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ot7cvnt · 7 months

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OUCH | pjm

Summary: you hurt your foot and Jimin thinks your gonna die

Pairing: boyfriend!jimin x fem?reader (mentions pronouns a few times)

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: PG

Genre/Warnings: established relationship, injury, pain, implied?verbal abuse, explicit language, kissing, FLUFF HEH (my favourite), oc is so in love with Jimin

Note: hello fellow fluff lovers, i’m so sorry i’ve been ia for 10 months i was focusing on finishing my final year for college. tbh creative writing isn't my strong point it’s more of a side hobby so please understand i won’t be updating regularly i’ll probably be posting more so when I'm bored and feel like it ahahaha. I do want to point out thanks to all those who liked my previous stories. I really do appreciate it it’s great motivation!! anywho this story was based on when i hurt my foot (it was a more gross story but still hurt like a bitch) i tried limping home but the entire time i wished someone would carry me and care for me the way jimin does in the ff (sad i know). i originally wanted it to be longer going into detail about Jimin’s backstory but i thought short and sweet was better SO ENJOY i hope you all like it :)

and as always please let me know what you guys think and if you want more stories like this! please also leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed reading! :D

A warm sensation spreads through your body, engulfing you in a comforting embrace. You couldn't help but smile as a sense of contentment washed over you. The day had been a success. You followed every command and every instruction that your superiors had asked you to follow. Starting a new job was a challenging experience, one you hadn’t gone through before. The memory of your previous employment still haunts you, the echoes of your coworkers' voices reverberating in your mind as they berated you for the slightest of missteps. Not only was it stressful to deal with that every day, but you would also feel even more drained coming home after the endless regrets ran through your mind.

The more you worked at that god-awful place, the more your thoughts grew—were these issues truly insignificant, or were they looming large and you simply lacked the perspective to see them?

Your boyfriend, Jimin, was constantly begging you to quit the job since the sight of you so wrapped up in absolute guilt crushed him every day. Jimin only wanted what was best for you. The stubbornness he had over you was often a hard take but it was only ever going to be beneficial. As the begs increased in volume, your guilt scaled high, resulting in an endless cycle.

You knew you had to do it. Gathering yourself mentally and emotionally to utter those two liberating words took a great deal of courage.

"I quit."

You said it slightly quietly, still unsure. but you were stern about it with an attempt at a demeaning stare. In your head, you felt pretty confident with the way you delivered it, only to have that confidence descend with the sudden scoffs followed by the classic response, "Is that supposed to impress me?"

Perhaps Jimin was right. The testosterone in the room was unbearable at this point, and that slow, excruciating deterioration of your brain was just really not worth it. Staring back at your manager, you remained undeterred.

"I'll be handing in my notice tomorrow."

It was never worth creating an argument with your manager or anyone who lacked basic brain cells, in fact. That simple interaction only changed you for the better, and slowly but surely you felt you had a little more respect for yourself.

As you navigate the bustling street after your third shift, a palpable aura of rejuvenation surrounds you, causing your steps to take on a playful bounce. The faint aroma of coffee lingers on your clothes. The joy felt completely surreal, almost like time and space had been warped. Though the relentless bombardment of verbal abuse made your mind gradually deteriorate, it now made even the most challenging tasks a mere cakewalk.

The rain had been hammering down on the cafe windows for most of the day, so when you were met with the fortunate sun slowly peeking out from the clouds, you felt enveloped with its warmth, feeling it gradually filling your mind up with a little extra dose of serotonin.

Several metres or so away from your workplace, in a small back alley, you could smell the damp brick encroaching on your senses. Looking farther ahead, you saw the recent confrontation you were only slowly getting used to. It was amusing to you that a couple of steps were the only thing you had to worry about in your new day-to-day life. It was a sign that you were at least doing something right. You braced yourself for the steep steps that lay ahead while keeping in mind the wet, slick concrete.

And at that moment, the serotonin vanished. As the calmness of the moment dissipated, a surge of anxiety and adrenaline took over. Your heart plummeted as you failed to catch those final steps. Your foot barely brushes the step's edge. As you stumbled, your ankle gave way beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

You squealed, trying not to make any noise, as a wave of pain shot from your foot up through your body when the weight followed.

