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9uk · 6 years

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Boy Meets WHAT pt.1

summary : you wake up in a strange hospital, with zero clue about your existence. your doctor, namjoon is more than willing to help you in your little journey in life. but when tables turn, and the both of you would learn so much more about life as you embark in his journey of finding his six missing brothers.

pairing : doctor!namjoon x reader ft. ot7

word count : 13.6k

genre: fluff (namjoon and his crabs), smut, angst ft. joon’s tears T^T, jimin has a scene in here ;)

warnings: slow burn, namjoon likes it rough, slight teasing, dirty talk, intercourse, fingering, creampie, crab abuse

a/n : my very first piece of writing! i will constantly improvise from your feedbacks, i do hope you enjoy the first part and look foward to subsequent parts ^-^

part 1 > next

Kim Namjoon—the doctor.

You felt weak.

Your bones were stiff and your organs were forced to function by tubes and machines. You must have been laying here for months.

Uncomfortable.

You could feel pipes and metals every time you breathed. It was subtle, but you know they’re in you. A rough plastic cupped your nose and mouth to help your pathetic lungs to breathe or whatsoever.

The only muscles you could move were your fingers and eyeballs.

Occasionally, a little of your head and the furrowing of your brows. The constant beeping by your left ear makes you shift in discomfort.

The only thing you hear is your heavy breaths from what is that.

Oh, right.

You were now awake and conscious. Should be expecting your crying mom beside you to scream for the doctor as soon as she realises your half-opened eyes.

Decent Hospital.

You struggle to scan the sides of your bed for at least, a relative.

None.

Then your eyes laid on him.

The doctor.

Dressed in a sturdy long white coat with a navy V-neck cut shirt and beige pants beneath.

He was tall, grey hair parted to the side and thick black rimmed glasses on. He wasn’t old though, just a dashing man with grey dyed hair. He gave you the energy to open your eyes fully and breathe like a normal person would just by walking with a clipboard and pen in hand. He started walking towards, you.

You can feel your heart beating rapidly as your lids forced to close shut once again, the sedation kicking in. You muster all your strength to open them to look at the charming doctor, your only hope after a long sleep in the unknown.

The worried look on his face turns into a happy relieved one and your hollow eyes meet his.

“How are you feeling right now?” The question slips from his mouth. Could you speak, with all these tubes strapped around your throat? You never break the eye contact with him.

“Good,” You swallow your saliva. “I guess.” It was better than being dead but alive, yet dead at the same time.

Sure, these things made you feel queasy but you felt human. Again.

You sat up right, this time no longer with tubes in your oesophagus or wind pipe to aid your consumption and respiration, looking at the spoon that your fingers wrapped so gently around. You turned your wrist in all directions, observing your grasp on the cutlery and the many ways you could angle the spoon at with this choice of holding it.

You tilted your head. Strange.

You dived the spoon into the pool of soft fish porridge and lifted it up to your mouth.

“Not like that.”

His hand grabs yours and detaches your fingers from the spoon, adjusting your fingers to an unfamiliar and awkward way of holding the handle.

It now rested on the side of your index with your thumb pressing onto it. Namjoon claims that his way is right, but it did not suit your liking at all.

“Like this.”

After correcting you his hand stays on yours, sending what seemed like electricity to flow through your veins and attacking the rhythm of your heart pulses.

It must have been the lethargy in him from the long hours of relentlessly working that caused the delay in his movements, when he lets go, the warmth of his touch lingers on the back of your hand.

Namjoon smiles at you with his dimples full deep and places his hands in his pocket. He takes down notes on his clipboard that you are able to conquer basic tasks.

Like eating on your own.

He was three years older than you, approximately six feet vertically blessed and a doctor in here, Won-pil University Hospital, or so you assume.

Currently in charge of you, patient who fell into coma after being in a highly crowded place for too long. Passed out from the lack of oxygen. Apparently, you had also suffered a heavy and unforgivable collision to the head. You had slept for 3 months and woke up. That was all the details spared to you.

Though. you ought to thank the heavens you did not turn into a vegetable.

You decided that you had a sufficient amount of interaction with Namjoon, and your relationship with him had progressed into something much more than patient and doctor, that you figured it was time you asked.

“Why was I at a crowded place?” You were utterly curious about the cause of your near-to-death experience—and simply because a curious person loves to deplete all the question marks in their heads.

“I am not too sure, I only gave you medical attention after you were sent in here.” Namjoon shifted in his seat and ran his hands up and down his thighs.

You take another spoonful of porridge.

“Where.. are my family?”

Your heart sank when you realised nobody came to see you, even after months, not even a friend or a soul have visited you since you awoke. Except Namjoon.

He chatted with you in his free time, ate supper which was his dinner at times with you. He was the only one that kept you companied in this quiet room. You were located in a private ward with no other patients to interact with. Boring.

That was why you always looked forward to his visits and the heartwarming smiles he shot you when the radiance in you started glowing day by day as you recovered.

“The hospital have called them, but the lines were always cut off.” Namjoon explained.

“Why am I in a private room?” You gestured to the four pastel pink walls that you see everyday and looked around. The floral design was intricately beautiful and cosy. Seemed a little pricey as well. You had no idea if you even had the money to pay for your stay considering the fact that you had practically, no one. Or the ghost family who abandoned you.

“I-I arranged this for you.” You then shifted your gaze towards his face of hesitance and looked down shyly. You noticed the gold Rolex slapped across his wrist while hanging your head. That is why. Namjoon was rich.

“What about me? You don’t even know me.” It suddenly came across to you. Why would a doctor have such a special arrangement for a mere patient, someone he had plenty of others to attend to. Why you?

His eyes look to the side and his mouth open but nothing comes out. He pats his thighs and stands up, avoiding your question, “We’ll save that for another time. I’ve gotta go.”

With that, he leaves.

The question was never raised again.

One fine day, you were taking a stroll in the hospital park. You wanted an intake of fresh air of the world outside, and to your satisfaction, the taste of nature indeed felt wonderful for your lungs. It was like the green of the hedges outlining the pavement cured the soreness of your eyes, the sky blue and random blotches of white brought your trapped emotions freedom, the gentle warmth of the evening glow grazed your skin with the heat your body longed for. Definitely a fine day.

The flowers are falling and the winds are getting stronger.

Your footsteps jerk to a stop, the dragging of your thin slides against the gravelly path disappear.

“Why do you keep following me?”

You turn around to come into eye contact with Namjoon.

He flinches a little at your abrupt confrontation and starts throwing laughter into his palms to hide his embarrassment.

You had felt a pair of eyes trailing you ever since you sneaked out the ward, and the feeling only grew stronger with every step you took.

“I envy you.” He collectively says after settling, a finger pushing his glasses up.

He walked with you to the nearest bench and sat down.

You stare at the ground filled with leaves intensely for a moment and said something on impulse, before he could elaborate.

“Because I’m everything that you’re not.”

The sentence did not even come out as a question, but as a firm and standing explanation.

He almost drops his coffee as he turns to look at you wide-eyed at your confident reasoning.

“That’s.. exactly what I wanted to say.” His mouth went agape and his eyes shift left and right for answers.

Namjoon, however in his usual coat and a cup of coffee in hand, readjusts himself.

You, in your hospital gown with your phone and earpiece in hand.

It was nice, this context, and you enjoyed it thoroughly— other than the times he frantically finished his last meal of the day beside your bed, sparing small talk and rushing off to tend to other patients, leaving you chuckling at his hurrying form. Your eyebrow twitch instinctively at the memory.

“You’re unique, no kin nor friends, you can do whatever you want and-“

“I’m being myself.” You interrupt.

Upon your words, he shakes a little from the shock. How were you able to complete his sentence on beat?

“Are you an alien?” He questions so sincerely, that you had to hold back a chortle from slipping past your mouth.

“I said it from my instincts.” You collectively replied.

“Yeah, and it’s like fascinating you know, the way you act, it’s as if you just got pooped out from another universe or something! You’re amazing.. I just can’t explain.” He rambles on, and you’re stuck at how he had just used the term ‘pooped’ when he is literally, a doctor. You let out an outburst of laughter accidentally while you’re on the thought and Namjoon shoots you a confused look, scanning every word in his previous statement once more.

