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Never Really Over
Disclaimers: I made and edited the above gif myself. That’s why I’ve used the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use, just please give me credit for the edit! I used some of the lines from Katy Perry’s lyrics to inspire and write this, but they belong to Katy.
So this imagine was inspired by the Katy Perry song “Never Really Over,” which, when I heard it for the first time, reminded me of the way my bias works. Yes, I am a Taehyung bias, but every two weeks or so, one of the other members of BTS wrecks me, and I mean WRECKS me to the point where I think, “This is it. This is when I change my bias.” But then Taehyung does something or posts a picture, and I instantly zip right back to him. I’ve been this way since I started stanning BTS, idk why, low-key, I think I’m secretly an OT7 fan.
Age Recommendation: 16+
Warnings: Sweeeeaaaaars (like always), ANGST with a happy ending, Taehyung being a sweetie-pie, no smut, might make a part two with smut idk, honestly, I hope this makes you laugh more than anything.
Word Count: 2,187
Summary: It had been two years since you broke up with Taehyung, and you were finally at the point where he stopped randomly popping into your head. But that didn’t stop him from randomly popping up on your social media, wrecking you into oblivion, and making you do stupid things.
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Oh no. Not again. I’m not falling into this rabbit hole again, not today, not ever. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again, that I’d draw the line and never think of you again, and I did. Or so I thought.
I tentatively scrolled down my feed back to the video of you singing your heart out to a sea of adoring fans, feeling a twinge in my chest as your voice reverberated throughout the stadium. How I missed that deep rumble, the one that drew me out of sleep each morning with a chuckle and a kiss.
Shaking my head, I attempted to push all thoughts of you out of my head. I didn’t miss you. I didn’t miss anything about you, no-siree, I was over you. Ugh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t even go on the internet without seeing you. I was losing it.
“Fuck this,” I thought, standing up from the bench and heading towards my favorite cafe. The bell over the door tinkled, bringing a memory to the forefront of my mind.
We sat in the booth in the far corner so we could have as much privacy as the cafe would allow. “It’s happening, jagiya,” he murmured, taking my hand. “I’m going on tour. I won’t be back for nearly a year.”
“I know,” I muttered in reply, looking down at my lap. I couldn’t be angry, hell, I couldn’t even be sad. We both knew this was coming. Ever since BTS’s popularity shot through the roof, he’s been getting more and more busy, constantly at practice, song-writing, or travelling.
“Hey, we can make this work,” he said, his voice soothing over the pain I was beginning to feel. “I’ll always come back to you, jagi.”
He reached over and grasped my cup, taking a sip from it before squinching his eyes up cutely. I laughed and playfully grabbed for it back. “Hey, that’s mine!”
“I don’t even know how you can drink this,” he said, still grimacing. “Coffee is so bitter.”
“It’s an acquired taste,” I said, giggling.
“Miss?”
A voice brought me back to reality, and I blinked a couple times before looking at the barista. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.
She gave me an amused smile. “I asked what you’d like to order.”
“Oh, uh… Hmmm, an iced Americano for today, thanks.”
“You got it. I’ll have it ready in a moment.”
“Thank you.”
I paid then sat down in a booth to wait, fiddling with my phone. My finger touched the fingerprint pad, powering on my screen to show that video once more. Cursing, I closed the app and jammed the thing back into my pocket.
“Miss? Your Americano is ready.”
I stood and took the cup from the girl, walking quickly back outside and sitting down on the bench again. I just couldn’t escape you. It’s like no matter what I did, you were there. You were always there… and not just because your face covered the internet the way clouds covered the earth. You were always in the back of my mind.
I felt my self-control slowly trickling away as I drew my phone out of my pocket, clicked it on, and opened a new message, typing in your name as the recipient. I never deleted your number, scared of breaking the last possible tie I had to you.
Ugh, no, stop. It’s done. It’s been done for two years now. I left my phone in my lap, trying and failing to concentrate on drinking my coffee instead. We parted amicably, with both of us acknowledging that our relationship was over due to you not being able to be the boyfriend I needed. Still, for weeks after we separated, I couldn’t help jumping every time someone knocked at my door, thinking it was you, or stopping guys on the street who even slightly resembled you. That had all faded away, though, so why were my nerves on fire once more?
