himself to hold back his tears. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to make himself feel angry, but they quickly relaxed—replaced with dejection instead.
“You’ve been so good to me,” you answered, avoiding his question. You were hoping he would let it go, but you knew better. He wasn’t going to.
“Why the past tense? I’m going to continue being good to you, baby.” The pet name was said hesitantly. It was as if he could keep you tethered to him if he used the sweet name. If he used the word he was so accustomed to for you, it would make him feel more comfortable. Like nothing was wrong.
“I-I’m sure you would have been,” you said, wincing mentally at having used past tense again.
He stared at you silently. His eyes bounced from your somber face to your rigid body until his eyes caught on your hands. The only ring on your hands was Hoseok’s. Jungkook’s ring was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t on your right hand, where it usually was.
“You took it off,” he stated. If you could hear when a heart broke, you were sure you would’ve heard the sound now.
You tried to hide your hands behind your back, but Jungkook was quick to grab them. He lifted them up to his face as if his eyes were playing tricks with him. Surely it was still there.
“D-did you misplaced it? I won’t be mad if you did. It happens. I can get you anoth-”
“No, Jungkook. I didn’t misplace it.”
He swallowed harshly and slowly released your hands. Silenced loomed over the both of you as he stared at your hands. You involuntarily twisted Hoseok’s ring in nervousness as you waited for him to say something.
Although the huff was quiet, you could hear it loud and clear in the soundless room. “You’re choosing him over me?”
It was as if he had put all the puzzle pieces together. He looked up at your face still bowed. Like before, the flash of fury turned into anguish swiftly. His hands withdrew from your hips and he took a couple of steps away from you.
“You promised me,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wh- Was it something I did?”
You finally met his eyes again. This time, his cheeks were wet. Your heart was heavy at the sight. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and rock him until he felt calm, but that wasn’t going to be possible. Not when you were the cause of such sorrow.
“You did nothing wrong, Jungkook,” you reassured. “It’s- I just… I don’t feel the same anymore.”
He quickly wiped a tear falling and he pursed his lips together. His chest was rising and falling faster than before. He tore his gaze from you and shoved his shaky hands into his pockets.
“D-do you still have the ring?” He stuttered, eyes still not meeting yours. You nodded but remembered he wasn’t looking at you.
“Yes.” You started to reach into your pocket where it was hidden since you figured he wanted it back, but your movements were stopped by his reply.
“Keep it.” A sharp sniffle sounded in the room and you watched as he rolled his shoulders back and stood up straighter. His eyes found yours. They were still flooded with woe, but there was something else in his eyes. Something akin to determination.
Before you could reply, he spoke again. “I won’t wait forever, but maybe, if for some miracle you decide to come back to me, I want you to have it with you already.”
He made his way towards you and your heart thumped with the prospect of him touching you again. Despite your fading feelings for Jungkook, something about his words elicited former feelings. However, when he reached past you to grab the door handle, you quickly realized you were simply in his way.
He observed you silently as you moved away. His stare lingered on your eyes, lips tugging into a frown.
“I hope you’re happy,” he said softly before pulling the door open and sliding out. His words held no malice. You knew he truly wanted you to find happiness.
As you watched him walk down the corridor, you couldn’t help but want to call out his name. There was no reason for it. You had nothing left to say and making him stay longer would just be torturing him.
Although your heart was gradually belonging to Hoseok, you couldn’t stop the feeling of Jungkook walking away with a piece of it.
Refer to this prompt list and send in a request if you want ^-^
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Tonight || ksj
“People say your duty is to your heart rather than your head, but what happens when Seokjin’s heart is torn in two?”
💕 Pairing: idol!Seokjin x Reader (gn)
💕 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Fluff, angst, established relationship au
💕 Warning(s): Extremely soft Seokjin 😤
💕 Word Count: 1.9k
💕 Beta: @joyfulhopelox (Your feedback was incredible and I loved all the details in your review. You did so well and I’m honored to have had you beta my work! Thank you for being my extra eyes.)
💕 Projects: @btscreatorscorner‘s June “BTS” workshop and BCC Summer Games (POV activity)
💕 Author’s Note: Can you believe I’m still in this writer’s funk? 😭 This is me trying to get out of that. I normally write from “Y/N” POV with a female reader, but I tried something new! Thanks for being patient with me as I try to find my creative juices again. Shout out to Tonight by Seokjin aka one of my favorite songs okay bye enjoy
Seokjin knew better.