“What’s so funny?”

You immediately halt and replace your giggles with a stoic expression. It became his turn to have his fit of laughter for you were so, so abrupt.

“Now, what’s so funny?” You turn the cameras to him, facade of seriousness not budging.

Raising a brow, you shrugged and reached for his coffee. Namjoon hands you the beverage and scribbles down on his little notebook. You catch a glimpse of a sentence, ‘wake up from coma = predict future?’ It wasn’t funny, not at all, but due to the fact that earlier on you had tried so hard to contain your excitement, you let slip of another giggle. You bit your lip and chided yourself silently to stop.

“You know, the more you laugh at practically everything, the more I might just need to transfer you to an Asylum.” He shakes his head, actually considering doing just that.

At that, you cannot help but let your laughter grow louder.

Suddenly, his eyes flick up towards yours, wide upon some sort of realisation. “I know!” His pointer finger bounces up and down, finalising his thoughts.

“It must be the word ‘pooped’ I used earlier on, right?”

You smile sheepishly, the humour of it worn out too soon.

Namjoon shakes his head even more vigorously than before, this time accompanied by a sigh, on the border of disbelief and disappointment at your childish antics.

Still, he notes down every small detail of you diligently.

Then, silence envelopes the both of you.

It was neither uncomfortable nor filled with tension, instead it radiated happiness and was coated with bliss.

Perhaps it was the afterglow of both your redundant laughter that had you feeling this way.

Perhaps.

You looked over at Namjoon, who mirrored your expressions, beaming happily to himself.

Perhaps not.

It was a Saturday morning, nothing exceptionally special happening but Namjoon was by your side, and for whatever unknown reason you felt a little more excited than usual waking up that day, and it totally may not have been because of the walk in the park with said man. You try to pass off as indifferent as ever when he sets foot into your ward, but instantly fails when you spot a tray of bacon, eggs and coffee on his hands. God, you love food.

You feel yourself tensing up as he moves closer to you, setting down your plate of food and sitting too close to you.

Not that you were complaining.

You began to cut the bacon strips (yes, you can even manage a fork and knife at the same time now) and Namjoon fishes out his leather-cased notebook. And you feel words skim across the surface of your sophisticated mind, almost like a natural reflex.

“Your favourite movie..” You sip on the coffee, trying hard to be nonchalant.

“What?” His heads flies up to meet your face, not wanting to miss out on any crucial evidence to proving that you are, or most likely, probably an alien. Namjoon is not one to give up.

You point to the book he had in hand.

The Notebook.

He glances back at the object he has in his hands.

Namjoon then sighs and shuts his notebook. He turns to face you with an unreadable expression. His eyes roam the shape of your legs under the duvet, as articulating his thoughts into words, before they bore into yours once again.

But that simple act of his caused you to nearly squeak—

“You know, I really wanna take the time to get to know you better,”

He clears his throat and the creases of his brows appear. “and your supernatural abilities— but that isn’t my main point, like not as doctor and patient, even after you get discharged and all, you know…I-I still wanna be able-“

He’s rambling again, and you’re distracted finding it extremely adorable.

His words come out unembellished, honest and straightforward and you find yourself speaking without much thought.

“Sure.” He gets cut off mid-sentence.

You’re utterly embarrassed at how desperate you must have sound, panic splashed onto your entirety.

He’s stunned and you carry on,

“And you still wanna be able to..?”

Even though you clearly have the answer lingering at the back of your head.

His smile grows larger at your response, completely oblivious and forgotten about your strange psychic powers and he continues.

“To see you.”

Namjoon kindly admits with a tug of smile.

Your heart began to beat disastrously fast and your cheeks feel like they’re in a furnace. While you’re at a loss of words, which was very unlike you but Kim Namjoon, handsome and intelligent doctor had just asked you out indirectly. And you meant it when you described your pulse in that manner—this was a disaster. A passionate and enjoyable one at the very least.

Formal, ridiculous and awkward, you had found his outstretched hand to be, so you went for option two.

Without a care, you reach for his sides and wrap your arms sincerely around him. It was a brief moment after that he relaxes from his stiff form and hugs you back. You slightly bury your chin into his muscular shoulder and take in all of him. Namjoon doesn’t wear cologne or perfume—that, you’ve noticed. Instead he smells of fresh fallen leaves—quite similar to the one you got many sniffs of just yesterday—and hints of pine needles, giving you a woodsy, earthy scent that evokes warmth and coziness throughout your body. Born on the 12th of September, nearing the fall—of course he would smell exactly the season. Or maybe you were overanalysing and his body soap was purely made of Autumn flavour.

Nonetheless, it feels nice. He feels nice.

Namjoon feels a few butterflies fluttering in his chest, warmth rushing in all of his haemoglobin and he cannot quite explain how he feels from your nimble arms around his rather lean yet broad form— but for sure, it was something he wanted to bask in forever.

“I read a book last Sunday and the girl said this to the guy she had just known,” Namjoon scoffs unbelievably at how childlike you sounded, and you shifted at the feeling of his hot breath on the side of your neck. You quickly pull away and recited,

“I’m a hugger, remember that.”

As he feels your hands dislodging, he resists the strong discontent at the loss of contact. “What book were you reading?” He asks, recovering from how dizzy he felt from a plain hug. Namjoon prays hard that these flustered emotions were not painted clearly on his face.

But it was you, and you can see everything— including right through him. A knowing smile grew on your face, and you sip on the coffee that has turned cold once more.

“I’m not telling you.” You tilt your head a little higher, eyes fixed on the caffeine just to show Namjoon how much of an immature brat you could be. And he looked like he wanted to slap you back into your goddamn coma.

After your speedy recovery and immediate discharge from the hospital, Namjoon being the ever-so-loving gentleman offered to send you home. Where was home?

You had a book in hand, one that caught your attention amidst the rows of neatly stacked books. The book was sticking out like a sore thumb, and you felt like it was almost purposefully poking its head out of the shelf for you to lay your eyes on it longer than the others—eventually picking it out from the crusty wooden shelf carefully.

'WHAT', was imprinted harshly on the cover of the book, you could feel the indents and ridges of every letter as you glide your fingers cautiously over the book, like it would break apart and dissipate into pixel dust from your hands any moment. Yes, it looked that enchanted. The shimmering gold words felt like it was carved onto the light blue buckram material of the book jacket.

Wonder. The very first chapter had briefly mentioned about what home truly felt like. The protagonist of the story wonders what home could truly bring himself to feel. Was it a safe haven of love? Was it an endless maze of euphoria? Was it confined in the comforts of a worn-out family couch?

The boy often wonders what home could mean.

And how he would seek it out someday.

Over to you, home only meant the black and white words of address inked onto the sheet of document to your identity.

You felt lost and unloved.

“What are you thinking about?” Namjoon shuts the door and starts the ignition. You trapped in a blank stare and you couldn’t concentrate. There were too many things going on in your mind at that time till you couldn’t think about anything at all. It was like you were dropped into a pit of self-doubt and relentless questionings of your entire existence.

“Nothing.” You mumble under your breath at your best and picked at your fingers. Namjoon senses the weird tension and drops the probing, for which you were thankful for.

You were a paradox of emotions.

Up till now, you still have not figured where your family members went. The trip there was silent, you were still constantly questioning your state of plight and wondering why you weren’t exactly the same as others.

Take for example, you were reading a book ‘Three Little Pigs’, hoping a children’s storybook would be able to lighten your mood with its innocence and simplicity, with its attempts to drive the moral of the story into the brains of kindergarteners. Definitely, you did learn about how important it is to take precautions and have certain trust issues from the animals, but at the same time you feel attacked when the three piglets have a mother (and themselves) and you don’t.

Life is hard.

Everything that you do makes you question and feel unnecessary things.

Maybe being different wasn’t that great after all.

Exceptionally different, in your case.

Like you didn’t fit into this world in the slightest bit.

Like he didn’t fit into this world in the slightest bit too.

