3 years ago1,000+ Views
Summary: You, Jimin’s girlfriend, are carrying his child and he is completely upset by this.
Type: Angst/Sad/Drama/Fluff
Length: 1958 Words
Members: Jimin x Reader, Appearances by other BTS members
You feel dizzy at the sight of the plus that seems to plaster itself over your vision, red and blaring and accompanied by sirens at the back of your subconsciousness, there are stars dancing around you that turn into falling petals, then withered leaves, and you wonder if this could all just be a dream - or a nightmare, perhaps? The object you hold slips out between your shaking fingertips and clatters to the ground and you jolt from the sound. Slowly, slowly, you kneel down, rocking yourself on the soles of your feet with your arms wrapped around your knees as you start to cry, shaking your head and whispering that it was all a lie, it wasn’t real, this wasn’t happening -
“(Y/N)? Let’s go!”
A sob escapes from your lungs and you can hear him stop outside the door. No, no, go away, Jimin, go away! you want to scream, but that’s the least that you want. You clutch your head between your hands as he asks, “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He attempts to open the door but you’ve locked it, unlocked it, locked it again. “(Y/N)?”
“Jimin,” you say quietly, but it echoes in the bathroom and can be heard by his sensitive ears.
“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Are you alright? Do you want me to bring you medicine?”
You remember how it felt - gentle, sweet, kisses along your spine like butterflies against the sky - and there is no doubt that there isn’t life inside of you. Your hands travel to your stomach but you’re too afraid to let them roam, so they simply hover just two centimeters above the cloth of your favorite shirt. You let out another sob, tears trickling down the sides of your cheeks.
“Jimin,” you reply weakly, choking on all of the tears drowning your lungs. “Jimin.”
“What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?”
“Jimin, don’t go away,” you plead, because you know he’s going to leave, you know he’s going to abandon you.
“I won’t go, why would I?” Your heart lifts just a foot off of the ground. “But what’s wrong? (Y/N), talk to me!”
“You won’t leave me, right? You won’t leave?”
“No, I won’t leave you. But can you tell me what’s going on? Please?”
“Jimin, there’s -” You brush away your tears and drag yourself to the door, where you lean against it as if you have lost a battle - but I’m in the middle of one. “There’s life inside of me.”
There is no response. You only hear your pathetic sniffling and your ragged breathing as you try to reclaim the air around you (but it keeps sprouting wings and flying away, when will you get your own?) but there is nothing from the other side of the door. “Jimin?” you say, mimicing the way he had called your name. Nothing, nothing at all.
You hesitantly reach for the handle above your head and pull it downwards, undoing the mechanism. But when you peek out with much caution and anxiety - you find that there is no one there. He is gone.
He storms through the building, only lowering the top-half of his body just two inches as he greets another in the hallway, then brushes past the stranger, colleague, to the rehearsal room. There, he finds his family, the brothers that he can always depend on - Seokjin, infused with bits and pieces of his mother in his own character; Yoongi acting as the hyung drowning in his own passions but still keeping his eyes trained on those of the others’; Hoseok, the mood-maker that never fails to lift their spirits (but today, he might fail); Namjoon, their faithful leader who puts them before himself; Taehyung revolving on the emotions of the others; and Jungkook, sometimes acting like the little child he is but also having the thoughts of someone much older than he. This is the family he will always be part of. But there might be a new family I have to take care of, he thinks, and at this he slumps against the wall and lets out a wail.
“Jimin!” Seokjin is by his side immediately, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and staring at him with wide eyes and concern. “What’s wrong?”
(Y/N), what’s wrong?
“Whoa, what’s going on?” Namjoon turns down the volume on the speakers and crouches down in front of his younger.
(Y/N), can you tell me what’s going on?
“Hyung!” Taehyung and Jungkook join the others quickly, standing above him with open mouths. “Jimin, talk to us,” Seokjin says firmly.
(Y/N), talk to me!
“Please, Jimin, what’s wrong? Why are you like this?”
(Y/N), please -
“(Y/N) is having my child,” Jimin says weakly. Hoseok and Yoongi, who are standing behind the others with their hands on their youngers’ shoulders, let out a shout. Seokjin and Namjoon let out an audible ‘oh!’ and Taehyung starts dancing about with ‘congratulations’ in the air. But Jungkook notices the fear in his elder’s features, the anxiety and the anger locked behind his eyes and shifts to be closer to him.
“Do you want it?” Jungkook asks softly.
And Jimin’s eyes widens, because - it’s such a simple question. Four words, each one relatively easy to understand. Yet - yet, he doesn’t have an answer. He slams his head back into the wall and begins to cry, so confused, so lost.