He knew better than to indulge in something so selfish—something so dangerously addictive. But how could he not? How could he not stay, arms snaked around your waist and nose buried in the nape of your neck? Your familiar scent filled his senses and he could feel his head become dizzy
Dizzy from your touch, your smell, your warmth.
The vibration emitted from your body told him you had said something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t decipher it. He couldn’t hear over the thumping in his chest or the angel on his shoulder yelling at him to leave now. Nevertheless, he hummed softly at your words.
Jin never imagined to have fallen so deeply so fast. Within a week of his month-long vacation, he had found you. It was your first day on the job and you were scrambling to complete his 7-drinks-and-7-pastries order alone. Luckily he was the only one in line, but your trainer decided you had had enough experience to leave you alone for five minutes while he took a call. It turns out that you didn’t have enough experience and Jin was sure you had put caramel in an iced americano by accident. Seokjin had felt bad and tried to decrease the number of items in his order to help, but you refused. You were determined to fully complete it and show you were capable of the job.
Something about your downturned lips and knitted eyebrows as you concentrated, lit a flame inside Jin’s chest. When he realized this was a losing battle, he attempted to cheer you up with a cheesy pun. It was the smile you beamed at him that got his breath caught in his throat. He suddenly was thankful he had lost at rock-paper-scissors.
His eyes fluttered closed as he pursed his plump lips against your soft skin. Your back was pressed against his chest. His kisses slowly traveled upwards toward your jaw as he engraved this moment in his memories. Your hands glided across his honey-skinned arms until your palms were resting on the back of his hands. Your fingers interlaced with his crooked ones, quiet giggles leaving your lips when Jin kissed the spot behind your ear. The sound made his heart tingle and he kissed the same spot to elicit the beautiful noise again.
He reluctantly pulled his mouth from you as you turned your head. The corner of your eyes crinkled slightly when your lips morphed into a smile. His hands involuntarily squeezed your sides at the sight. The fluorescent kitchen lights didn’t do justice to your breathtaking eyes.
It was then he decided he would succumb to you.
He was scheduled to leave for a year-long tour tomorrow. It was insensitive to keep you next to him when he knew he would have to depart in a few hours. However, he couldn’t find the strength to leave your small apartment. The warmth from your body was soothing. He was never supposed to fall for someone while still an idol. He had told himself that he’d settle down officially once he retired. He wanted to be able to put all his attention on his significant other and the family he hoped to build with them.
He was tempted to break it off with you before he departed so you weren’t left waiting for him, but he couldn’t let you go. He was too smitten to let you slip through his fingers like sand. Was it selfish to have you wait for him? Probably. Was he going to do anything about it? He had thought of one thing, though that included retiring early and he couldn’t abandon his brothers with such short notice.
But weren’t you worth it?
He knew you must have noticed the small furrow of his brows as he fought with himself mentally. You gently rested your palm against his cheek, twisting slightly in his arms to do so. His head tilted into your touch.
“You’re going to short-circuit with all the thinking you’re doing,” you teased and pecked another kiss on his lips. His eyes focused on yours, lips twitching at your comment but not forming their usual smile. Sighing silently, you turned in his grasp to face him properly. You raised your hands to rest on his shoulders while he placed his on your hips. He gently tugged your body closer until your chests were together. Feeling your body close to his always brought him comfort. And he could use that a lot right now.
“I don’t think I should go,” he murmured. Although his eyes were on yours, he wasn’t truly seeing you.
“How come?” You questioned. He knew you knew the answer, but asked regardless to allow him to talk about his worries with you. You both have had this conversation before, but he was still caught up on making a decision—leaving you or leaving his members.
“It’s too long of a wait. You’re going to get bored or upset or-”
“And what if I don’t?”
Jin shook his head and tore his gaze away from yours. “It’s inevitable. A year is too long away from each other. We haven’t even been together for a full month. We haven’t had the chance to really learn about each other. What if you forget about me? What if you realize this isn’t worth it?”
He understood these words were not new to you, yet you listened patiently as he voiced his concerns. He was grateful you allowed him the opportunity. He was sure you stayed up all night the day he told you about who he was, debating on these same issues. Could you truly wait for a man you’ve only known for three weeks? He thought the short time was crazy, but he has heard of people proposing three days into their relationship, so maybe he wasn’t so insane to feel so strongly about a person he barely knew.
You were unique.
You played his heartstrings in ways that no one else had, creating a song solely meant for you both. It was mesmerizing, and he held onto this feeling as he hoped your decision was to wait for him.