A few days earlier..

You slipped off the bed in a disgruntle after aimlessly trying to solve the Rubric’s cube Namjoon had given to you. He had still continued to insist that you did not belong on Earth, (but he is confused as to how beautiful an alien can actually get if his hypothesis was true) forcing you to play around and solve the toy to experiment what you were capable of. He viewed it as some sort of intelligence test, but really you brought more of your attention to the “play around” part of his order.

Your body was quite sore from the still sitting on the bed for what seemed like hours, twisting the colours of the cube in amazement and determination. And now, with the cube tossed mindlessly on the bed, you left with a breeze of exhaustion washing over you. You needed a walk.

Roaming the hallway of your level, you realised that it was eerily quiet. The hallway was rather narrow, simple white walls encasing you and the dim ceiling lights raising the hairs of your arms. The design was plain, compared to your ward, in fact a little too plain for your liking. Even the end of the stretch of walls was another white wall and you wondered if there was a turn included. Your tingling senses somehow tells you that a hospital should consist of nurses and doctors running everywhere, some carrying reports, some pushing trolleys of medication for treatment, the unstoppable clattering of the keys on laptops, the occasional announcements and beeping sounds, and, at the very least be spared of a few paintings of apples or something on the walls— but what laid before your very eyes was a mute white corridor, which walls seem to be closing in on you every time you drift out of focus.

It was so silent that a pin’s drop would be heard.

You started doubting whether all those times Namjoon rush off was to actually get back to his job, or what not. Because the quiet confines of this hallway make you wonder if he even did actually have a job here as a doctor.

What was there to do in a building that sounded like vacuum anyway? Like there weren’t any other patients, except for you.

The silence made the ball of nerves you gulped down your throat, deafening.

You take in a deep breath as something like fear creeps into the back of your heart. You started walking, to distract yourself from that feeling. Perhaps you were in an asylum, and Namjoon could save the trouble of transferring you there.

It was your first time out of the ward, and although Namjoon has made countless warnings for you to not step out anywhere of that private room, you figured it could not be as bad due to the lack of proper reasoning he did not manage to give you when you queried.

As your footsteps increased, you came across another room. The first room you had encountered that did not belong to you. Looking behind, you memorised the exact location of your room door, making sure it was still there for whatever paranoia you had in mind. You tried peering through the blinds for this room had a window unlike yours.

You gasp.

There was definitely somebody in this room.

You felt his presence send a pang of shiver down your spine.

Nonetheless, curiosity peaked your mind as you made your way to the door, keen to make a second friend of your kind. There is a small sliding hatch on the door above your eye level, and you stand on your tip-toes to view whatever was hiding behind this very door.

Placing your palms on the white wood, you peered in with searching eyes that wandered around the room.

The room fitted so well in this hospital, unlike yours.

Your room consisted of white lilies spotting the pastel pink walls, blended with a mixture of floral designs and a handful of small birds. Cute, would be an understatement. However, this room resembled the hallway, nothing but plain. Other than the boring two white walls that looked a light shade periwinkle under the faint blue ceiling lights, you can see large ivory curtains draped across the center of the room.

You leaned slightly towards the left and closed an eye for a better angle to view the right-side of the room, and you’re met with a peculiar silhouette of a figure. The shadow is still as statue, and something about that lets your gaze linger on it longer than you planned—like you were testing its ability to remain stationary, waiting to see if your ogling would actually cause a stir in its movements. You were determined to not even bat a lash, keeping your eyes open anticipatingly for any sort of change.

Your closed lid had started to strain but the silhouette was still immobile and that made you wonder if it was merely a curtain design or some sort.

Time passed and the scene before you was the exact same as before, you cannot help but blink as you feel your right eyes begin to sting.

And you let out a gasp when the curtains showed nothing but white.

No longer was there any grey sitting figure stained on the cloth and you swayed eagerly from side to side, trying to locate where the hell it went. Or you could say, the person went.

Worry and interest grows inside of you at the same time.

You’re worried about how ‘it’ could be a demon or ghost or something that could potentially harm you—considering it disappeared to god knows where in about a millisecond.

Or quite literally, in a blink of an eye.

But then again, you’ve only read about demons and ghosts and given your state, you would probably (try) build a friendship with them if you ever bumped into one. You’re also interested because—dammit, you had no idea why you were feeling this way. Making friends was just a lame excuse to cover up and you know that very well for a fact, because this was way more than creating friendships, meant way more than the term ‘friend’. And you don’t know why.

For a certain reason, your brain and your heart were two separate organs, not separate as in the arteries were non-existent, but separate meaning your eccentric mind sends messages to you and your poor clueless heart, or sometimes your voice box. You say things you hadn’t read about yet, you do things without a particular reason, and you feel and think about things you don’t have an ounce of knowledge about.

These train of thoughts are broken in a flash, when the door slams open.

Letting out a gasp, you come face to face with a guy with his blonde hair swept-back, in the entire glory of his sky blue pyjamas set. His eyes were drained of any form of energy, heavy lids droopy and you were surprised at how he even managed to keep them open. Gaze falling onto his excruciatingly attention-seeking plump lips, you were robbed of time to admire them as they moved-

“What do you want?”

Eyes widening, you were at loss of words.

You had forgotten to think about what you would say and you were caught red-handedly gawking rudely into his room—for the love of god, why couldn’t you have just knocked politely and waited for a response? You purse your lips in regret of your lovely intrusion of privacy.

“Uh, I-I just—shit, I’m sorry..” You wanted to leave as fast as you could from your predicament, and never see him again-

But the cold fingers encasing your wrist halted you.

“Don’t leave just yet, pretty thing.” His lips curl upwards forming a smirk and you are stunned upon his words and the grip on your wrist.

Pretty…thing?

“Would you like to stay with me?” He suggests with a friendly grin but the smile doesn’t quite reach his tired eyes. You were so tempted by his offer, and you felt as if there was this unknown force pulling you into this bland room with this completely attractive stranger. You stayed silent, and he knew you were actually considering it. A smirk grew fondly on his lips.

Unknowingly, you find yourself taking the first step into the room, followed by the second, third and-

“So willing…” His voice turned a few octaves lower, but it is still as soothing as honey. You’ve lost all control of your body movements at this point. In a split second, you entered his room. His energy was so seductive and alluring, not even the strongest man alive could resist it. You don’t know how and when, but the stranger had you caged against the now closed door. His gaze was so predatory, you felt like a curious cat that walked right into his trap. His ring-clad fingers rise slowly to hold your chin ever so gently, his touch sending you to seventh heavens. Your breath hitches, and you’ve gone completely still by the effect he has on you. He seems to notice the very slight quivering of your lips and he swipes the pad of his thumb over them, just for a brief feel. You’ve been staring at him this whole time, unable to take your eyes off a man that resembled a Prince. As he fix his eyes on you again, you blink in disbelief. You’ve only read about this in books, how lovestruck the princess got after having a taste of her royal prince—he disarmed you without even trying.

Curiosity killed the cat.

He craned his head and attached his lips on your neck. You shudder visibly at the contact and your eyes flutter shut automatically. His hand moves to the other side of your neck, grabbing it roughly for better access to suck your neck. You feel his tongue dart out and lick a stripe up your skin causing you to involuntarily let out a small whimper. Everything was happening at such a fast pace, you almost couldn’t keep up with his ministrations on your body. He devours you in a hasty and impatient manner, like he needed to rush off to somewhere after this. His advances are so quick, your breathing and heart rate turned beyond erratic. You feel a tight grip on your waist and he starts trailing kisses up to your jaw.

But satisfaction brought it back.

A part of you wished he doesn’t pull away, at least not just yet— but he does, pulling your body flush against his, then leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing, similar to yours, is ragged too.

“We’ll see each other again, soon.” He tells you softly.

You remember how Namjoon always praised your extrasensory perception and this is the exact moment you should put it to use. You try to stare through his caesious eyes to open his backstory and read about this mystery man—and all you get is a heavy sense of longing and a strong seek for the serendipity he used to possess. Although you feel his hardened member through the blue silk, and your neck wet with past traces of sloppy open-mouthed kisses, probably a pool of heat stirring vigorously in you—you felt like you needed to leave. And as if on cue,

“Y/N, where are you? “ Namjoon’s voice appears outside the room.