Our relationship was terrible, or at least it was towards the end. You were constantly gone, and didn’t have time to call or video-chat me. You had to send me text messages on the down-low, scared your company would find out about us and force us apart, or that delulu fangirls would find out about me and come after me. We only spent time together twice in the last six months of our relationship, and I was beginning to get sick of explaining to my friends and interested guys why I was unavailable to date. The second time I saw you, you came over to my apartment wearing a mask, sunglasses, and a baseball cap.
“Sorry,” he said apologetically as he shed his disguise. “I had to circle the block a couple times… make sure I wasn’t followed.”
I threw my hands up. “This is insane!”
“What is?”
“This! This relationship! Taehyung, I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t normal!”
His mouth dropped open at my proclamation. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest and turning away.
Taehyung grasped my arms with his large, soft hands. “Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Let’s just talk about this.”
And talk we did. For hours. And we both came to the same conclusion: That our relationship was no longer working and in order for us to both be happy, we needed to let each other go. I reached up and touched my lips, remember the way you kissed me for the last time. Hard and deep, with both large hands on either side of my face, you kissed me until my heart broke cleanly in two.
Yet, even after all the pain I went through, I was surprised to find myself missing you even weeks after our break-up. Yeah, we were a mess, but it was the best mess I’d ever been in. By the time I figured out that life with you in it, as seldom as that actually was, was still better than life without you entirely, it was too late. You had moved on, and were becoming one of the biggest names in k-pop, no, in the world, ever. I had moved on, too… or so I thought.
Sure, I dated other guys. I even had a relationship that lasted a good six months… but none of it ever felt right. I broke up with the guy after he hinted he wanted to move in together, realizing it would never feel right no matter how much I tried to force it.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and clicked it open, staring at your name at the top of the text. What would happen if I just sent a simple, “Hey?” I let myself indulge in my imagination, thinking about the way you’d ecstatically respond, instantly sparking a conversation and lighting up my deadened heart. After a few days of texting, you’d ask to video chat, and I’d see the face that cracked my heart and soul into pieces, but this time, you were intent on mending all that. You’d come over just like old times, and we’d spend night after night together, intertwined so close we practically become one… But then you’ll leave. Again. Work will call, or your manager, or one of the other members, and you’ll leave spouting useless apologies and empty promises. Then I’ll have to get over you again.
Draw the line, I told myself. Draw it. No more. Yet even as I was thinking it, the side of me that missed you put a toe over that line, inching towards completely diving headfirst into the shit show I knew we’d forever be.
I opened the social media app again and watched that video of you singing for the third time. “Fuck it,” I thought, switching back to my messaging app and typing out a message.
Me: Hey. Just caught myself thinking about you and wondered how you’ve been. I miss you.
I stared at it for a good thirty seconds, my thumb hovering over the send button the entire time. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed down, slowly opening them to see the circle going ‘round and ‘round, trying to send.
Wait, no. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t trip up after two whole years. I frantically tapped on the message, trying to delete it, but then the dreaded check mark appeared. Sent.
“Fuck!” I cried out, startling the closest passerby.
“Sorry,” I muttered, looking down at my lap, my cheeks flooding with warmth. How the hell had you trickled back in? I drew that line, I did, I did, but now I’d tripped up. I sipped from my coffee cup, keeping my eyes on my phone screen the entire time. Nothing. You were probably busy. Hell, you’d probably changed your number for all I knew.
With that thought comforting me, I threw my cup into the nearest recycling bin and began the five-minute trek back to my apartment. I spent the rest of the day distracting myself with studying, my fingers hovering over my phone every now and then, tempted to check it. At around the same time the sun was going down, my phone finally beeped and I snatched it up.
Damn. It was just my classmate asking a question about the essay we were assigned. I rolled my eyes and chucked my phone somewhere on the floor before flopping backwards on my bed. It was over. Has been for quite some time. I didn’t know why I expected anything more.
My phone beeped again, and I sat up so fast I made myself dizzy. It beeped again, and I yeeted myself off the bed and frantically began searching through the ocean of clothes that littered my floor. Shit, where did that damn thing go? I hadn’t chucked it that far, had I?
I dug through the random piles of my belongings, making even more of a mess as I hunted my phone down. It started ringing, and I whirled around at the sound, seeing my screen shine through a random tank top. I stumbled towards it, hands outstretched, and grabbed at it, the phone slipping through my hands like soap and falling back to the floor.
“FUCK!” I yelled out just before a knock at my door made me whip my head around.
Leaving the damn phone, I stumbled out of my bedroom and towards my front door, taking a second to run a hand through my curls in an attempt to smooth them down, before I whipped open the door.