"Ouch,"

You hissed in pain as you sat at the foot of the steps. Looking absolutely helpless. The surrealness seemed to slip away as the situation unfolded before your eyes. Your mind wandered in silence. As you glanced around, a wave of relief washed over you as you realised that no one had witnessed your mortifying disaster.

I'm fine. I'm fine. You managed to convince yourself that you could make it home since the distance to your house was less than a mile. I can limp; it's fine. You reached for the railing and attempted to pull yourself up, only to be reacquainted with the searing pain you'd felt before.

Fuck.

You personally don't like to worry excessively about pain and injuries because you've always considered it a waste of time to acknowledge the warnings your body gave you. As the numbness set in, you realised that the situation was far worse than you had initially thought. Your body lay still and unresponsive, leaving you with only your thoughts to keep you company.

Along with the overwhelming urge to get up and leave, you also had the nagging fear that someone could hear a small person yelping at the bottom of the steps and decide to make a huge deal out of it. You know one person, Jimin, who would take his time over an insignificant issue. He would be the one to hire a golden carriage and transport you in grandeur, as the conclusion to convincing you that you needed to rescue yourself from those said scary steps. That was the worst-case scenario in your mind. However, it reached the point where you would rather have him make this big of a deal than a complete stranger who would have thought you were weak, whereas Jimin was certain that you are not.

A soft, sad sigh escapes your lips as your hand instinctively reaches for the back pocket of your jeans. With fingers trembling in anticipation, you searched for Jimin's name. As you raised your phone to your ear, you sensed your heart rate accelerating. Your nerves were on edge, and you did not want to burden Jimin with any additional worries. Making Jimin anxious was punishment enough. Every day, catching a glimpse of Jimin's radiant smile was like a burst of sunshine, flooding your world with a second dose of serotonin. But the thought of not being able to bring that smile to his face or turn it into a beaming grin was gnawing at your insides.

"Hey, ___, I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon! I’m just out with Namjoon and Hobi!" Jimins' amplified voice, together with the distant chatter in the background, echoed through the alleyway. "No, Jimin i-"

"It was just- Hobi wanted us to come see designs after work, and naturally we all piled into the bar! We are finishing up now!"

"Jimin, that's not why I'm calling…" You replied with a low tone.

"Huh?? Sorry babe, I can't hear you that well!" You chuckled to yourself at the agonising situation. Oh Jimin..

"Jimin, I fell.."

"Sorry, what was that??"

"I don’t know Jimin. I fell down these steps, and I can't get up. It's so embarrassing. I don't know what to do.."

"Shit. Stay there. I'm coming now. Where are you?" The way Jimin's entire demeanour shifts over the phone, it intimidates the hell out of you.

"I’m just outside that alleyway from my work... Do you know the one?"

"Yes, I do. I’ll be there in five minutes." And with that, Jimin ends the call.

"Fuck. That was my girlfriend. I’m so sorry guys, I have to go" Jimin, on the other hand, was shitting it. Hearing your frightened voice over the phone was enough for him to travel day and night to you.

"Is something wrong?" Namjoon asked, apprehensive. He'd only see Jimin's expression like this when something was seriously wrong.

"I'm not sure, I think she’s hurt. I'll see you guys soon." Jimin said, frantically stuffing all his things in his bag. "Aw, alright, I hope she’s okay," Hoseok chirped.

"I hope so too. Bye!!" And just like that, Jimin literally flew outside the bar door. Foot harsh on the pedal. On his way: to you.

You kept your eyes on the cracks along the walls, waiting for Jimin. In the end, a few people did come by, but you covered it up by sitting on the floor and talking on your phone, and they didn't seem to notice. It's currently quiet as the sun is descending. But eventually you could hear faint, sporadic panting in the distance. It was the said saviour of the day.

"___!! Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?? What happened?!?" Jimin gasped, looking at you like a precious gem that had cracked.

"I’m alright, just a little stumble. But I can't stand up, and it’s annoying." With a faint chuckle, you replied. You looked up at him, hoping to see his gaze soften and persuade him that it wasn't such a major issue, but his anxious expression didn't fade.