“Will we?” You doubt.

“We will.” He shines a faint smile.

“Promise?” You sounded like a kid, but you had wanted more than anything to see him again right at that moment.

“Promise.” His smile is now full at how innocent and childlike you were, and he was close to robbing you of that a few seconds ago. You look at his now outstretched pinky finger, and blink in confusion.

“It’s a pinky promise, idiot.” Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape upon realisation and the both of you curl your pinkies around each other tightly.

“Y/N!” The shout laced with worry echoes down the corridor.

The entire atmosphere in his room had perfectly took a whole 180 degrees turn— you were at first a little intimidated by him but now your fingers were connected as the both of you giggled in amusement.

You grabbed the door handle, about to make your way out but you quickly spun around to face him again.

“Oh, uh I forgot, your na-“

“Jimin. I’m Jimin” He intercepts as if he saw that question coming way too early. His name was beautiful, and an actual and accurate representation of the guy himself. A silly grin creeps onto your face after you repeat his name a couple of times to yourself and you open the door a crack. You took the chance to quickly leave his room when Namjoon’s footsteps have faded away and a voice vibrates through the whitewood door.

“You’ll see me again.”

The promise was sealed tight.

Present Day

“Here it is.” He points to the apartment on your left as he slows the car down for the viewing of your home.

The door swung open smoothly and the house was empty, no family portraits or any pictures of your loved ones. To be truthful, you did not even know who they were, and you obviously had a mom and a dad, maybe they had passed on but you didn’t feel any grievance or emotions to those possible scenarios.

You mean you have not even seen their faces or spoken to them, from what you can recall. There were no memories of them.

Siblings? The word brother keeps pestering your head so you figured you must have had one, and we must be pretty close for him to bother your brain so much it hurt. You only felt depression poking your heart when you saw kids playing with their parents happily, hearts filled with so much love and affection. They had a safe haven, the safe arms of their guardians, something you missed and lacked right now.

The hollowness in your heart caused you to squirm when you walked around the house, as if walking in your own heart—empty.

Namjoon slipped a piece of paper containing his phone number into your bag.

Why did you even have a bag?

You don’t remember.

Your gut instinct told you Namjoon gave that to you as well, even though he claimed that these were your very own ‘belongings’ from the accident.

At times, you wondered if he had no one too. Just like you.

He never talks about his family or friends.

After walking around the house aimlessly, almost like viewing a show flat, you discovered a safe in the house. There was around a million dollars and files of documents inside, as if the house was prepared ready by someone for you to live in. You also noticed the furnitures untouched, fresh and too intact for someone who lived here, the bottles of soap and shampoo filled to the brim with satisfaction, the bed unwrinkled and smooth, the sink shined with a spark of twinkle and the fridge stored with containers of food. There wasn’t any undone laundry. There wasn’t any unwashed dishes in the sink. This house seemed to only tasted the presence of human twice. It didn’t feel like home at all, it was more of a perfect dollhouse. Everything was so in place, you dare not mess anything up.

Let alone live comfortably in it. You weren’t some doll.

You flipped the documents open and was met with a lanyard and a business card. Your lanyard, and your business card that states:

Y/F/N Y/L/N

BH Entertainment

Journalist

You whipped your phone and the slip of paper out, and dialled Namjoon frantically. You placed the phone between your shoulder and ear, and went to gather all the toiletries and clothes in the house and shove them into your backpack. “Namjoon!” You yelled into the phone as the ringing stops.

“What?! Did something happen?” You can already imagine him panicking on the wheel.

“Come back. I’ll tell you.” You calmly told him.

“Sure, I’m just around the petrol kiosk nearby.”

He arrived swiftly and steps in with a concerned look on his face, wondering if he had missed out on any necessities a woman should have.

“I have a favour to ask of you.” You interlocked your fingers and gave him the softest look, possible. You thought about this hard, and you concluded that you should follow your deadly accurate instincts and that intellect brain of yours. And that is why you came up with this proposition—which you think can greatly benefit the both of you.

“Ask ahead.” Namjoon crosses his arms, listening attentively to what you had to request. Before he interrupts, “Wait, is this about the house? I can settle that for you. I know many repair workers, decorators, furnit-“ “No.” I cut him off, eager to raise your suggestion to him.

“It’s not about the house. It’s the fact that it’s just, a house.”

You shift uncomfortably in the silent four walls.

He lifts his brow in confusion.

“Which brings me to my request. Let me live with you.”

You forced an appealing smile.

You deduced that he lived alone, and even if he had one bed, you wouldn’t mind residing on the couch. Which doctor didn’t have a couch?

“It doesn’t feel like home. Feels like.. someone set this whole ‘home’ up for me.” You mumbled as you looked around the decent apartment. Namjoon sighs in defeat, a tinge of guilt casting across his lips pressed into a line.

“Should I have said.. make yourself feel home,” Namjoon chortles, “you wouldn’t end up in my car again.” You narrowed your eyes and smacked his shoulder. “It’s not as simple as words!” You pouted. Namjoon smiles ever so sweetly and makes a sharp turn. “Woah!” You fly carelessly to the side and his right arm cages your chest and helps in the seatbelt’s poor job of securing you in place. You return to your place in shock and search the car for answers.

“Be careful, you clumsy!” His arm is retracted back when he grazes over the modest feel of your breasts.

And you feel your cheeks glow a pink.

It felt too stuffy all of a sudden and you could feel his body heat radiating towards you.

“Does it have a price?” You question after a moment of awkward silence between the both of you in the car.

Everything comes with a price.

“What does?” Namjoon seems confused.

“Living with you.”

“Ah… we can discuss about that some time later.”

He seems to already have what he wants from you in mind, circulating around the wildest desires in the back of his mind. But he chooses to disclose his thoughts to you perhaps, some time later.

His apartment feels cosy, but not that luxurious for a person who earns tens of thousands in a month. It felt like home, well at least for you. To him it was a plain mess. “Sorry it’s really messy. This is the life of the doctor, too busy to even tidy up this hell of a place.” Speaking of busy, it reminded you of your doubts about him as a legitimate doctor. Which in turn resulted in your thoughts drifting to Jimin. You raise both brows at the sudden memory of his mouth on your neck.

“It’s fine Namjoon, really.”

You settled in and your bedroom was just across his. Interesting.

“Is everything okay?” He leans by the doorframe with hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. Namjoon looks even better like this, absent-mindedly dressed in his slacks and his fluffy hair. You did not want to be caught gawking, so you hurriedly shift your attention to the clothes you were packing in the drawer. “Yeah, it’s more than okay.” you muttered and smiled, even though he can’t see your face. You shut the drawer close and stand up.

“Namjoon...Thank you.” You slowly walk towards him. Your mind was filled with thoughts of how you were going to get along with him in this cosy apartment.

“Don’t mention it, it is my pleasure..” Namjoon looks down and scratches the back of his neck.

“Your pleasure?”

“..to have you as a friend, of course. Or a housemate of some sort.” He lets out the cutest giggle.

“Oh, I see.” You chuckled nervously. You came to realisation that you didn’t know much about this man. But since he has gave you a life (and a home) you should be more than willing to accommodate to anything he wants.

He could be a rapist, a psychotic killer or a mad doctor who dissembled body parts and has a wide collection of the organs of little girls—but you chose to trust him. Something in him made you feel like it was right to do so, that being with him brought you happiness. You followed your heart.

Namjoon latched his watch onto his wrist, preparing to head to the hospital. And yes, contrary to your suspicions he actually did have a job at Won-pil Hospital and was a doctor assigned in the special case unit. Special case that is, the reason why the hallway outside your ward was empty. Patients like you needed space and less interactions with other patients lest your damaged brain would spark a reaction and shock you into a state of vegetation. When you got discharged, the exit out of the special unit reassured you that it was nothing but a normal hospital. The nurses, the clicking sounds and the patients taking walks-- everything proved it.

