i’ll love you tomorrow, i promise - lee seokmin
yayayayay, my seokmin fic is here! i was on a grind and wrote this in 6 hours. enjoy your read!
synopsis : it seems like no matter how much you cry over him, he’s always just a memory. you promised him you’ll love him tomorrow, but how could tomorrow exist when you stopped being his everything today?
genre : angst for the most part! but it has its teeny tweaks of fluff (femreader x seokmin, post breakup au, mid twenties reader and seokmin)
- swearing ahead!
word count : 2.6k
Sadness, logning. A little bit of anger. You looked at him and couldn’t stand to keep your eyes on him for much longer than a glance. In all his glory, the suit that fit him so well and that smile perched so perfectly on his lips. Heart shaped lips that once spilled some of the most venomous set of words you’ve heard.
“Oh my God, ___, are you fucking clueless? Do you not see what’s happening around you at all?” Seokmin exasperates. His arms sway, making animated movements that exaggerate his rage, all that pent up frustration.
It must be midnight, or maybe even past it. You’re not sure, your head is dizzy and your trembling fingers wouldn’t even be able to lift a pen without it clattering to the ground. Home, you know you’re at home, it was your shared apartment with your boyfriend. The boyfriend you haven’t had a single peaceful day with in months.
Always screaming, yelling, getting irked at the smallest mistakes.
“My surroundings are pretty fucking clear to me, Seokmin,” you antagonize, heartbeat raising with every word. He scoffs, eyebrows knitted.
Next week should be your third anniversary. It should be, but the horrifying realization that you wouldn’t make it all the way till next week slowly creeps in.
“Oh yeah? Then accept the fact that we’ve changed. We’re not how we used to be and you know that.” His nostrils flare, a hand gliding through his thick black locks, slightly curly. And it’s true. You have changed, the both of you.
You started noticing minor tweaks and differences in your relationships. Dates cancelled for weeks in a row, the sudden disturbance and discomfort you couldn’t help feeling around him. Temper raised and ill-humoured arguments, the kind that made silence between you last for days.
Then, at some point he stopped coming back home at all, sending brief text messages that he was staying at his mom’s place instead. It would’ve been better if you caught him cheating, and had a better excuse to break up. Your relationship was hanging on its thinnest threads, threatening to break. Anytime.
But, in spite of all the feuds you and Seokmin had, you couldn’t help the ever-lasting itch of not being able to let go. He was your sun and moon, your brain and your heart. Everything, he was your everything.
Was.
Your biggest nightmare finally came true, when you broke up that same night. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see through Seokmin. When he came to pack his things, he didn’t even spare you a glance. You hoped to see his smile one last time, have him look back as he walked away. He didn’t, all while he knew that if it were you, you would’ve looked back.
A distressed sigh escapes your lips. That must’ve been years ago. Three, or four maybe. Years passed, and everyone around you seems happy now. Especially Seokmin and his fiance, very soon-to-be wife. In precisely about sixty seconds she’s gonna have a shiny, shiny silver ring wrapped around her finger.
You’re not sure why, but you’re sitting on one of the fancy chairs at their wedding, personally invited by Seokmin’s fiance. Alone. It’s obvious what her intentions are by welcoming you so warmly to your ex-boyfriend’s marriage. You should’ve stayed at home, and you know that, but you wished to see him again. With a smile on his face, even if it’s one not meant for you.
Heejung, you recall his fiance’s name. Glittery eyes, elegant figure and fairly tall, it’s no surprise she’s Seokmin’s woman. She walks down the aisle in a perfectly straight line, one arm hooked around her father while the other holds a large bouquet of roses. Your least favourite flowers, not that it mattered. The wedding is grand, you eye-balled around two hundred people gathered in swarms. An almost royal room reserved for the occasion, with diamond chandeliers hanging off the high ceilings and far too many flashy decorations.
Although as you consider Heejung’s appearance, you note that her dress is mediocre. Snail-paced walking combined with a slow song to support the lavish moment of her strutting the aisle. Seokmin waits, eyes sparkling with delight when she finally places her hand in his much bigger, outstretched one.
You stare at his beaming grin, line of sight fixed on Heejung. He looks happy, too happy that for some reason it has your chest aching. You don’t like the feeling because you swear you’re ecstatic he found someone great for himself. You’re happy for him, you think at least.
Loud clapping shakes you from your reverie, people whooping for the couple who leaned in for a kiss. You tune in with your own light clapping, just for the sake of it. They look good together, you have to admit.
