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whitney » 31 » 21+ MDNI » namyoonkook i feel that sometimes people should be respected just for being alive and existing. — knj

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Saw Your Requests Were Open And Wanted To Know If You Could Write Something About Jimin? Kinda Angsty

Saw your requests were open and wanted to know if you could write something about Jimin? Kinda angsty (since that’s your fav) but if possible have a fluffy ending? Love your writing and so glad that you’re back! Thank you if you choose to do this!

Here you go, bestie <3 & thank you for taking my fav genre into consideration when requesting! xo

Safe and Sound

synopsis; in which the words ‘sleep’ and ‘rest’ don’t exist in your boyfriend’s vocabulary — so it’s up to you to enforce them, lovingly, of course.

pairing; idol!Jimin x female!reader

genre; angst, fluff, comfort, idol au

rating; PG-13

warnings; angst in the form of jiminie overworking himself, and reader being worried so much, this was supposed to be a lil drabble over consoling Jimin but it ends up being more reader centered lmao oops 😬

w/c; 1,283

song to listen to; lift me up by rihanna

a/n; thank you for entrusting me with bringing your idea to life, I only hope I did it justice. <3

All you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the soles of your shoes as they hit the freshly mopped flooring of the HYBE training facility. The hallway was long, and the bright fluorescent lighting above you were the only thing keeping your still half asleep form even mildly awake. Well, that, and worry.

He still wasn’t back home.

The time on your phone read 3:31am, and showed no new notifications from your boyfriend. You reread the last string of text messages you sent him, which was hours ago, and technically yesterday.

Hey! Just a friendly reminder to stay hydrated!

Hope practice is going well, but don’t forget to take breaks when needed!

Baaaaaby, haven’t heard from you in awhile and you said you would be home around this time. Thinking of having a late night after all?

Jimin, I’m really starting to worry. Please, just let me know you’re okay at least?

Jimin?

I’m on my way.

Locking your phone, you push your feet to walk faster when you see the sign of the dance studio him and the boys usually use. Upon getting closer, you notice the light shining through the crack underneath the door, hear the muffled sounds of music coming from inside.

Your hand curls around the door handle, and you push down gently. You don’t know why, but you felt as if you should tread with caution upon entering. The door makes a slight ‘woosh’ sound as it glides swiftly across the sleek, hardwood flooring that’s now underneath your feet, and your body immediately shivers from the blast of cool air that hits your entire body due to the A/C being on full blast constantly within the practice rooms.

The first sight that greets you has your body deflating instantly with relief, only to be turned into slight panic when your boyfriend doesn’t respond to his name being called, his lithe figure leaning sideways against the full wall to wall mirrors, back towards you.

Your shoes squeak as you sprint ungracefully towards his unresponsive self. And you have to stop yourself from slamming into your panic stricken mirrored reflection by using the flat of your palms against the cool to the touch glass to stop your momentum. The force in which you stop makes the glass shake as your eyes finally land on his, that are only just now slowly opening from the vibration against his head your act caused.

In a bleary haze, his eyes adjust to the bright light first, watching your lips as they move fast – so fast in fact it makes a confused expression appear across his face. His ears pick up the faint music of the song he’s been rehearsing choreo all day for, but then ultimately zeroes in on the same word that’s been leaving your mouth for the past few seconds.

“Jimin, jimin, jimin—,”

It’s not until a warm hand encompasses his cheek, along with an equally as warm body smashing into his chest, your arm wrapping around his middle with a vice grip, your nails digging into the flesh of his back that has him letting out a slight grunt. When he straightens himself back up, his arms envelope your shaking form. Your breaths are short, fast, and he has to pull away from you in order to see the tears that threaten to spill over your waterline, pooling dangerously at the edge.

His big hands grip your face gently, brows pinched in worry at your distressed state. Due to his brain still waking up, he assumes only worst case scenarios as he asks.

“Y/N? Baby? What’s wrong? Why are you here? Did something bad happen? Are you okay? Are the boys—”

It’s ironic, really. How you initially came here to be the one comforting him and now he’s the one doing the comforting for you.

“You never came home.” Your voice floods with emotion that washes over him, creating a pool of guilt around him as his focus zeroes in on the large clock that overhangs above the doorway of the room.

You can see his face morph through stages of confusion, shock, sadness — and finally guilt as he looks at the clock, it being cemented further when he fishes his phone out of his back pocket and sees his phone blown up with countless notifications from you that he failed to read when he seemingly passed out while standing up.

That was a first for him.

His thumbs brush away the few tears that managed to fall, but he notices that your breathing has gradually returned to normal again the longer you stood there looking at him.

“I’m so sorry, I never meant to worry you. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“While standing up, Jimin?” Your hands grip at the sides of his shirt, and the warmth you feel emanating from his body soothes you, let’s you know that he’s real, that he’s there, that he’s safe.

“Yeah, I know. Not good. Definitely going to have a kink in my neck and shoulder for the next few days from that position. Maybe even worse than those times you made my arm fall asleep from you passing out on me!” He tries to ease the mood, the tension of the room with a joke. Even going so far as to give you one of his dazzling smiles that has his eyes squinting at you, a hesitant chuckle floating up from the depths of his chest.

You manage to crack a small smile, the edge of your lip curving reluctantly. No matter how upset, or how worried you are, he never fails to make things better, make things right.

And he wasn’t about to stop now. But as much as you’re relieved, you need to drop some tough love on him.

“Jimin, we’ve talked about this, love. You need to listen to your body and accept it’s limits when it comes to practicing. Especially when you are by yourself, cause you may have fallen asleep standing up today, but what if you were driving home after a long practice and fell asleep at the wheel?” You have to bite your bottom lip in order to stop it from quivering, you don’t think he sees it, but he does.

“You’re right, baby. As always.” He smiles lovingly at you, thumb now running over your bottom lip to stop you from biting a hole in your lip.

Your eyes flutter shut when he leans down to press a short, but meaningful kiss against your parted lips. Stretching up on your toes, you angle your head in a way to deepen the kiss, having to chase his lips when he departs to early for your liking. You can feel the smile on his lips as he reciprocates your affections ten fold, feel the rumble of his laugh with your hands that are pressed firmly on his chest.

Foreheads lightly pressed together, eyes still closed, and his nose nuzzling yours, he speaks softly.

“How did I get so lucky to have someone care so deeply for me?”

“Sometimes I feel like it’s a curse, to care so deeply.” You mumble out half serious, half joking, smile playing on your lips. “But for you? I would gladly bear it for the rest of my life.”

A shaky sigh exhaled against yours lips, your next breath being caught by his lips that press fervently against yours with so much passion you can feel it in your toes, in his touch, and it nearly leaves you breathless.

A string of words chant off his lips with each kiss he gives you, reaching to your soul.

“I love you, I love you, I love you—”