There were other cases, but yours was the one he was in charge of and every patient had a designated doctor which cannot be interfered with to avoid mixing up procedures and current state progress of the patient’s recuperation .

He had no clue about the other patients. But it was not like he needed to, he had more than enough patients to tend to at the general surgery section as well.

Namjoon closes his eyes for a quick snooze before the elevator reaches the basement. Something however, felt out of place.

Out of habit, he reaches for the bridge of his nose and feels nothing but skin.

Right, his glasses!

His eyes flew open and he instantaneously reaches for the button of his floor level again.

The answer as to why everything was such a blur wasn’t because of his fatigue afterall.

Namjoon searches every nook and cranny of his apartment and grimaced at how untidy everything was. You were probably lying when you said it was fine. There were newspapers scattered on the coffee table, clothes were still hanging dry and unkept in the back of the kitchen, and an unfinished cup of Americano on the dining table. His glasses were nowhere to be seen. He naturally heads to your room to ask you if you had seen them lying anywhere. Knocking twice, he proceeds to enter your room without waiting for your acknowledgement.

“Y/N have you seen-“ The sight before him steals the remaining words of his question away, his mouth left open agape and eyeballs bulging out. You were splayed on out the bed with your stomach face down, the curvature of your naked back and perky ass on full display, your pink panties the only thing protecting you of any little modesty that’s left behind. Your head was smashed into the pillows, sound asleep. The nightdress you wore to sleep now laid on the wooden floor, not of any use. Did he forget to teach you how to switch on the air conditioner? The room felt incredibly warmer without the air conditioner switched on (and you on the bed, like this) and Namjoon could certainly feel himself growing hard purely at the sight of your naked back view.

God, how long had he been sex deprived?

Namjoon takes a step closer, unable to keep his eyes off you with lust spreading across his body and the need to just take you there and then. You move a little in your deep sleep and your ass jiggled before his hungry eyes. He bit his lip to control himself and tear his eyes off you. Taking deep breaths to calm his twitching dick, he spots his glasses on the study table and puts them on. Namjoon knows well that he shouldn’t do this to you and take advantage of what was right infront of his very eyes, but he couldn’t help but selfishly steal a clear glance at you one last time with his glasses on, before gently closing your door and leaving for work in a painful boner.

You were beginning to lose the weakness you felt in your bones and head, and was recovering speedily to be a healthy human who did not just wake up from an unknown coma again.

You had slept the whole day peacefully in soft fluffy white bed Namjoon provided you with and your energy level has risen. You can feel every inch of the white cotton blankets that wrapped you up, and a chill is felt on your skin as you pull the duvet away from your body. Your eyes widened.

You were only dressed in your underwear. Had you unconsciously undressed yourself in your sleep? You clearly remember wearing a night dress to sleep. What sort of paranormal activity is this? Quickly, you reach and pull the blankets to cover your bare body. Shit, what if Namjoon had walked in on you like that? The thought appeared in your head and you hoped that that wasn’t the case. It couldn’t have been Namjoon who rid you of your clothes. He left for work before you had even fallen asleep.

Wait, why were you even suspecting him?

Your ringtone blasted off. Your phone displayed a ‘Namjoon’ and the option to decline or answer. Speak of the devil.

In your panties, you panicked.

You obviously answered the phone and looked around the bedroom consciously, steadying your breath.

The sky was a hue of faded blue tinting your curtains, signalling the arrival of evening and Namjoon to get off work.

“Hey Y/N, do you want to go get ice cream? I’m ending work early today.”

Ice cream? Sounds sketchy but I’ll try.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Oh, uh yes, I’m here!” You scolded your dumb self silently.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” Namjoon repeats.

“Sure thing, I’m at home though.”

“It’s okay, I’m coming to pick you up at 5. Get ready.”

With that he hangs up and you stood there trying your best to figure out how the hell were you going to get ready.

You picked out a flowery off-shoulder short pink dress you discovered in your supposed home and dainty white heels.

Looking in the mirror, you fancied the you who put in effort in dressing. You looked stunning and you didn’t need anyone to tell you that for you to be aware of that fact.

You secretly hoped you did not get ready too hard.

Did that even make any sense?

At 5 o’clock sharp (you swear you weren’t counting down), you took the lift down. You walked out with an aura of confidence, for you had never dressed like this ever before. As far as you can remember.

You see Namjoon waiting for you, leaning against the car by the sidewalk waiting for your arrival.

Was there something wrong with him?

He had to always lean against something, as if without support he’d fall. A smile flashed on his face immediately when he saw you striding down the stairs, his tongue swiping his bottom lip uncontrollably. Namjoon was in a white dress shirt that hugged his toned body so well it looked like it was about to burst any time soon. And casual grey pants and black leather boots. The absence of his doctor coat you were so used to seeing on him.

You walked up to him, a little too close for comfort but he doesn’t move a muscle. Instead, Namjoon welcomes your intention with those menacing eyes of his, luring you further into him. Your bodies were less than an inch apart and finally you breathed, “Let’s go get ice cream.” He smiles accordingly and opens the car door, letting you in first.

Here you were sitting in an ice cream shop.

You watched Namjoon’s back as he ordered ice cream and it was a sight to behold. You wondered how it felt like to touch his muscular body.

“One red velvet for the man, and one cookies and cream for me.” He walks over to your table and places the two cups of ice cream down. You furrowed your brows.

“Oh and oxygen for the lady, is that right?” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, the gentleman is willing to share.” He pushed the red velvet to you.

“Shut up Namjoon. Red Velvet is rightfully mine to begin with.” You fired.

“Woah, someone’s feisty.” He has the first mouth of ice cream.

“Well, would you like to have a bite of my feistiness?” You raised a brow in suspense.

“For sure. You can show me when we get home.” He jokes half-heartedly and recalls the sight of you earlier that morning.

Maybe he didn’t really mean it as a joke.

You chuckled, with your mouth full of ice cream.

You both left the ice cream shop to take a stroll in the park, together, and honestly that was all that mattered. The sun was slowly vanishing and so were your fingers. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you took a few steps outside the shop. A pink glow of the evening sunset kissed Namjoon’s face entirely and you had honestly never seen anything more beautiful than this. He was different from Jimin, subtle but handsome in his very own manner. A girl was looking at the man before her with eyes filled with affection, filled with intricacy, filled with an unknown blank space of wanderlust. That girl was you, and before you had known,

“Why are you staring at me?” Namjoon questions.

This was when..

“Nothing much. Just the ice cream on your mouth.” You rub the corner of his mouth, even though there was really nothing.

It had been a few days ever since you resided with Namjoon, and everything was going well. Money, was really not a big problem for a well-paid doctor like Namjoon, so you helped with the housework and occasionally whipped up meals—all with the aid of the internet. You tip-toe to your maximum, trying to grab the box of Froot loops for your strange midnight cravings for cereal and milk. “Ugh almost there..” You were tonguing the side of your mouth as you put in all your concentration to getting that damn box off the cabinet shelve. “Why does he have to place a mere box of cereal so high up?” You huffed in annoyance as you fell back on your heels.

Suddenly, a body pressed against your back and a veiny arm is seen swiping off the box of cereal effortlessly. Gosh, you feel so pathetic.

“And why are you stealing my favorite stash of cereal?”

Oh, so it was his hidden stash. That’s why it was at an unreachable height except for someone above 180cm.

You turn around and Namjoon’s hair looks softer than usual, he smelled like he had just taken a fresh shower. The grey sweater he was wearing became one of your biggest weakness.

“Uh, right. It is yours.” You mutter under your breath out of embarrassment. Your inner pig had just been caught red-handedly and you try averting his gaze at all costs. The layer of thick tension ballooned up the entire kitchen and you wanted to leave before shit happens.

“Why are you in a hurry to leave?” Namjoon doesn’t physically stop you but you’re halted in your tracks. He places the Froot loops down on the countertop.

“Shall we discuss about the price of staying in my house?” He calls out to your escaping form.

“I can stock up on Froot loops once I return to my job.” You blurt out what seemed like a fantastic idea. But it didn’t seem like that to Namjoon. Because he brushes that offer away like it was peanuts, with an amused laughter.