My mouth dropped open in a gasp, eyes widening as I took you in, one hand still holding the phone to your ear, the other shoved sheepishly in your jean pocket. “Hi,” was all you said. Mouth still open like a gaping fish, I wordlessly stepped aside to let you in.
Closing the door behind you, I finally managed to get some words out. “How… Wait, why…?”
You chuckled, the buttery-smooth deep bass of your voice causing tingles to break out all over my body. “I got your text, Y/n.”
“Wait, was that… that was you calling?” I asked, my voice coming out strained. “Sorry I didn’t pick up, I was-”
“It’s fine,” you said, waving my apology off. “I know you’re probably busy… and honestly, I don’t know why I’m here other than the fact that I…”
You trailed off, and I swallowed, anticipating the dreaded words. You were here because you needed to remind me that we were done. That there was nothing between us anymore. That you had a girlfriend.
“That I… Well, that I miss you too.”
For the second time that evening, my mouth dropped open. “You what?” I squeaked.
You chuckled once more, but this time, you had a trace of uneasiness in your chocolate-brown eyes. “I miss you, you dork.”
I didn’t bother trying to speak anymore, I just acted. I rushed towards you, grabbing both of your cheeks, and kissed you with everything I had. You grunted in surprise before grabbing me by the waist, steadying both of our stances, and moving your lips around mine, fully kissing me back. The second we separated, you drew me back in, even going so far as to swipe a mischievous tongue over my bottom lip, causing me to groan in pleasure.
We finally pulled apart, panting a little, your eyes bright, a wide smile on your face. “It’s been two whole years, though,” I said.
“Yeah, and the entire time, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind,” you murmured, peppering light kisses along my cheek. “I won’t let you get away this time.”
I sighed and curled up against your chest, once again falling hard for the way my head seemed to fit perfectly in the crook of your neck, and the way your hands seemed to meld with my love handles. It was like we were made for each other.
Well then. I thought we were done, but I guess it’s never really over, is it?
Hey, can i request angsty drabble with jimin? It's like jimin tell yn that he doesn't love her anymore, and she just breaking up and jimin regret it? Sad ending please :( I'm sorry for my grammar :((
Of course! You’re my second ever requester, and I got so excited when I saw this come in :D I hope I did your request justice! It’s kind of a long “drabble” as well, I apologize, but my writing is always detail-filled so *shrug* This is just how it comes out. Let me know if like and honey, never apologize for your grammar, you are perfect the way you are :)
Disclaimer: I pulled this gif off of Pinterest, so I didn’t make it. I did crop it, though.
Age Recommendation: 16+
Warnings: Swears? I don’t think there are any but just in case, ANGST with a sad ending :( Jimin being a jerk-face, regret.
Word Count: 1,378
Summary: Jimin mourns the loss of a relationship that should’ve been something more.
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It’s Crazy (Jimin Drabble, tiny bit of Fluff, Angst)
Jimin’s POV
It’s crazy how relationships work.
We weren’t always like this. When I first saw her, she was sitting outside of a small restaurant in Paris, sipping on a glass of wine. Drinking at eleven in the morning? My kind of girl.
You were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Besides the wine glass, I noticed the way your eyes slid over the pages of the book you were reading, devouring it like it was the last book on earth. Purple glasses were perched on your nose, matching the purse that hung over the back of your chair. Your skirt modestly hit your knees, but your tank top showed off the gorgeous skin of your shoulders. I couldn’t resist going over to say something.
You recognized me, of course. I wasn’t surprised, with the way my face is plastered all over the internet, but I couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that ran through me. It was cute how you pretended not to know who I was, though.
I asked you out, and although at first you were cautious, you gave in after a few days of texts and a phone call or two. Taking you to a lavish restaurant was a mistake. You grew apprehensive when you saw the prices on the menu, even more so when I asked you to relax and just let me take care of it. Clearly, you weren’t the kind of girl that cared about that sort of thing.
The next date went better. Just a local cafe, with regularly-priced drinks and plates of food. You were finally able to relax, and talk, and laugh. God, I loved your laugh. The way you scrunched your nose as you giggled tipped the scales, making me fall hard for you.
When the three weeks of my vacation were up, I was already calling you my girlfriend. We talked about you moving to Seoul to be closer to me, but even I knew the distance would be difficult no matter what. Still, you were strong. You knew who I was before we met, and therefore, knew the life you were agreeing to. The separation was hard, but it was made easier by nightly video chats and a constant stream of texts.