“It’s a possibility,” you replied truthfully. “But we’re not going to know if we don’t try. You could forget about me and realize it isn’t worth it, too, you know? With your busy schedule and countless people you run into... There could easily be another person you come across and see them as better than me.”
Jin was quick to disagree, “Not likely.”
“But you don’t know that,” you said almost in a sing-song manner. You playfully tapped the tip of his nose in hopes to keep the conversation light despite the serious topic.
Jin stayed silent as he mulled over his thoughts again.
“Are you willing to try?” You asked and ran your hands along the expanse of his shoulders. His shoulders relaxed under your touch when he realized how tense he was.
There were a lot of possibilities that he didn’t like. One, you could break things off faster than he can say butter. Two, his mood may not be up to par and affect the team’s performances. Three, you could find someone else who would be there for you while he was on tour, but keep it a secret.
These were scenarios that scared him and made him want to stay in your apartment. If he left, he would be letting you slip out of his life. It was extreme but he didn’t want to take the risk. However, you were right. He couldn’t predict the future. Things could go south regardless of if he was away from you or not. He hoped they wouldn’t, but trying was more important than running away. He would regret letting you go but he would also regret letting his members go. Although it wasn’t fair for you, every relationship is a give-and-take. He just wasn’t sure he could balance both.
“Of course,” he replied as he raised his eyes to yours. The smile he loved so much appeared and by the way his heart hammered in his chest, he knew he had to try.
“Then it’s settled,” you announced and tugged him closer. “I’ll video call you before every concert and if you have time, we can talk after, too.”
Jin’s reply was stopped when you pressed your lips against his. You hummed contently as you both moved your lips to each other’s rhythm.
“What-” Jin tried to speak.
“Babe,” Jin laughed against your lips when you kept pulling him towards you. He held your hips firmly to indicate he wanted you to stay still. While he loved your lips on his, he knew you were trying to distract him. He watched as you stared at him with a pout as you waited.
“What if you’re too tired to talk? We may be in different time zones.”
“Pffft. Time zones, slime jones,” you scoffed and went to kiss him again only for him to turn his face at the last second, causing your lips to peck his cheek instead. You grumbled and crossed your arms against your chest.
“It won’t matter,” you continued. “I’ll always have time to talk to you.”
Seokjin stared at you for a moment, stifling his laugh at your child-like stance. He gently grabbed your forearms and uncrossed your arms from your body. He slid his hands down to your hands, intertwining your fingers together before pulling them behind your back. His chest was pressed against yours, caging you between his arms. He just wanted to feel you close for as long as possible before he had to leave.
“That’s sweet, but I’m sure there'll be times when you don’t pick up because you’re asleep,” he responded, voice low.
“Wanna bet?” You challenged. Jin chuckled and lowered his face toward yours.
“Wanna lose?” He countered, lips ghosting yours teasingly. You scoffed and leaned into his kiss, only for him to pull away before you could fully press your lips to his. He noticed the way you suppressed the whine bubbling in your throat. He silently wished you didn’t.
“When I win,” you corrected. “You owe me a back massage.”
“Can’t I just give you a signed album? You know those are pretty expensive? I wouldn’t be upset if you sold it.” He teased.
“No,” you replied firmly. He sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips. It was worth a shot.
“And if you lose, you cook me dinner.”
“Fine. Deal,” you said hurriedly.
“That easy?” Jin smirked, pulling away from your second attempt to kiss him. You tried to pull him closer, but your arms were locked behind your back. Jin’s lips curled upward at your failed attempt.
“Shut up and seal this bet with a kiss,” you huffed, getting impatient at his constant teasing.
“Does it look like I care? Just k- Hmph!”
Seokjin’s smile widened at the cute noise, soaking up the feeling of your body against his as your mouths glided against each other’s. He felt your body instantly relax in his arms at his touch; his eyes fluttering close as he focused on everything you both were feeling through the kiss. There were risks staying in this relationship, but he didn’t know a relationship without any.
Seokjin’s grip loosened and you took the opportunity to break free from Jin’s trap. Your arms slithered around his body, taking a moment to feel his solid muscles beneath his shirt. Jin’s heartbeat was rapid at every touch and glide from your hands. Too many thoughts were roaming through his mind, but when you tangled your fingers in his hair, everything came to a halt. He could only sense you.
Your touch, your smell, your warmth.
Tonight he would allow himself to be selfish.
Tonight he wouldn’t think about the inevitable.
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