“What do you see me as, some Froot loop monster?” Namjoon continues chuckling at your ridiculous way of paying rent.

“Um, not really. But maybe in bed?” You joke, but nobody’s laughing. Namjoon’s laughter dies down instantly and you’re not even smiling. Was anyone in this kitchen even taking what you said as a joke? The silence confirmed a stern rejection.

“Wow Y/N, are you trying to insinuate something?”

“Nope. I meant it as a joke but you’re not laughing so I guess I shall leave this awkward moment.” Namjoon is still a little taken aback by your words, especially since his encounter with your bare form that morning. So you dash for your bedroom, before jerking to the stop, turning back and grabbing the bowl and spoon you prepared, the carton of milk you took out from the fridge—and most importantly the card box of cereal before sprinting back to your room while Namjoon was still in state of disbelief.

He snickered at your strong prioritisation over cereal.

Namjoon did not care much about your alienation or your missing kins. You have a job and a steady income, it was no problem for you to live by yourself actually—but you chose to have company. Humans aren’t meant to be alone. Your job was a reporter apparently. You would return to work .

“You have no family?” The question pops from your mouth when the meatball in Namjoon’s hand is in the middle of its journey to his mouth. He closes his mouth and allow the fork to hang loosely on his hand.

Uh oh, you probably shouldn’t have raised the topic.

“Ah, I lost six of my brothers due to an.. accident.”

You nod in empathy. The figure took you by surprise but you manage to hide it well.

“But they’re alive, I hope. Just that I don’t know where they are.” His voice becomes low and you could tell that he was hurt.

“Why don’t you just ring them up?” You were confused. He could just do that and cure his longing.

“We got split up at a young age you see,” He leans forward to clarify.

“Back then, the thing we used to call each other with was a pager, or a telephone booth, or maybe even our parent’s mobile...After we got separated, it was hard to reach out.”

“Your parents?” You decided to pursue.

“They died.” He says nonchalantly, as if they were nobody.

His parents, he had no clue where they went. He just needed to find his other six brothers whom he truly love and care for. It was until later that you found out they were not biological, just super close. Often, Namjoon wonders how they are doing. He wonders how they have grew up to be like. He wonders if they still remember him. Aware of the sadness starting to brew in the pit of his stomach after allowing such thoughts to linger in his mind, Namjoon chides himself silently as a reminder to not think.

To not long for.

To not reminisce.

And hopefully, to forget.

All these years, with a fear instilled in him, it filled him up with hesitation to search for them. Namjoon was beyond worried. What if they wouldn’t get along? What if they couldn’t remember him? What’s worse, what if they resented him for being the one kept with Mom and Dad? During lonely nights, he can only wonder how they would look like in present day, how tall Jungkook would have grown, where they were and if they were happy. He could only reminisce the good old days where seven laughters filled his house and life.

“Wait up!” Namjoon yells as his brothers run to the playground just across the street. “Hurry up!” Taehyung looks back to the slowest brother and reaches out his helping hand. Namjoon smiles and catches up with the rest along with Taehyung.

“Hey, stop hogging the swing!” Jimin whines to Jungkook.

“What? I’m not-“

Before he retorts back, Hoseok grabs him by the waist from behind and pulls him away from the creaky swing.

“Get on Jimin!” Hoseok laughs with his heart smile and holds the struggling young one back. Jimin leaps onto the swing happily.

“Oh, Jin Hyung!” Jungkook points towards the guy holding a video camera. He lowers it and exposes his face, a knowing smile forming as the boys acknowledge his presence. Seokjin jumps onto the ground from the platform and joins the group for a hug. Jimin hops off his swing and the seven boys hug in reunion. Then they scatter everywhere. Taehyung lies peacefully on an abandoned mattress in their field, holding the polaroid of their grandmother and himself close to his heart.

Namjoon walks up to him, his figure blocking the sunlight form Taehyung’s face. “Why are you lying down? Get up, let’s have fun. I’ve got spray cans.” Taehyung gets up reluctantly as he now holds onto Namjoon’s hand for assistance.

Taehyung starts tracing along Namjoon’s outline as he sits against a big dirty wall. “What are you drawing?” He asks busy Taehyung, rattling the rusty metal can and spraying red paint around him.

“The devil.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen and he gets up abruptly, as Taehyung works on the horns. They both chuckle as Namjoon snatches the can bottle from his hand, ready to leave another masterpiece on the scribbled wall.

Hoseok leaves and sits by a curb, closing his eyes to rest. Yoongi notices and sits quietly beside him.

“You alright?” He mutters lowly.

“Yeah.” Hoseok waves him off. But Yoongi stays there with him, in comforting silence. Yoongi knew, but he chooses to keep quiet, sparing his pal of any discomfort. He gestures for Seokjin to come over and snap a picture of him and Hoseok.

Hoseok’s eyes were shut and his mouth slightly open, deep in his snooze while Yoongi makes funny faces and derpy gummy smiles by his side.

Click. The picture comes out of Seokjin’s pink polaroid and Yoongi keeps it securely in the pocket of his denim thanking Seokjin.

“Ah ouch!” Yoongi suddenly clashes into Hoseok, awakening him. Both heads fling to the cause of the push, eyes only leading to playful Jungkook who had jumped to Yoongi’s side a little too enthusiastically. “You woke Hoseok up!” Yoongi chided. Hoseok half-opened eyes scan Jungkook and smiles briefly, not blaming the younger one at all.

“Look at the camera and smile!” Jungkook tells his two brothers.

Seokjin looks through the camera hole and smiles as he takes the shot.

“Why are you guys taking pictures without me?!” Jimin comes whining from behind and crashes violently by Jungkook’s side, who clashes into Yoongi, who crushes poor Hoseok again.

Snap.

“Smile!”

Snap.

The video camera is fished out again and Jin turns to film Namjoon and Taehyung busy finishing their acts of vandalism.

“You all do know that it is illegal to do this?” Seokjin interrupts their session and films them. His voice startled the duo and they turn their heads to the eldest, mouth agape and shocked.

“Haha, I now have evidence to threaten you guys!” He delightfully sways the camera side to side, not missing any angle of their acts. Namjoon and Taehyungs’ eyes grew as big as saucers and both immediately snatched the camera from Jin’s hands.

“Now, now, this is also an act of blackmailing. We’ve got it as proof as well!” Seokjin raise his both hands up feigning innocence. “We’re even.” He bursts into laughter and Namjoon’s recording shakes a little from his laughing fit. Taehyung prompts, “Hyung, who is your favourite brother? Don’t lie! We have it on tape.”

Seokjin pretends to think hard and says without blinking an eye.

“Of course it’s-“ “Jiminie!” Jimin pops out from behind out of nowhere and hugs Seokjin from the back, wanting all the love and attention of the eldest to be on him. “It has to be me.” He looks at Seokjin with hopeful eyes but only to receive a stern unfazed face. Seokjin shoves Jimin away and answers by pointing to himself, “It’s me.”

“What in the world, Hyung!” Taehyung scoffs with a tinge of second-hand embarrassment of his unshattering confidence.. “Fine, I’ll just go to sleep.” He pouts and returns to the mattress. Jimin runs after Taehyung, joining him to nap for a bit. Namjoon shuts the video camera down and walk to their belongings.

“Right! I brought along a tripod stand, we can take a group shot!” Namjoon unzips his bag.

Yoongi taps Hoseok to wake up and Jungkook pulls Jimin and Taehyung from their lying forms. Namjoon sets up the camera timer and runs to join the other six boys. “Yah!” Seokjin yells as Jimin jumps on his back and Namjoon drapes his arm over Taehyung’s neck, Jungkook lies down casually at the front.

Yoongi and Hoseok just with their same old boring peace signs.

“Smile for the camera!” Jungkook lifts his feet up and his brothers’ faces squish in disgust as his feet comes close to their faces.

Snap.

“Hello? Earth to Namjoon?” You continuously snap your fingers in front of his spaced out face. Namjoon did not even blink when you clicked your fingers right in front of his face. “Uh, yes?” He finally blinks and looks at your puzzled features.