He lies on the cold floor, arms spread out on either side with his legs splayed apart as he stares up at the empty ceiling. He wishes that he could destroy the sky, tear pieces of the galaxy apart as he searches for answers that he knows are in himself yet he will keep saying they are elsewhere, hurl the crescent moon towards hell and watch it burn in its flames (and this is how we are made up of moondust). He wants to extinguish the constellations’ brightness with his starry footsteps and swirl the tip of his finger in the Milky Way, then slowly tip it over the edge of a blackhole where it will materialize into nothing. The world is mine, the universe is mine! he shouts into the void, yet he can’t even find himself in it.
Seokjin’s words echo back to him, reverberating off the furthest corners of the galaxy and coming back to him in thwarted waves. She has life inside of her, life that the both of you created together - is it not something you want to take care of?
But Yoongi and Namjoon’s warnings overlay the eldest’s kind voice. Having a child might mean giving everything up, or at least choosing a different path, the leader says. Jimin remembers how he stared at his hands, stretching his fingers out as if to reach for the littlest speck of dust, what he used to be. Would you value your career over a family?
Hoseok had shrugged and said, I honestly don’t see why you are so upset. Why did you leave her so suddenly, especially after she was crying? She must have been scared to even tell you, and this is what you do to her. Did you even call her? He hadn’t, and he didn’t.
Hyung, it’s all up to you, honestly, Taehyung had said after a moment of silence. You could balance both aspects together. We can help you, too! We’ll be here with you always.
Jungkook hadn’t said anything. This was his first taste of reality, or some twisted version of it. He had only hugged his elder brother and apologized for all of the trouble he had caused and promised to support him in whatever he chose to do.
He turns over onto his side and stares at the wall opposite, and closes his eyes into a quiet slumber. Maybe he will find answers there.
It’s been three days now, and Jimin has not returned home.
You sit up with some effort, blinking slowly and clearing the blurriness in your eyes. But any amount of time and darkness could not hide the clouds above your head, hiding in your hair, in your mind, taking shape and letting its rain trickle down your cheeks. You inhale the stale scent of home - of him - and stand up with difficulty. You are unstable, one leg crossing in front of the other uncontrollably and you almost fall, but catch yourself in time because he isn’t there to catch you. You stumble over to the kitchen and down a glass of water, replenishing your systems and wondering where he is, what other home he could have disappeared to since he is not welcoming himself here.
With slow fingers, you pull up Jungkook’s number and message him: Is Jimin with you?
The reply comes slowly: He’s at the practice room. He’s been there for the past three days.
You exhale and close your weary eyes, embracing the burn because you don’t want to feel anything else. You respond: Do you have any idea when he’s coming home?
You set the phone down and crouch down near the floor, like you did three days ago in the bathroom. But there are no tears now, only your soft breathing. Your greedy lungs steal every bit of air it can latch onto and you hope that he will come home before you run out -
You freeze, pausing your slow rocking back and forth, back and forth to a sudden halt. Footsteps, drawing nearer and nearer, you suddenly remember how he used to be there and now he’s here -
“(Y/N)?” He finds you behind the kitchen island, staring up at him with wide eyes. His hair is faded gray because he has not dyed it recently, his eyes are bloodshot like yours, his complexion is pale instead of the rosiness you can find in it usually, he is exhausted from dealing with all of the problems of the universe.
And you - your hair is all over the place, your eyes are bloodshot like his, your complexion is sickly instead of the fresh healthiness he can find in you usually, you are exhausted from waiting for him as he dashes about from there to elsewhere to here.
“Jimin,” you croak and he rushes forward, meeting you halfway as he embraces you with the walls of a home you have been longing for. “Jimin, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would happen,” you sob, the clouds you thought disappeared now building up again. “We can get an abortion, we can get rid of it if it means that much to you, we can do anything you want -”
“Anything? We can do anything I want?” His soft voice cuts through your words and you fall silent. He is trembling, his body is weak and his whole self is weak, but his heart and mind is strong. You nod against his shoulder and he feels your head move. “Anything,” he repeats to himself, his voice diminishing into a hush. “Anything.”
“Anything,” you repeat. “Anything at all.”
“Then - then -” He pulls away slowly, the tips of his fingers traveling over your arms to your hands, and he holds them with a gentleness you didn’t know possible. His eyes are soft despite the red lines criss-crossing across his white and caramel that reflect yours and he says, “Then would you believe that I love you?”
You nod, swallowing all of the ‘I love you’s you have whispered to nobody in the past three days.
“Then -” He withdraws his hands and adjusts his leg so that one knee touches the floor, his other leg is propped up to support his weight and he pulls out a midnight-blue case from his pocket. “Then would you be with me forever?”
The feels are with this story for me..
If you would like to be tagged in any BTS stuff that I post just let me know! :)
😭❤❤❤❤ i was so happy with the ending 😭😭..omg the feels ❤❤❤
this is so good
LIKE BITCH how you so talented I love your story like GOD DAMN!!!! I'M HATING!!!!!
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