The party had been moved elsewhere, just next door in a ballroom nearly as fancy as the hall where the marriage took place. Instead of walking around, you sit at one of the tables in the far corner, forking at the food. The steak is a little bit bland and you’re not a big fan of salad.
Everyone else is up and about, dancing along to the music. You’re just about to shove a mouthful of the wedding cake that was cut earlier into your mouth, when an unexpected voice causes you to flinch.
“___, right?” It’s Heejung, clad in that mediocre wedding dress. You put the fork in your hand down, turning to face her.
“Yup, that’s me.” You point a thumb at yourself, an awkward smile spreading across your face. You swear you see her lips quirk downwards in disgust, but it’s gone so fast you almost doubt your own vision. Seokmin is nowhere to be found, despite the fact that they were glued-stuck to each other the last time you saw them.
“I’m going to be tossing the bouquet soon,” she says, “why don’t you join?”
Taken aback with the offer, you stutter.
“Oh, me? I-I mean I’d love to but-” Heejung has a knack for being a bitch, you realize when she cuts you off, saying,
“All set then. See you at the bouquet toss, ___.” Waves a manicured hand and expertly swishes her dress around to scurry away back to the dance floor. You roll your eyes, returning your attention back to the cake.
I guess it hurts her to be just a little bit nicer.
Still, you lift yourself off and away from your little table, deciding to just play along with her scheme. From the center of the room, her voice booms through a microphone announcing the bouquet toss event. Women from all sides gather, laughing to one another about betting on who’s going to catch it.
You blend in with the crowd, as everyone anticipates the throw.
“Whoever catches it, gets a special present!” She exclaims, the microphone accentuating her slightly squeaky, high-pitched voice. It hurts your ears.
People start to count down in unison, as Heejung faces the group of women with her back.
Three, two and one.
As bad as today was getting, it got worse. Worse when you realized that the bouquet flew almost non-coincidentally in your direction and ended up in the grasp of your hands. Why, why, why. You just have to face Heejung all over again. That sly, sly minx with bleached blonde hair that looks healthier than your own dull, virgin hair.
While one portion of the women beside you cheer, the other is visibly disappointed in their luck, shoulders slumped as they walk off the dance floor. You hear heels click-clacking behind you, signifying that a Heejung is approaching you.
“Oh! What a coincidence!” She feigns surprise, running her fingertips across the soft, red petals of the flowers. A small smirk creeps up onto her face, eyes looking straight into yours. “You’re going to love this gift I have prepared for you.”
Her skinny index finger curls, almond eyes trained on someone behind you. He brushes past you to stand next to Heejung. Him, it’s him, Seokmin. You don’t miss the way his eyes lose their spark the moment they land on you, all the while your heart has already dropped down to your stomach.
“A dance with the groom,” she smiles, fucking smiles.
“Babe, I don’t think-” Seokmin’s gaze doesn’t stay on you for more than a millisecond, already turning to his wife to persuade her otherwise. Too late. She raises the microphone to her baby pink lips,
“___ is the owner of the bouquet, making her the bride for a single dance with the groom! If you’ve been spectating, please stand up because it’s our first slow-dance and we want everyone to join,” and announces, with that annoying voice. Your ears ring, and your eyes flit to Seokmin.
He looks irritated, vexed even. His jaw clenches, pupils avoiding you like you’re not even there. The crowd that surrounds the dance floor slowly spreads out, separating into pairs of two. Some look like couples, some strangers. Heejung turns to Seokmin.
“I’ll be sharing this dance with my dad, but you two have fun.” She gives her husband a quick peck on the lips, before trudging along the marble floor to find her father. You’re left alone with Seokmin. First time in years.
“Hey,” You greet, voice quiet.
“Yeah, hey.” He replies, finally meeting your scrutinizing stare. It’s weird, there’s a gentle tug at your heart. Lost in silence, you both forget there’s a task at hand. Slow music fades in and your eyes widen in recognition. How could you ever forget this song?
Tonight you’re mine completely
The groom takes a single step closer, within arms reach. He’s not looking at you, rather focuses on placing two large hands on the curve of your waist, carefully. The thin dress you wear does nothing to stop the warmth from seeping through, which you damn it for.
You give your love so sweetly
Your hands are perched on the very edge of his wide shoulders, afraid if you get any more comfortable, you might not want to let go.
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
His face is so close, but his eyes are cast downwards. All you see are his eyelashes, brushing his cheeks ever so lightly.
