Jikook oneshots

17.You Make me Wanna be Romantic💫

Author: JustJimin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751224?view_adult=true

Summary:
Jimin falls on stage. Jungkook and the others internally laugh at his clumsiness while continuing to sing and dance. The only problem is this time, Jimin doesn't get back up.

Notes:
It's my first time writing these beautiful boys, so hope you guys enjoy :)

This was kindly translated into Vietnamese, so you can read that here

This can also be read on my Wattpad here

Title from the song Romantic by Stanaj.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jimin has never felt this way before. He doesn't know whats happening and he doesn't have time to question the tight, constricting feeling in his chest as he desperately tries to keep up with the dancing. He know's he's slow compared to the music, knows he's one beat behind the others. He probably sticks out like a sore thumb and the numerous cameras pointed towards him capturing it contribute to his stress. Its like he can't do anything and when he opens his mouth to sing, no words come out. The thought of letting down the others and the crowd is overwhelming, just the idea of them being disappointed by his performance causing guilt and sadness to wash over him. And that, all the members knew, affected Jimin's mentality greatly. Namjoon had sat Jimin down multiple times to talk about his confidence and how every member would always support him, how no one wanted to see Jimin angry with himself. These talks were especially common when Jimin had entered his obsessive dieting faze, where his lack of energy and sudden change in personality terrified the other members. Recently, however, Jimin had been better about his self confidence, and instead of full on discussions with the others, there had been a few reminders here and there to not get so down on himself.
But now, as Jimin tries to keep his body from swaying, all of the others praise and spoken belief in him slip out of his head. Instead, panic rushes through his body as for a split second, everything around him blurs into a flurry of colors and motion before his vision focuses again. Then there's the taunting fear that maybe, he's not ok, and that whatever was happening to his body would result in surgery or losing his career. Leaving the group would ruin him, especially the unique friendships he had built with each member that he would lose. His favorite hyungis, who were always so supportive and kind. V, who was not only his best friend but his brother. And then there was Jungkook. The confusion and happiness that Jimin felt at just the mentioning of his name was enough for Jimin to know that it would hurt the most to say goodbye to him.
Even though Jimin could barely feel his arms and legs, his body continued to move instinctively because of the many practices that had drilled the moves into his muscles. The pounding music ricocheted through his skull, his pulse thumping in his head. The blinding lights leave him squinting and he can barely see out in front of him, the stage and crowd fading again into a blur. Jimin staggers as he feels his strength slowly drain, replaced by a heavy weight planted at his feet. Jimin can feel himself losing control over his body, feel it shutting down. He doesn't even feel his knees giving out. All he knows is that for some reason, the ground is much closer than it was before. Everything forms into a dull buzz in the back of his head and black dots cloud his vision. His mouth briefly opens and he has no idea if any noise comes out and suddenly, he can't see anything. He can't feel anything. Hear anything. There's just nothing.

Jimin drifts in and out of consciousness for the next thirty minutes. The short periods he's awake for are filled with cool hands touching his skin and inaudible yet familiar voices. He doesn't know where he is or whats happening. His eyelids are too heavy to lift, and all he can do is choke out a few words. He doesn't know what he's saying, but multiple voices respond. Then a faint shushing sound. Once in a while, there's a warm hand intertwined in his own and when his fingers don't feel too heavy to move, he weakly squeezes. When he hears his own name whispered, he instantly recognizes the smooth, calming voice. He opens his eyes, seeing only a blend of colors and a dark figure. He wants to speak, but that requires thinking, and thinking hurts too much.