A tear.

The droplet fall out from his eyes; you couldn’t read his expression, but he was giving you the same intuition you had with Jimin—a sense of longing. He must have remembered something that made his heart ache in pain. Down his eyebag, before it reaches his cheeks, you wipe it off.

“You’re crying.” You lock your eyes with him, studying his face carefully for signs of emotions. Be it anger or sadness, you wanted to know the reason behind his sorrow. You read his eyes even deeper with intensity.

Then you saw it.

“You..miss them.” You hesitantly mumble, afraid you were intruding more than you should. His brows furrow in response, trying to gather all his emotions.

Namjoon never blinks again, his eyes wide and wet with sadness, and he never breaks eye contact with you as you read his thoughts. His eyes study your face back and you felt like all your thoughts have been exposed, only able to give a blank stare to his hurt form. Nobody would have noticed how his plump lips trembled slightly unless they looked closely, like he just went through a whole series of traumatising events—or maybe he just did.

Because in the very next moment, he closes the small gap between the both of you, all of his suppressed emotions comes pouring out, onto your lips. The first kiss was gentle, coated with saccharine as you slowly flutter your lids shut at the intimate contact. Once you did not pull away, only looking at him. with curiously interested eyes, his hands enter your locks of hair and he grabs the back of your neck to meld his plump lips onto yours harder. Teeth tugging onto your bottom lip, he pulls away in an awfully slow pace, savouring the very last fragments of this glowing, heart-racing moment. The taste of him lingers on your breath, and a sheen of pink coats your cheeks.

“S-sorry.” Namjoon looks down after he pulls away, scratching his nape awkwardly and tries to leave the couch. The way he immediately turned so shy after a bold move was amusing to your eyes and you catch hold of his hand to restrict him from leaving.

“You don’t have to be.” You reassured his flabbergasted form.

You pull him back down on the couch.

“Look at me Namjoon.” You bring your hand up and caressed his tear-streaked face, rubbing your thumb under his eyes to wipe clean the salty stains. He looks at you with endearing eyes, his face subconsciously leans into the warmth of your palm, clinging onto the only genuine pillar of support given to him after what seemed like an eternity. The tears now flow down his face like a running tap, with the boost of comfort.

The last time he sought solace, was in the very arms of his six brothers, the very last time they held a group hug, before each one of them were sent-

His wandering thoughts to the past was disrupted when you pulled him in for a hug, pressing his head to your chest, softly playing with his hair as he cries even harder under the comfort of your arms.

“Don’t cry..it hurts me to see you cry.” You embrace him tighter, running your hand up and down his back.

Namjoon wraps his long arms around your waist, muffled sobs attacking your shoulders.

He falls asleep on your shoulder while you try to gently lower him onto the couch, an impossible task for you to bring him to his bedroom. Once Namjoon is lying comfortably on the pillow, you pull the blanket up to his collarbone and was going to leave him be.

“Don’t go!” He screams in his sleep that you thought he was awake, but his eyes are shut tight with his brows knitted, perspiration dotting his temples and he’s fisting the material of the furniture—Namjoon is having a nightmare.

You sit right back down to hold his hand, and he grabs it almost instantly for reassurance.

His brothers. You have to find some way or the other to find them. For him. Your only friend.

You head towards the computer on your study table, and began your search on the internet.

It’s been about two months since you’ve moved in with Namjoon. And as each day passes, you got to know and understand him better and better.

Though, the kiss was never brought up again. You don’t know why, but you wanted to talk about it. At the same time, you did not want to put your clarification over his feelings, you knew it would only trigger the lost memories of his youth.

You stopped questioning why he kept stubbing his pinky toe into the corners of everything, why he was able to break your toothbrush into two halves, why he would dance out of nowhere in front of you when his favourite song plays, why he has this obsessive collection of brown bear plushies and KAWS figurines, and most importantly why he seems to just love crabs more than his mom—because it’s Namjoon. Love would be a very strong understatement. You had got to know about the crab addiction when he brought you to the beach—initially, and very apparently, to feel the salt in the air and sand in your hair—but little did he mention about the crabs in your hand as well. Namjoon bounced in enthusiasm when he spots a crab between the rocks while you squint twice as hard to find out where the hell it is without crushing it with the sole of your feet. You chose to sit on the sand and let the waves reach your feet every often or so, enjoying the sea breeze that made your hair dance. You could sense the impressive amount of excitement radiating from Namjoon, even though he was kind of fifty yards away from you.

He had found another crab.

When he has gathered close to ten baby crabs, crawling around aimlessly in the curve of his palms, Namjoon speedily makes his way towards you. “Look, Y/N!” Namjoon looked so happy, it feels like nothing would be able to wipe that stupid grin off his face. Not that you wanted that to happen anyway. His positive energy infects you immediately, and you indirectly thank the little crabs (one of which have fallen onto the sand).

“Wow, cute.” You mustered the best amused expression at the loot of his crab-hunt—figuring you weren’t that big of a fan of microscopic red crawlies.

“What do you mean cute? These creatures may be small but they’re extremely intelligent and extraordinary, individually-“ From that single burst of defence of his little eight-legged crustacean, you concluded Namjoon could go on and on for hours about something he loves. Maybe somewhere in another world, he was a storyteller, an entrepreneur or even—a rap god.

“Ouch it bit me.” You shake the tiny claws off the back of your hand and soothed the area it bit, or pinched, whatever it is.

Namjoon’s eyes grew wide in horror as he watches the crab fly away from your hand to somewhere in the sand but he also reaches to grab hold of your hand to inspect your wound.

“Are you alright?”

“Quite alright..but it stings?”

“Hmm. That’s strange. Baby crabs usually bring no harm. Do you need antiseptic? I can bring you to the hospital now.” He’s flustered.

“I don’t know, maybe I was just kidding.” You laughed at his gullibility and anticipated his reaction.

However, Namjoon doesn’t say anything. He looks up at you upon the revelation and carelessly drops your hand, gets up and walks away. You can’t help but laugh even louder at his unamused reaction, mouth growing wider blasting giggles as he takes as many steps as he can away from you.

“Hey! Kim Namjoon!” You call out and chase after him.

“I am this close to leaving you here to rot!” He shouts back and you murmur countless apologies for pranking him, knowing you needed a ride back.

The two of you grew inseparably close.

So here you were on his free day, watching a movie with Namjoon. You scooted closer to his relaxed form on the couch, craving some sort of body heat in this bloody cold weather.

His arm was stretched out on the sofa top and you took the chance to snuggle under and lie on his chest. He got startled but he did not chase you away, granting you permission to his wide frame.

The both of you developed a kind of comfort with each other, and physical contact (at the appropriate places) became a norm for you and Namjoon. These included the shoulder massages you gave him after a long day at work or the grabbing of his hand when you eagerly want to show him something you found interesting. Or when he smacks your thigh repeatedly in excitement as something climatic or saddening happens in the movie he was watching with you. Or probably when he grabs onto your shoulders and throw you roughly to the side to steal your use of the shared bathroom. And he would pee with your relentless banging and yelling on the bathroom door.

You could feel his chest heaving up and down nervously.

“What’s wrong?” His hand rubs your shoulder up and down. Namjoon wonders why this time you cuddled up so closely with him, as if you needed comfort from a post-break-up or something. Right, what is a break up when you don’t even know the difference between condensed and fresh milk.

“It’s all the same! They’re all milk!” He can practically hear you upon the memory of it.

“Nothing. It’s you. What’s wrong with you?” The question of concern comes out softly, nowhere near harsh. Why was Namjoon acting all nervous? His eyes widened and he points to himself mouthing a ‘me?’ in genuine shock.

“Yeah, you. Why are you so nervous?” You thought out loud.

He glues his eyes to the television and gulps.

“Is it about the kiss?” You finally asked openly. You had to talk about it, and now just felt like the right time to do so.

Namjoon remembers the kiss. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy it or anything—in fact he felt the complete opposite of that. He loved it. He loved your lips, how they fit so perfectly against his and they felt so soft and pure. He didn’t want to mention about the kiss after it happened because he was afraid you would push it away like it was an accident. When he clearly felt otherwise. Kissing you brought the life back in him again—and he would die to kiss you again and again, forever.