Scrambling towards you, he examined your ankle carefully, gently touching it in the process.

"Hm, I’m not a doctor, but I think maybe you sprained it. We should go to the hospital." He announced it sincerely.

"NO. I mean- no Jimin, no hospital, please; it’s not a big deal."

"Are you sure? I mean, you said you couldn’t even stand up?" It was endearing that Jimin tried to convince you, but because you didn't want to feel even more embarrassed, you simply scowled at him and hoped he understood what you were trying to imply.

"Okay, okay, let’s go home then." Jimin let out a little giggle at your silliness. But he now knew it was time for him to take on the doctor role and oh how Jimin would take that role very seriously. "Right, I need to carry you to the car then, can you try and get on my back?"

Jimin crouched in front of you after turning around. You used your entire upper-body strength to push yourself onto Jimin's back by reaching for his shoulders. His arms came back around and supported you from behind before he stood up and repositioned you.

"You okay?" Jimin asks once again. "Yes. Thank you, Jimin."

You scoot closer to his back, not just so he can carry you, but also so you can embrace him. Jimin carefully made his way back up the steps and onto the busy street, attempting to find his way back to the car park. You felt embarrassed by the many stares so you cuddled your face closer into the back of Jimin's neck.

It felt safe there, and you could smell his perfume's mild flowery scent mingled with the peppermint notes of his shampoo. Oh, how he always smelled so good. You smiled into his neck and pecked him lightly. This elicited a slight chuckle from him.

Jimin gently places you in the passenger seat and carefully rearranges your legs. He tightens the seatbelt and ensures you're safe and secure. You glance up at him, speechless. After the manner in which he's been treating you, the decision to call him for assistance felt extremely justifiable. As your gaze lingers on Jimin, he catches your eye, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips once more.

"Is this okay?" Jimin asked with a grin. "Yes, Jimin, this is perfect." As your gaze met his, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. The way he looked at you with such tenderness and affection was a feeling beyond words. To have someone who cherished you so deeply was truly a gift beyond measure. A rosy hue crept up Jimin's cheeks, causing his smile to widen even further.

Closing your door and driving back to the house was quite quiet, but it also felt soothing and safe at the same time. Jimin carried you on his back once again while fumbling to retrieve his keys from his pocket to open the door. Making his way to the sofa, he plopped you down softly.

"Okay, wait there. Don't go anywhere; I’m going to find a bandage." You laughed and shook your head at his stupid yet endearing joke.

When Jimin returned 10 minutes later, he did not only return with a bandage but also with half the house. Blankets, pillows, comfy clothes, a big bowl of snacks, and on top, the said bandage. You couldn’t even see his concentrated face through the massive mountain of love.

Your laughs echoed throughout the room once again while Jimin dumped everything beside you. He then carefully helps you undress into your loungewear and, following a YouTube tutorial, attempts to wrap the bandage around your foot. Watching him all focused on you made your heart flip around the room. He is so adorable.

"Okay, I think that’s good. Now do you want a pillow under your foot as well?" Jimin asked you politely. "I think it’s alright like this." You look at him, smiling.

"Hm, scratch that, I’m getting you a pillow."

When Jimin returns from getting a pillow, he gently lifts your feet to place it beneath them. He then throws various fluffy blankets over you while tucking in the sides, making sure once again that you don’t go anywhere. Looking back at you, he moves in close, giving you a soft peck on your forehead. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he momentarily retreats before leaning back in, peppering your face with a flurry of playful kisses. The two of you erupt into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, your heads thrown back in pure love and joy.

"Now what should I put on the TV for you?" Jimin sits beside you after grabbing the TV remote. "Anything I don’t mind."

Jimin then proceeds to put on your favourite film. Pressing play; he looks at you with a soft smile. "Please be more careful; I hate seeing you hurt like this." He pats your head gently while wrapping his arm around you.

"I’ll try not to Jimin ''. You say as you move closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

Paying close attention to the rest of the movie, your sixth sense tells you Jimin isn't watching it at all; he's staring at your ankle, hoping nothing will hurt it any further.

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