But will you love me tomorrow?
You don’t have to communicate to know you’re both thinking about that day, five years ago. The same song played on that day, you remember it like the back of your hand.
Seokmin twirls you around, a toothy grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. It’s a rainy day outside, so you decided to stay in with your boyfriend to prepare a home cooked meal in a while. If you’re being honest he was the better cook, but you enjoy the time spent together either way.
Somewhere in the middle of chopping up some vegetables, Seokmin suddenly pulled out his phone, typed something in and scrolled. Turned on a song. You don’t know it, but it’s pleasant.
He hums the melody, pulling you back into his embrace.
Is this a lasting treasure, or just a moment’s pleasure?
“This song is nice. What’s it called?” You murmur against his skin. Arms wrapped around his thick waist, head buried in the crook of his neck. The smell of his skin, fresh and warm to the touch and the faint scent of laundry from his t-shirt.
“Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” he says, but - maybe it’s the tone he uses - he sounds a lot like he’s directing the title to you. An unsure question laced with insecurity. You pull away to look at him. His eyes are closed, voice vibrating low with the song.
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
“Seokmin,”
“Hm?”
“You know I’ll love you tomorrow and forever, right?” A pretty smile tugs at his lips. He knows. Hand at the back of your head, he leans in to sweetly plant a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, too.”
Will you still love me tomorrow?
His touch now, it’s familiar. But it’s not the same, not like how you remember it. It’s supposed to make you feel cozy, like butterflies are going crazy in your stomach. As you simultaneously sway to the music’s rhythm, you realize that indeed, the spark isn’t there at all.
You missed him, sure you did. But maybe not in the way you thought you did.
As soon as the song fades away, you step away from him and he mirrors you. The air isn’t awkward, but uncomfortable, maybe.
“I’m sorry if Heejung is bothering you. She gets jealous easily.” Seokmin suddenly speaks up, sounding sincerely apologetic. With a stammer,
“I-It’s, um, fine.” You assure, but the silence you get in response leaves you wanting to fill it. “I should get going now, though. It was nice seeing you again, Seokmin.” And you mean it.
When you first made the decision of attending his wedding, you thought you were going to beg for him back. To please let you prove to him that you’re so much better than whoever he’s with.
Frankly, you would’ve. He was your very first boyfriend, when you first turned nineteen. You spent half of your college years with him, thinking you would marry him. And you missed that, those years consumed by a picture-perfect relationship.
Then you heard his voice again and carded through your favourite memories. That was all it really was about. Memories.
A hardly detectable smile pulls his lips, but it’s there. “You too, ___.”
And he means it, too.
Once you bid goodbye to Heejung and Seokmin, you effortfully shuffle your way through the crowd, hoping to find an exit nearby. The lights have now turned flashy, causing your sight to wobble a little bit and make it harder to find your way out. God, you can’t believe they managed to make a palace ballroom look like a club. Bumping into elders and yelling ‘excuse me' through the loud music, it really wasn’t your idea of a Saturday night.
Without warning, you feel a wet splash land on your shoulder. You yelp in surprise, but with the luck you brought to this occasion today, you figured something like this would happen.
It smells like juice. Orange juice.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” A deep, lightly nasally voice apologizes. You sigh, tired.
“It’s okay, it’s not that big of a deal.” It is, this dress cost you big bucks. The guy is tall, sporting a white (practically see through) blouse. His muscles flex as he tries to wipe the stain off, frantically rubbing at it. You can’t see his face, he has his head downturned and all you can make out is fluffy black hair.
Smells like some expensive shampoo.
“No it’s not. This is a Celine dress, it must’ve cost you a lot.” He says, and you hear a small pout in his tone. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. Cute.
When he looks up, you almost fall backwards, taken aback. He's easily one of the most breathtaking people you’ve ever seen. All tan skin, soft hair and flawless skin. What is he doing at a marriage after-party?
He adorns a quizzical expression.
“I’m sorry. I can pay for it.” Once again, he apologizes. You don’t think about how your three hundred dollar dress is now officially orange, but more about how his jawline looks perfectly sculpted.
“Dress aside, I really would like to know your name.” Your exit plan long forgotten, you yell through the music. He beams a smile, canines poking at his lip.
He steps closer, mouth near your ear. “Mingyu. And you?”
“___. Single?”
“Most definitely.” He grins.
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yoohoo you made it to the end :D let me know how you liked this one! and again, reblogs are super appreciated <3