“Look,” He furrows his brows and shuts his eyes turning to face you. “I really want to…” He says through gritted teeth. You lean in closer, supple breasts under the thin pyjamas pressing against the side of his body.

“Want to…?” You made sure he stays on track without rambling about nonsense again.

Namjoon closes his eyes and huffs again, in concentration to say something coherent but the lustful thoughts of you uncontrollably filled his mind— especially the times you walked around the house without your bra on, thinking he won’t notice the way your hardened buds perked through the flimsy shirt, or the way your ass shaped was viewed so clearly under the silk of your shorts, and that one morning, oh god that morning, he berated himself of keeping that sight of you etched in his mind longer than he should have. Namjoon couldn’t wait to strip you of your innocence even though he knows that’s the last thing he should ever do.

Namjoon just couldn’t get enough of you.

He realises that he wants you all to himself, in more than a friends way.

All of a sudden, he pushes you off him and you fall back onto the empty space of the couch. Namjoon hovers over you and traps you between his arms.

“You really enjoy teasing me, don’t you?” You are at a loss for words and he lifts your shirt slightly up your torso, massaging your bare waist. You suck in a deep breath as he dips his head and whispers into your ear, “Answer me, baby girl.” His voice is dripping with an incredible amount of lust and he nudges your neck with his nose, sniffing your scent like a predator. You can hear your heartbeat ricocheting in your eardrums as you shiver at his hot breath against your neck his hand travelling up and down your side. You fail to form words and he nips harshly at the skin of your jaw with his teeth causing you to wince. “I’m guessing you enjoy being punished, don’t you?” When he looks at you with his eyes filled with darkness, your legs start spreading wider voluntarily, urging his crotch close to yours, resulting in a smirk forming on his face.

“Y-Yes..” You hold onto his shoulders. “Please, Namjoon…”

The way you were practically begging has him going nuts.

His hand starts to wander in a bigger range, from the bottom curve of your breasts to the start of your thigh, your loose shorts getting pulled down slowly.

“What do you want baby?” He sounds raspy, almost like he’s growling like a beast.

“I want to feel all of you.” You shyly tell him, closing your eyes as heat rushes slowly to your face. You had no idea what you meant, but god you really wanted all of him—and he would soon give it all to you.

You relax at his occasional squeezing of your thigh and sides, mouth slightly ajar and Namjoon can’t help but take in the sight of you legs-spread, hot and bothered under him.

“Fuck, you’re perfect baby.” He finally presses his lips onto your fallen ones.

He groans in satisfaction of the kiss, you tasted exactly like how he remembered, moving against your lips slowly, tasting every bit of you. When his tongue enters your mouth and swirls around your own, you let out a muffled moan. A pool of heat gradually forms in the tight constraints of the cotton material as he tugs at your bottom lip and pulls away. A few moans slipped out of your mouths as his hard rock length grinds against your soaked core in a torturous pace, Namjoon was taking his time with you. He returns his lips onto the corner of your mouth, peppering kisses from your cheeks to your jaw and to the side of your neck. He presses wet open-mouth kisses and latches his thick lips onto your shoulder, sucking and licking hard. He marks you with endless kisses, making sure you were more than okay to do this with him.

You feel the hand leave your side and make its way to your heated core. His fingers spare no mercy, rubbing rough circles on your clit and cupping your wetness through the thin material of your shorts. “Damn babe, you’re so fucking wet.” He quickly discards your shorts and panties, running his fingers up and down your glistening slits, making disturbingly wet squelching noises. Your clit was swollen by his ministrations and he presses onto it unforgivingly once again, making you whimper shamelessly.

“It’s all for you..”

He hums in approval at your words before plunging one of his fingers into you, curling it up hitting your sweet spot aggressively forcing an even louder moan to spill out of your lips. You grab onto his shoulders tightly as he inserts a second finger, and starts to finger fuck the living soul out of you. “A-Ah…Namjoon, urgh!” He thrusts his fingers exceptionally hard this time and you scream. He pulls them out when he decides it’s enough for you and puts both of them into his mouth, sucking your arousal clean off his fingers. For the love of god, you had never seen anything hotter than that.

“Namjoon, fuck me already,” You say in broken breaths, chest heaving. “I need you, right now.” You look at him through heavy lids, your mind clouding with nothing but sexual desire. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to clash your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss for split second, ridding his shirt and pulling down his pants, and you stare at his sculpted chest and abdomen in amazement. You can’t help but notice the growing hard bulge underneath the confines of his straining tight pair of boxers. His hand grabs one of your breasts and he massages it roughly, playing with your hardened bud that he could only ogle at from afar before. He tucks a stray hair from your face to behind your ear and Namjoon starts grinding against your bare pussy with his clothed member.

He already feels so thick and big rubbing against you just like that, you can’t imagine how great he would feel inside you. You flutter your eyes close, shy of how your juices were staining his boxers so erotically, moaning every time the tip of his dick rubs against your swollen clit.

“Would love to eat you out right now,” He finally releases his cock in its entire glory. “but I have to be inside you right now.”

As fast as the sentence coming out of his mouth ended, he entered you in one full hard thrust. Namjoon had slipped right in so easily due to your wetness and the both of you moaned at the feeling. Being filled to the brim sent your head feeling light and giddy, a smile appearing on your face of how good it felt.

Your walls clench tightly around his length, and he grunts, “You’re so fucking tight, stop clenching..” His eyebrows are knitted and he pursed his lips in concentration of working his way deeper into you. You yell out a moan as he removes himself almost entirely, before thrusting particularly harder into you this time, and repeating the process in a constant rapid pace. “Argh! N-Nam-”

He reattached his lips with yours to shut you up, “Use your words baby,”He growls into your neck and give the skin kitten licks. “You f-feel so big.. a-and good—urgh!” Just as you thought it can’t possibly feel any better, with his cock buried deep in you and hitting all of your walls as he grinds it, his hand travels to rub furiously at your bundle of nerves—you were going to crumble.

Your walls clench around him like a vice grip when you feel the pleasure build up in your gut—Namjoon puts one of your leg around his waist and roughly grips onto your hip, and began drilling his cock into your pussy at a monstrous speed, his rhythm becoming unmatched and you finally let loose, coming all over his cock. “Ahh, uh f-fuck!” Eyes screwed tight, not holding back in voicing out how good he had just made you cum. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, with Namjoon chasing his own high after.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” He growls and you mewl at his baritone.

“I want to feel all of it,” You softly mention in his ear and he lets out the most satisfying moan.

It takes him a couple more strokes and eventually he’s climaxing at how warm and tight you feel around him, filling you up with his seed.

He slowly rides out your high and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He lays exhausted on top of you, but at the same time not crushing you with his weight. The heavy breaths of his at your neck feel like bliss, Namjoon fitting perfectly inside you, chests pressed against each other—you didn’t want this moment to end as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“That was..that was...”

How were you supposed to describe mind-blowing sex?

He lifts his head and plants a kiss at the side of your burning cheek, “You’re amazing.” Before pulling his softening member out and you wince at the loss of contact.

Namjoon seems like he made no plans to go wash up after such a sticky and sweaty session by the way his eyes are slowly closing and his breathing becoming consistent. He was laying by your side, pulling you close to him to fall asleep together.

But you had other plans.

“Hey, you do know that I literally feel so gross now right?” You try to escape his hug to make your way to the shower. You were positive that there was remnants of his cum, mixed with yours stained on your inner thighs and beads of sweat coating both your bodies. “Come on, let’s go take a shower. We have to take a shower!” He doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, brows furrowing as he whines at how loud you were being.

You force yourself out of his arms and head to the bathroom with your sore legs not failing you.

“Mind if I join..” Namjoon makes his way inside sleazily, tired from the intercourse and you run the warm water on him, helping him get cleaned up. Afterwards, you snuggled up with him in his bedroom, drifting off to sleep easily, feeling like a lovestruck princess in some twisted fairytale.

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