After six months, you moved to Seoul. I remember picking you up at the airport and swinging you around, peppering your face with kisses as you laughed. I was so happy, then. Everything seemed right… until it wasn’t.
As the months of our relationship went on, the sparks between us cooled off and we grew more comfortable around each other. You wore less makeup and more leggings, there was a drawer of your stuff at my place, and we started spending nights in rather than going out. I didn’t mind this, really. It was nice being able to be more myself around you and not have to try so hard. Unfortunately, that was exactly the problem… Both of us stopped trying, and our relationship suffered because of it.
More time passed, and you ended up moving in with me. It was great, because for the first little while, we entered that honeymoon phase again. Something new and exciting… but that didn’t last long. As each day passed, I realized that girl that I met a year and a half ago, who I fell so hard for on that cafe date, who used to make my stomach flip over itself, who used to make my heart feel full just by looking at me… was no longer that special.
We barely tolerated each other, constantly fighting over stupid stuff and snapping at each other. Our relationship took a turn for the worst. It wasn’t bad or anything… but it wasn’t good, either. And no matter what we did, no matter how many times we tried to change or make it right, the relationship we both used to treasure was on a steady decline. We started saying “I love you” less, replacing it with phrases like, “Goodnight,” or, “See you tomorrow.” Neither of us questioned it or brought it up. In the back of our minds, I think we both knew where things were heading. After all, a relationship ultimately ends one of two ways. You either break up, or you stay together.
Finally, the day came where you said those dreaded words. “Jimin… Do you even love me anymore?”
We were sitting on our couch, and you were looking at me while I refused to look anywhere but at the ground in front of me. “No,” I muttered after a few minutes of silence. “I don’t.”
Despite this confession being nothing new, I still remember the hurt in your eyes that caused tears to well up and trickle down. I slept on the couch that night, listening to you sob. I could practically hear your heart breaking, but I could no longer keep lying to myself and, more importantly, to you. This wasn’t working anymore.
A week passed, and you had found a new place and were moving out. “It’s for the best,” you said, hands shoved in your jacket pockets, looking anywhere but at me.
I nodded in agreement. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Being gone for months at a time, the late-night practices, the long hours at the recording studio… I knew it wasn’t easy on you. I wanted to stop the pain.
Another year passed, and I began seeing pictures of you on social media with another guy. He wasn’t a celebrity or anyone special, but you seemed happy. I noticed the way you scrunched your nose had come back… too bad it was no longer just for me.
It was our last concert of our tour, which we chose to end in Seoul. We were singing Mikrokosmos and waving goodbye to all our fans, when my heart nearly stopped. There you were, smiling up at me, singing your heart out. He was behind you with his arms wrapped around you, swaying you both in time to the beat, smiling and laughing as he leaned down and kissed your cheek.
I pretended not to see you, keeping a taut smile on my face as I waved goodbye to the rest of the crowd. So this is what our relationship has come down to. We’re just… nothing. Complete strangers. Our lives will never intertwine again, and even if they did, it would never be the same. Every kiss, every night together, every trip has boiled down to absolutely nothing but memories. Did it even really happen?
I felt disappointment roil through me the same way a thundercloud rolls over a sunny sky. How did I let things get to this point? How did I ever let you go? I kept pushing you away in the name of stopping the hurt, but I never gave a thought to my own feelings. I lied back then. I loved you. I loved you so much. Part of me still loves you. We should’ve ended up getting married, not as complete strangers.
As the stage lowered and we waved goodbye to our fans for the final time, I locked eyes with you and watched your sharp inhale as you realized I was looking at you. As if of its own accord, my hand reached out and I gave a little wave just for you. You gave me a half-smile and waved back. The only difference is, I was trying to say hello. I didn’t want to be strangers anymore. I wanted you back in my life, back to the point where you felt comfortable enough around me to eat as messily as you wanted and to wear whatever you felt like. You, however, were saying goodbye. For the last time. For forever.
I came to that realization as the stage hit the ground and staff swarmed me, offering me towels to wipe sweat away and bottles of water. I’d never have another chance. Our lives were on two completely different paths. It would never be the same.
Waving everyone off, I walked towards my dressing room, numbness taking over as my subconscious tried to protect me from the pain. So this is what regret feels like.
It’s crazy how relationships work. Or rather, how they don’t.
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
Part Two→